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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455578" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Written For My Son, And Spoken By Him, At A public Examination For Victors.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To you, Athenians, we again submit;<br>Reward, or punish us, as you think fit.<br>Let Idleness, unpity'd, meet Disgrace;<br>For Idleness, this Year, is doubly base.<br>This is the Æra, this the destin'd Year,<br>For Arts and Sciences to flourish here.<br>The Muses, exil'd long, to Court repair;<br>And--strange to think! are all the Fashion there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who feels not now a gen'rous Emulation,<br>When Merit raises to the highest Station?<br>Scholars may surely hope a better Fate,<br>Whilst Carteret directs the Helm of State.<br>O would he govern here by Grecian Rules,<br>And chuse a Senate, to preside o'er Schools;<br>Honour, alone, to pay the glorious Task,<br>(A Recompence no Foreigner would ask!)<br>Then kind Britannia, doubtless, would consent,<br>Hibernia should supply a President.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Too oft, alas! are Talents misapply'd,<br>By Parents Fondness, Ignorance, and Pride.<br>This Grievance then would cease, and we should be<br>Regarded, as the Publick's Property:<br>Genius alone would be consulted then,<br>(The only Way to make us useful Men)<br>And each would have his sev'ral Task assign'd,<br>As Nature gave the Biass to his Mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Boys of a brutal, cruel Disposition,<br>Should go to Spain, to serve the Inquisition.<br>O what a Change in Landlords would appear!<br>Next Age, not one would rack his Tenants here.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Lads, who study but to dress and dance,<br>Should cultivate their Worthlesness in France.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those who love Liberty, to Albion roam;<br>But, could they bear Oppression,--stay at home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then glorious Ancestors would cease to be<br>Degraded by a worthless Progeny.<br>None should from noble Blood their Lineage trace,<br>Unless they added Lustre to their Race.<br>That the degen'rate Off--spring of the Great<br>Might be no more a Burden to the State;<br>The Sons of Peers, with mean, ignoble Hearts,<br>In Holland should be taught mechanic Arts;<br>And Boys of Genius to those Honours soar,<br>Which high--born Dunces but disgrac'd before:<br>See Nature, thus, the gen'rous Juice divide;<br>The Spirit rises, and the Dregs subside.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus modell'd, we may hope for happier Times;<br>Our Isle will be rever'd by distant Climes:<br>And, lest Posterity should think us rude,<br>And lost, at once, to Shame and Gratitude;<br>A Patriot Race shall sing the Drapier's Praise,<br>And civic Crowns fhall mingle with His Bays:<br>Nor shall His Works alone His Worth proclaim,<br>(Tho' none, like those, can eternize His Name)<br>His Statue shall be rais'd in ev'ry Street,<br>With proud Oppression, writhing at His Feet;<br>At his Right--hand fair Liberty shall smile,<br>Protected by the Guardian of our Isle;<br>On t'other Side, the Goddess Fame shall stand,<br>With His immortal Labours in her Hand:<br>Then shall each gen'rous Youth, who passes by,<br>And sees the Patriot's Image, plac'd on high,<br>With Emulation feel his Bosom fir'd,<br>And thus break forth, by Gratitude inspir'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">``O Thou, whose Genius rose, to save the State,<br>``And snatch Thy Country from the Brink of Fate!<br>``When for Thy Life Hibernia sues in vain,<br>``And Heav'n no longer will Thy Crown detain;<br>``Her grateful Sons, already rob'd in White,<br>``Shall hail Thee, glorious, in the Realms of Light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<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=455578" data-title="Written For My Son, And Spoken By Him, At A public Examination For Victors. de Mary Barber" data-description="To you, Athenians, we again submit;
Reward, or punish us, as you think fit.
Let Idleness, unpity'd, meet Disgrace;
For Idleness, this Year, is doubly base.
This is the Æra, this the destin'd Year,
For Arts and Sciences to flourish here.
The Muses..."></div>
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