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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454949" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode VII: To The Right Reverend Benjamin Lord Bishop Of Winchester</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. 1.<br>For toils which patriots have endur'd,<br>For treason quell'd and laws secur'd,<br>In every nation Time displays<br>The palm of honourable praise.<br>Envy may rail; and faction fierce<br>May strive: but what, alas, can those<br>(Though bold, yet blind and sordid foes)<br>To gratitude and love oppose,<br>To faithful story and persuasive verse?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. 2.<br>O nurse of freedom, Albion, say,<br>Thou tamer of despotic sway,<br>What man, among thy sons around,<br>Thus heir to glory hast thou found?<br>What page, in all thy annals bright,<br>Hast thou with purer joy survey'd<br>Than that where truth, by Hoadly's aid,<br>Shines through imposture's solemn shade,<br>Through kingly and through sacerdotal night?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. 3. <br>To him the Teacher bless'd,<br>Who sent religion, from the palmy field<br>By Jordan, like the morn to cheer the west,<br>And lifted up the veil which heaven from earth conceal'd,<br>To Hoadly thus his mandate he address'd:<br>'Go thou, and rescue my dishonor'd law<br>From hands rapacious and from tongues impure:<br>Let not my peaceful name be made a lure<br>Fell persecution's mortal snares to aid:<br>Let not my words be impious chains to draw<br>The freeborn soul in more than brutal awe,<br>To faith without assent, allegiance unrepaid.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II. 1.<br>No cold or unperforming hand<br>Was arm'd by heaven with this command.<br>The world soon felt it: and, on high,<br>To William's ear with welcome joy<br>Did Locke among the blest unfold<br>The rising hope of Hoadly's name,<br>Godolphin then confirm'd the fame;<br>And Somers, when from earth he came,<br>And generous Stanhope the fair sequel told.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II. 2.<br>Then drew the lawgivers around,<br>(Sires of the Grecian name renown'd)<br>And listening ask'd, and wondering knew,<br>What private force could thus subdue<br>The vulgar and the great combin'd;<br>Could war with sacred folly wage;<br>Could a whole nation disengage<br>From the dread bonds of many an age,<br>And to new habits mould the public mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II. 3.<br>For not a conqueror's sword,<br>Nor the strong powers to civil founders known,<br>Were his: but truth by faithful search explor'd,<br>And social sense, like seed, in genial plenty sown.<br>Wherever it took root, the soul (restor'd<br>To freedom) freedom too for others sought.<br>Not monkish craft the tyrant's claim divine,<br>Not regal zeal the bigot's cruel shrine<br>Could longer guard from reason's warfare sage;<br>Not the wild rabble to sedition wrought,<br>Nor synods by the papal Genius taught,<br>Nor St. John's spirit loose, nor Atterbury's rage.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III. 1.<br>But where shall recompence be found?<br>Or how such arduous merit crown'd?<br>For look on life's laborious scene:<br>What rugged spaces lie between<br>Adventurous virtue's early toils<br>And her triumphal throne! The shade<br>Of death, mean time, does oft invade<br>Her progress; nor, to us display'd,<br>Wears the bright heroine her expected spoils.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III. 2.<br>Yet born to conquer is her power:<br>—O Hoadly, if that favourite hour<br>On earth arrive, with thankful awe<br>We own just heaven's indulgent law,<br>And proudly thy success behold;<br>We attend thy reverend length of days<br>With benediction and with praise,<br>And hail Thee in our public ways<br>Like some great spirit fam'd in ages old.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III. 3. <br>While thus our vows prolong<br>Thy steps on earth, and when by us resign'd<br>Thou join'st thy seniors, that heroic throng<br>Who rescu'd or preserv'd the rights of human kind,<br>O! not unworthy may thy Albion's tongue<br>Thee still, her friend and benefactor, name:<br>O! never, Hoadly, in thy country's eyes,<br>May impious gold, or pleasure's gaudy prize,<br>Make public virtue, public freedom, vile;<br>Nor our own manners tempt us to disclaim<br>That heritage, our noblest wealth and fame,<br>Which Thou hast kept intire from force and factious guile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mark+Akenside">Mark Akenside</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454949" data-title="Ode VII: To The Right Reverend Benjamin Lord Bishop Of Winchester de Mark Akenside" data-description="I. 1. For toils which patriots have endur'd, For treason quell'd and laws secur'd, In every nation Time displays The palm of honourable praise. Envy may rail; and faction fierce May strive: but what, alas, can those (Though bold, yet blind and sor..."></div> </div> </div>
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