Weak reason serves to gain the will's assent; }
For souls, already warped, receive an easy bent. }
Add long prescription of established laws,
And pique of honour to maintain a cause,
And shame of change, and fear of future ill,
And zeal, the blind conductor of the will;
}
And chief, among the still-mistaking crowd, }
The fame of teachers obstinate and proud, }
And, more than all, the private judge allowed; }
}
Disdain of fathers which the dance began, }
And last, uncertain whose the narrower span, }
The clown unread, and half-read gentleman.— }
To this the Panther, with a scornful smile;—
Yet still you travel with unwearied toil,
}
And range around the realm without controul, }
Among my sons for proselytes to prowl; }
And here and there you snap some silly soul. }
You hinted fears of future change in state;
Pray heaven you did not prophesy your fate!
}
Perhaps, you think your time of triumph near, }
But may mistake the season of the year; }
The Swallow's fortune gives you cause to fear.—
[208] }For charity, replied the matron, tell
What sad mischance those pretty birds befel.—
}
Nay, no mischance, the savage dame replied, }
But want of wit in their unerring guide, }
And eager haste, and gaudy hopes, and giddy pride. }
Yet, wishing timely warning may prevail,
Make you the moral, and I'll tell the tale.
The Swallow, privileged above the rest
Of all the birds, as man's familiar guest,
Pursues the sun, in summer brisk and bold,
But wisely shuns the persecuting cold;
Is well to chancels and to chimnies known,
Though 'tis not thought she feeds on smoke alone.
From hence she has been held of heavenly line,
Endued with particles of soul divine.
This merry chorister had long possessed
Her summer-seat, and feathered well her nest;
Till frowning skies began to change their cheer,
And time turned up the wrong side of the year;
The shading trees began the ground to strow
With yellow leaves, and bitter blasts to blow.
Sad auguries of winter thence she drew,
Which by instinct, or prophecy, she knew;
When prudence warned her to remove betimes,
And seek a better heaven, and warmer climes.
Her sons were summoned on a steeple's height,
And, called in common council, vote a flight.
}
The day was named, the next that should be fair; }
All to the general rendezvous repair, }
They try their fluttering wings, and trust themselves in air. }
}
But whether upward to the moon they go, }
Or dream the winter out in caves below, }
Or hawk at flies elsewhere, concerns us not to know. }
}
Southwards you may be sure they bent their flight, }
And harboured in a hollow rock at night; }
Next morn they rose, and set up every sail;
The wind was fair, but blew a mackrel gale;
The sickly young sat shivering on the shore,
Abhorred salt-water never seen before.
And prayed their tender mothers to delay
The passage, and expect a fairer day.
With these the Martin readily concurred,
A church bigot, and church-believing bird;
}
Of little body, but of lofty mind, }
Round bellied, for a dignity designed, }
And much a dunce, as Martins are by kind; }
}
Yet often quoted canon-laws, and code, }
And fathers which he never understood; }
But little learning needs in noble blood. }
For, sooth to say, the Swallow brought him in,
Her household chaplain, and her next of kin;
In superstition silly to excess,
And casting schemes by planetary guess;
In fine, short-winged, unfit himself to fly,
His fear foretold foul weather in the sky.
Besides, a Raven from a withered oak,
[209]Left of their lodging, was observed to croak.
}
That omen liked him not; so his advice }
Was present safety, bought at any price; }
A seeming pious care, that covered cowardice. }
To strengthen this, he told a boding dream,
Of rising waters, and a troubled stream,
Sure signs of anguish, dangers, and distress,
With something more, not lawful to express:
By which he slily seemed to intimate
Some secret revelation of their fate.
For he concluded, once upon a time,
He found a leaf inscribed with sacred rhyme,
Whose antique characters did well denote
The Sibyl's hand of the Cumæan grot;
The mad divineress had plainly writ,
A time should come, but many ages yet,
}
In which, sinister destinies ordain, }
A dame should drown with all her feathered train, }
And seas from thence be called the Chelidonian main.
