Ode On The Departed Regency Bill（2 / 2）

stare not on me, thou ghastly power!

nor, grim with chained defiance, lour:

no babel-structure would i build

where, order exil'd from his native sway,

confusion may the regent-sceptre wield,

while all would rule and none obey:

go, to the world of man relate

the story of thy sad, eventful fate;

and call presumptuous hope to hear

and bid him check his blind career;

and tell the sore-prest sons of care,

never, never to despair!

paint charles' speed on wings of fire,

the object of his fond desire,

beyond his boldest hopes, at hand:

paint all the triumph of the portland band;

hark how they lift the joy-elated voice!

and who are these that equally rejoice?

jews, gentiles, what a motley crew!

the iron tears their flinty cheeks bedew;

see how unfurled the parchment ensigns fly,

and principal and interest all the cry!

and how their num'rous creditors rejoice;

but just as hopes to warm enjoyment rise,

cry convalescence! and the vision flies.

then next pourtray a dark'ning twilight gloom,

eclipsing sad a gay, rejoicing morn,

while proud ambition to th' untimely tomb

by gnashing, grim, despairing fiends is borne:

paint ruin, in the shape of high d[undas]

gaping with giddy terror o'er the brow;

in vain he struggles, the fates behind him press,

and clam'rous hell yawns for her prey below:

how fallen that, whose pride late scaled the skies!

and this, like lucifer, no more to rise!

again pronounce the powerful word;

see day, triumphant from the night, restored.

then know this truth, ye sons of men!

(thus ends thy moral tale,)

your darkest terrors may be vain,

your brightest hopes may fail.