Poems (Frances Elizabeth Browne)/On the times in England
ON THE TIMES IN ENGLAND.
In such an age as this, such times as these,
Marked by indulgence, luxury, and ease,
Can truths, unvarnished truths, the power impart
To touch the conscience, or to mend the heart?
Ah, Cowper! but too plain didst thou foretell,
And paint the coming evils but too well.
Ah! vainly didst thou warn!—in vain deplore
The ills which threatened England's favored shore.
How, then, shall humble poets hope to wake
An interest in themes all now forsake?
Yet subjects which involve our nation's fame
May surely from her sons attention claim.
In nations, as in individuals, wealth
Seldom conduces to repose or health;
As wealth and luxury are near allied,
And luxury produces vice and pride.
No happiness is found where virtue fails,
Where folly and where arrogance prevails.
Imperial Rome, the world's proud mistress, found
The empire totter, fall, bowed to the ground,
When wealth and luxury her senate filled;
The state corrupted made her warriors yield;
Enervate they, whose former well-earned fame
So powerful, nations trembled at their name;
They sunk in luxury's devouring flood,
By rude barbarians saw their land subdued.
Athens and Sparta both, in evil hour,
Experienced luxury's destructive power.
O, guard Britannia from the baleful draught,
Which never without ruin can be quaffed!
Britons! descendants of a glorious race
Of heroes, patriots, statesmen! O, erase
Not from your souls the memory of your sires,
But emulate the deeds their fame inspires!
Let not what should be blessings prove your bane;
O, still the virtues of your sires retain!
Let not, o'ercome by indolence and ease,
Slothful indulgence be the fruits of peace;
Let not prosperity produce excess,
But calm content, and grateful happiness.
But, ah! refinement's enervating hand
Is threatening swift destruction through the land,
And luxury, with an avalanche's force,
Gains strength as it advances on its course.
Refinement!—ah! how falsely so defined!
Real refinement is of heart and mind,
Truly consists in purity of soul,
And Christian courteousness to crown the whole.
Pride and ambition reign alike in all,
No rank exclusively in great and small;
Each aims at those above himself, and then
Inferiors copy him in turn again.
All feel the general impulse, and look down
With scorn on those in stations once their own;
The sons of tradesmen hate the name of trade,
In which their vulgar fortunes have been made.
Dress, show, and equipage alone excite
The emulation which, directed right,
Would make men truly great, and wise, and good,
Though so perverted and misunderstood.
Yet now fair Science rears aloft her head,—
Genius, invention, knowledge, wide are spread,
And education's blessings showered around
On all, in every situation found.
Does knowledge cause the evil we deplore?
Would barbarous ignorance befriend us more?
No! knowledge is a blessing all should prize,
And wilful ignorance as much despise;
But ever should be such of sterling use,—
No blessing liable to more abuse,—
Such knowledge as will time and death defy,
And flourish most in worlds beyond the sky.
As when a voyager to a distant shore
Has o'er the seas a pathway to explore,
Should ever keep his destined port in mind,
Though beautiful the coast he leaves behind,
Nor, idly lingering, trifle time away
With what should only soothe him on his way,
So man, proceeding on his heaven-bound course,
Should for that voyage collect his utmost force;
To that his studies, recreations, tend,
That all, that only all-important end!
But, present pleasure, present ease, in view,
The distant future fades as instant too.
Light, unimportant studies fill the mind,
Nor prompt a thought but what 's to earth confined.
John Bull,—once reckoned solemn, grave, sedate,—
With conquests and prosperity elate,
Has now become so polished and refined
He 's left at last his neighbour France behind.
Rouse! rouse, Britannia! from thy dangerous sleep;
Awake! arise! and vigilantly keep
Guard o'er thy country, which will else become,
'T is to be feared, in fate, a second Rome.
Awake, ye Britons! dash the cup aside
Of folly, vice, voluptuousness, and pride!