[210] }At this, some shook for fear; the more devout
Arose, and blessed themselves from head to foot.
'Tis true, some stagers of the wiser sort
Made all these idle wonderments their sport;
}
They said, their only danger was delay, }
And he, who heard what every fool could say, }
Would never fix his thought, but trim his time away. }
}
The passage yet was good; the wind, 'tis true, }
Was somewhat high, but that was nothing new, }
No more than usual equinoxes blew. }
}
The sun, already from the Scales declined, }
Gave little hopes of better days behind, }
But change from bad to worse, of weather and of wind. }
}
Nor need they fear the dampness of the sky }
Should flag their wings, and hinder them to fly, }
'Twas only water thrown on sails too dry. }
But, least of all, philosophy presumes
Of truth in dreams, from melancholy fumes;
Perhaps the Martin, housed in holy ground,
Might think of ghosts, that walk their midnight round,
Till grosser atoms, tumbling in the stream
Of fancy, madly met, and clubbed into a dream:
As little weight his vain presages bear,
Of ill effect to such alone who fear;
Most prophecies are of a piece with these,
Each Nostradamus can foretel with ease:
Not naming persons, and confounding times,
One casual truth supports a thousand lying rhymes.
The advice was true; but fear had seized the most,
And all good counsel is on cowards lost.
The question crudely put to shun delay,
'Twas carried by the major part to stay.
His point thus gained, Sir Martin dated thence
His power, and from a priest became a prince.
}
He ordered all things with a busy care, }
And cells and refectories did prepare, }
And large provisions laid of winter fare; }
}
But, now and then, let fall a word or two, }
Of hope, that heaven some miracle might show, }
And for their sakes, the sun should backward go; }
Against the laws of nature upward climb,
And, mounted on the Ram, renew the prime;
For which two proofs in sacred story lay,
Of Ahaz' dial, and of Joshua's day.
In expectation of such times as these,
A chapel housed them, truly called of ease;
For Martin much devotion did not ask;
They prayed sometimes, and that was all their task.
It happened, as beyond the reach of wit
Blind prophecies may have a lucky hit,
That this accomplished, or at least in part,
Gave great repute to their new Merlin's art.
}
Some Swifts,
[211] the giants of the Swallow kind,
}Large limbed, stout-hearted, but of stupid mind, }
(For Swisses, or for Gibeonites designed, }
These lubbers, peeping through a broken pane,
To suck fresh air, surveyed the neighbouring plain,
And saw, but scarcely could believe their eyes,
New blossoms flourish, and new flowers arise;
As God had been abroad, and, walking there,
Had left his footsteps, and reformed the year.
}
The sunny hills from far were seen to glow }
With glittering beams, and in the meads below }
The burnished brooks appeared with liquid gold to flow. }
At last they heard the foolish Cuckow sing,
Whose note proclaimed the holiday of spring.
No longer doubting, all prepare to fly,
And repossess their patrimonial sky.
}
The priest before them did his wings display; }
And that good omens might attend their way, }
As luck would have it, 'twas St Martin's day. }
Who but the Swallow now triumphs alone?
The canopy of heaven is all her own;
Her youthful offspring to their haunts repair,
And glide along in glades, and skim in air,
And dip for insects in the purling springs,
And stoop on rivers to refresh their wings.
Their mothers think a fair provision made,
That every son can live upon his trade,
And, now the careful charge is off their hands,
Look out for husbands, and new nuptial bands.
}
The youthful widow longs to be supplied; }
But first the lover is by lawyers tied, }
To settle jointure-chimnies on the bride. }
So thick they couple in so short a space,
That Martin's marriage-offerings rise apace.
Their ancient houses, running to decay,
Are furbished up, and cemented with clay:
They teem already; store of eggs are laid,
And brooding mothers call Lucina's aid.
}
Fame spreads the news, and foreign fowls appear, }
In flocks, to greet the new returning year, }
To bless the founder, and partake the cheer. }
And now 'twas time, so fast their numbers rise,
To plant abroad and people colonies.
