The Crisis. Группа авторов

The Crisis - Группа авторов


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of their bred;

      And fix by force, some curst oppressive laws,

      Made through Scots villainy, (without a cause;)

      In base compliance with that Tyrant’s will,

      Her freedom to destroy, or blood to spill;

      And step, by step, most infamous design,

      Thus the whole constitution undermine;

      First take from Boston, all the rights we gave,

      Make each American, a Scotsman’s slave;

      And next in chains the English shall be bound,

      By that same King, in whom no truth they found;

      Should I then live, I’d rather league with Hell,

      Or rise in arms, and ’gainst that King rebel

      Than be his slave, by all thats just and good,

      I’d rather see my children roll in blood.

      Such deeds as these, would fire my soul with rage,

      And make me e’en against my safety, wage

      War with vill’ny, and stamp that Tyrant’s crimes,

      That he might live, and stink to after-times;

      Would make me call forth antient British rage,

      To just revenge, or mark the coward age.

      Thrice happy NOW, when ev’ry blessing springs,

      From GEORGE the THIRD, we boast the BEST of KINGS.

      [print edition page 109]

      Should such a King succeed to England’s throne,

      (The nation must, with dire oppression groan,)

      Should he in meanness bred, laugh at all law,

      The Senate keep by bribes, and fraud in awe;

      That parliament to royal mandates true,

      With freedom, shall subvert religion too;

      The Lords and Bishops, shall that Senate join,

      And with the State, the church shall undermine;

      The Protestant faith, which for ages stood,

      On truth’s firm base, bought with a sea of blood;

      Shall be destroy’d, and at that Tyrants call,

      The Laws of God, shall into ruins fall;

      The English then, to Catholics must bow,

      And worship Idols, as they do God now;

      Or else submit to persecution’s rod,

      Be burnt alive, (for owning of their God)

      With shirt well pitch’d, to give a shocking light,

      And Smithfield once more blaze, at dead of night;

      Then as before, with Hell they may conspire,

      To set our churches, and the town on fire:

      (That pious King, at pious Priest’s command,

      May make crusado’s to the Holy-land,

      Thro’ dangerous seas, to find the blessed spring

      Of holy water, to which the Pope shall bring

      Him safe, purge, and absolve him from his crimes,

      As Pope’s absolv’d our King’s in former times,

      And made them devil’s on the British throne,

      They reign’d in blood, and Hell was all their own.)

      And Bishop’s then e’en Satan shall out vye,

      To please that KING will give their GOD the lie,

      (But still they’ll have a sure and certain hope,

      And find at last a SAVIOUR in the Pope)

      And no distinction could a SCOTSMAN bring,

      ’Twixt, DEVIL BISHOP’S, POPE, and such a KING;

      So far alike, (none should this disbelieve)

      [print edition page 110]

      Their aim the same to ruin and deceive,

      By oaths nor conscience neither would be bound,

      Could worse on Earth, or worse in Hell be found.

      Such deeds as these, would fire my soul with RAGE,

      And make me e’en against my safety, wage

      War with vill’ny, and stamp their cursed crimes,

      That each might live and stink to after-times:

      Would make me call forth ancient British rage

      To Just revenge, or mark to coward age.

      Thrice happy NOW, when every blessing springs

      From GEORGE the THIRD; we BOAST the best of KINGS.

      Through that dark gloom one comfort shall appear,

      (And all the world own I’m a PROPHET here)

      Altho’ like crimes of old in SODOM’S land,

      Those might draw vengeance from GOD’s righteous hand,

      Yet for time, the AUTHORS shall not bleed,

      Thro’ one Just man, who then shall greatly plead;

      One BISHOP shall be found, and only ONE,

      Then true to Man, to God, and Christ his Son,

      There shall be one, ASAPH4 that one shall sing,

      Just to his God, his Country and his King.

      Should that dread time to England e’er be known,

      When such a Monarch sits upon the throne,

      Her senate brib’d, and only kept for sport,

      To aid the BLOODY measures of a court,

      Should that e’er be, a few brave virtuous men,

      [print edition page 111]

      (A Chatham, Burke, a Glinn,5 may be agen)

      May try, with truth and justice on their side,

      To stem the torrent of corruption’s tide;

      Like virtuous Romans they may firmly stand,

      With some few more, to save a falling land;

      May bravely struggle in their country’s cause,

      And nobly try to save her charter’d laws;

      But try in vain, truth shall not find support,

      From rascals brib’d, and by a rotten court:

      Should honour rise, by justice call’d to tell,

      How England bled, and how the Romans fell;

      Should virtue honour join, at Heaven’s call,

      To shew that Britons must like Romans fall:

      Should they, base villainy drag forth to light,

      St. Stephen’s troops, shall then prepare to fight;

      And legions arm, against truth and virtue’s laws,

      Will there defend the blackest villain’s cause;

      And honour, justice, truth and virtue meet

      This fate, shall victims fall at powers feet.

      Dread EVILS these, yet they will surely spring,

      From


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