Beware! nor rashly tempt the certain fate
Of a luxurious and corrupted state!
Marked by indulgence, luxury, and ease,
Can truths, unvarnished truths, the power impart
To touch the conscience, or to mend the heart?
Ah, Cowper! but too plain didst thou foretell,
And paint the coming evils but too well.
Ah! vainly didst thou warn!—in vain deplore
The ills which threatened England's favored shore.
How, then, shall humble poets hope to wake
An interest in themes all now forsake?
Yet subjects which involve our nation's fame
May surely from her sons attention claim.
In nations, as in individuals, wealth
Seldom conduces to repose or health;
As wealth and luxury are near allied,
And luxury produces vice and pride.
No happiness is found where virtue fails,
Where folly and where arrogance prevails.
Imperial Rome, the world's proud mistress, found
The empire totter, fall, bowed to the ground,
When wealth and luxury her senate filled;
The state corrupted made her warriors yield;
Enervate they, whose former well-earned fame
So powerful, nations trembled at their name;
They sunk in luxury's devouring flood,
By rude barbarians saw their land subdued.
Athens and Sparta both, in evil hour,
Experienced luxury's destructive power.
O, guard Britannia from the baleful draught,
Which never without ruin can be quaffed!
Britons! descendants of a glorious race
Of heroes, patriots, statesmen! O, erase
Not from your souls the memory of your sires,
But emulate the deeds their fame inspires!
Let not what should be blessings prove your bane;
O, still the virtues of your sires retain!
Let not, o'ercome by indolence and ease,
Slothful indulgence be the fruits of peace;
Let not prosperity produce excess,
But calm content, and grateful happiness.
But, ah! refinement's enervating hand
Is threatening swift destruction through the land,
And luxury, with an avalanche's force,
Gains strength as it advances on its course.
Refinement!—ah! how falsely so defined!
Real refinement is of heart and mind,
Truly consists in purity of soul,
And Christian courteousness to crown the whole.
Pride and ambition reign alike in all,
No rank exclusively in great and small;
Each aims at those above himself, and then
Inferiors copy him in turn again.
All feel the general impulse, and look down
With scorn on those in stations once their own;
The sons of tradesmen hate the name of trade,
In which their vulgar fortunes have been made.
Dress, show, and equipage alone excite
The emulation which, directed right,
Would make men truly great, and wise, and good,
Though so perverted and misunderstood.
Yet now fair Science rears aloft her head,—
Genius, invention, knowledge, wide are spread,
And education's blessings showered around
On all, in every situation found.
Does knowledge cause the evil we deplore?
Would barbarous ignorance befriend us more?
No! knowledge is a blessing all should prize,
And wilful ignorance as much despise;
But ever should be such of sterling use,—
No blessing liable to more abuse,—
Such knowledge as will time and death defy,
And flourish most in worlds beyond the sky.
As when a voyager to a distant shore
Has o'er the seas a pathway to explore,
Should ever keep his destined port in mind,
Though beautiful the coast he leaves behind,
Nor, idly lingering, trifle time away
With what should only soothe him on his way,
So man, proceeding on his heaven-bound course,
Should for that voyage collect his utmost force;
To that his studies, recreations, tend,
That all, that only all-important end!
But, present pleasure, present ease, in view,
The distant future fades as instant too.
Light, unimportant studies fill the mind,
Nor prompt a thought but what 's to earth confined.
John Bull,—once reckoned solemn, grave, sedate,—
With conquests and prosperity elate,
Has now become so polished and refined
He 's left at last his neighbour France behind.
Rouse! rouse, Britannia! from thy dangerous sleep;
Awake! arise! and vigilantly keep
Guard o'er thy country, which will else become,
'T is to be feared, in fate, a second Rome.
Awake, ye Britons! dash the cup aside
Of folly, vice, voluptuousness, and pride!
Beware! nor rashly tempt the certain fate
Of a luxurious and corrupted state!