The youth drawn forth, as Martin had desired,
(For so their cruel destiny required,)
Were sent far off on an ill-fated day;
The rest would needs conduct them on their way,
And Martin went, because he feared alone to stay.
So long they flew with inconsiderate haste,
That now their afternoon began to waste;
And, what was ominous, that very morn
The sun was entered into Capricorn;
Which, by their bad astronomer's account,
That week the Virgin balance should remount.
An infant moon eclipsed him in his way,
And hid the small remainders of his day.
The crowd, amazed, pursued no certain mark,
But birds met birds, and jostled in the dark.
[212]Few mind the public, in a panic fright,
And fear increased the horror of the night.
Night came, but unattended with repose;
Alone she came, no sleep their eyes to close;
Alone, and black she came; no friendly stars arose.
What should they do, beset with dangers round,
No neighbouring dorp,
[213] no lodging to be found,
But bleaky plains, and bare, unhospitable ground?
The latter brood, who just began to fly,
Sick-feathered, and unpractised in the sky,
For succour to their helpless mother call:
She spread her wings; some few beneath them crawl;
She spread them wider yet, but could not cover all.
To augment their woes, the winds began to move,
Debate in air for empty fields above,
Till Boreas got the skies, and poured amain
His rattling hailstones, mixed with snow and rain.
}
The joyless morning late arose, and found }
A dreadful desolation reign around, }
Some buried in the snow, some frozen to the ground. }
The rest were struggling still with death, and lay
The Crows and Ravens rights an undefended prey:
Excepting Martin's race; for they and he
Had gained the shelter of a hollow tree;
}
But, soon discovered by a sturdy clown, }
He headed all the rabble of a town, }
And finished them with bats, or polled them down. }
}
Martin himself was caught alive, and tried }
For treasonous crimes, because the laws provide }
No Martin there in winter shall abide. }
High on an oak, which never leaf shall bear,
He breathed his last, exposed to open air;
And there his corpse unblessed is hanging still,
To show the change of winds with his prophetic bill.—
[214]The patience of the Hind did almost fail,
For well she marked the malice of the tale;
}
Which ribbald art their church to Luther owes; }
In malice it began, by malice grows; }
He sowed the serpent's teeth, an iron harvest rose. }
But most in Martin's character and fate,
She saw her slandered sons, the Panther's hate,
The people's rage, the persecuting state:
[215]Then said, I take the advice in friendly part;
You clear your conscience, or at least your heart.
Perhaps you failed in your foreseeing skill,
For Swallows are unlucky birds to kill:
As for my sons, the family is blessed,
Whose every child is equal to the rest;
No church reformed can boast a blameless line,
Such Martins build in yours, and more than mine;
Or else an old fanatic author lies,
Who summed their scandals up by centuries.
[216]But through your parable I plainly see
The bloody laws, the crowd's barbarity;
The sunshine, that offends the purblind sight,
Had some their wishes, it would soon be night.
[217]Mistake me not; the charge concerns not you;
Your sons are malecontents, but yet are true,
As far as non-resistance makes them so;
But that's a word of neutral sense, you know,
A passive term, which no relief will bring,
But trims betwixt a rebel and a king.—
}
Rest well assured, the Pardelis replied, }
My sons would all support the regal side, }
Though heaven forbid the cause by battle should be tried.— }
The matron answered with a loud Amen,
And thus pursued her arguments again:—
}
If, as you say, and as I hope no less, }
Your sons will practise what yourselves profess, }
What angry power prevents our present peace? }
The Lion, studious of our common good,
Desires (and kings' desires are ill withstood)
}
To join our nations in a lasting love; }
The bars betwixt are easy to remove, }
For sanguinary laws were never made above.
[217a] }If you condemn that prince of tyranny,
Whose mandate forced your Gallic friends to fly,
[218]}
Make not a worse example of your own, }
Or cease to rail at causeless rigour shown, }
And let the guiltless person throw the stone. }
His blunted sword your suffering brotherhood
Have seldom felt; he stops it short of blood:
But you have ground the persecuting knife,
And set it to a razor-edge on life.
}
Cursed be the wit, which cruelty refines, }
Or to his father's rod the scorpion joins! }
Your finger is more gross than the great monarch's loins. }
But you, perhaps, remove that bloody note,
And stick it on the first reformers' coat.
Oh let their crime in long oblivion sleep;
'Twas theirs indeed to make, 'tis yours to keep!
Unjust, or just, is all the question now;
'Tis plain, that, not repealing, you allow.
To name the Test would put you in a rage;
You charge not that on any former age,
But smile to think how innocent you stand,
Armed by a weapon put into your hand.
Yet still remember, that you wield a sword,
Forged by your foes against your sovereign lord;
Designed to hew the imperial cedar down,
Defraud succession, and dis-heir the crown.
[219]To abhor the makers, and their laws approve,
Is to hate traitors, and the treason love.
What means it else, which now your children say,
We made it not, nor will we take away?
}
Suppose some great oppressor had, by slight }
Of law, disseised your brother of his right, }
Your common sire surrendering in a fright; }
Would you to that unrighteous title stand,
Left by the villain's will to heir the land?
}
More just was Judas, who his Saviour sold; }
The sacrilegious bribe he could not hold, }
Nor hang in peace, before he rendered back the gold. }
What more could you have done, than now you do,
Had Oates and Bedlow and their plot been true?
}
Some specious reasons for those wrongs were found; }
The dire magicians threw their mists around, }
And wise men walked as on enchanted ground. }
}
But now when time has made the imposture plain, }
(Late though he followed truth, and limping held her train, }
What new delusion charms your cheated eyes again? }
The painted harlot might a while bewitch,
But why the hag uncased, and all obscene with itch?
[220]The first reformers were a modest race;
Our peers possessed in peace their native place,
And when rebellious arms o'erturned the state,
They suffered only in the common fate;
But now the sovereign mounts the regal chair,
And mitred seats are full, yet David's bench is bare.
[221]Your answer is, they were not dispossest;
They need but rub their mettle on the Test
To prove their ore;—'twere well if gold alone
Were touched and tried on your discerning stone;
But that unfaithful test unfound will pass
The dross of Atheists, and sectarian brass;
As if the experiment were made to hold
For base production, and reject the gold.
Thus men ungodded may to places rise,
And sects may be preferred without disguise;
No danger to the church or state from these,
The Papist only has his writ of ease.
No gainful office gives him the pretence
To grind the subject, or defraud the prince.
Wrong conscience, or no conscience, may deserve
To thrive, but ours alone is privileged to starve.
Still thank yourselves, you cry; your noble race
We banish not, but they forsake the place;
Our doors are open:—true, but ere they come,
You toss your 'censing test, and fume the room;
As if 'twere Toby's rival to expel,
And fright the fiend who could not bear the smell.
[222]}
To this the Panther sharply had replied, }
But having gained a verdict on her side, }
She wisely gave the loser leave to chide; }
}
Well satisfied to have the
but and peace,
[223] }And for the plaintiff's cause she cared the less, }
Because she sued in forma pauperis; }
Yet thought it decent something should be said,
For secret guilt by silence is betrayed;
So neither granted all, nor much denied,
But answered with a yawning kind of pride:
Methinks such terms of proffered peace you bring,
As once Æneas to the Italian king:
[224]}
By long possession all the land is mine; }
You strangers come with your intruding line, }
To share my sceptre, which you call to join. }
You plead like him an ancient pedigree,
And claim a peaceful seat by fate's decree.
In ready pomp your sacrificer stands,
To unite the Trojan and the Latin bands;
And, that the league more firmly may be tied,
Demand the fair Lavinia for your bride.
Thus plausibly you veil the intended wrong,
But still you bring your exiled gods along;
And will endeavour, in succeeding space,
Those household puppets on our hearths to place.
Perhaps some barbarous laws have been preferred;
I spake against the Test, but was not heard.