Who had some thoughts his peace by flight to seek-- But how then lecture, if he dared not speak!-- Now as the Justice for the war prepared, He seem’d just then to question if he dared: “He may resist, although his power be small, 360 And growing desperate may defy us all; One dog attack, and he prepares for flight-- Resist another, and he strives to bite; Nor can I say, if this rebellious cur Will fly for safety, or will scorn to stir.” Alarm’d by this, he lash’d his soul to rage, Burn’d with strong shame, and hurried to engage. As a male turkey straggling on the green, When by fierce harriers, terriers, mongrels seen, He feels the insult of the noisy train, 370 And sculks aside, though moved by much disdain; But when that turkey, at his own barn-door, Sees one poor straying puppy and no more, (A foolish puppy who had left the pack, Thoughtless what foe was threat’ning at his back,) He moves about, as ship prepared to sail, He hoists his proud rotundity of tail, The half-seal’d eyes and changeful neck he shows, Where, in its quick’ning colours, vengeance glows; From red to blue the pendant wattles turn, 380 Blue mix’d with red, as matches when they burn; And thus th’ intruding snarler to oppose, Urged by enkindling wrath, he gobbling goes. So look’d our hero in his wrath, his cheeks Flush’d with fresh fires and glow’d in tingling streaks; His breath by passion’s force awhile restrain’d, Like a stopp’d current, greater force regain’d; So spoke, so look’d he, every eye and ear Were fix’d to view him, or were turn’d to hear. “My friends, you know me, you can witness all, 390 How, urged by passion, I restrain my gall; And every motive to revenge withstand-- Save when I hear abused my native land. “Is it not known, agreed, confirm’d, confess’d, That of all people, we are govern’d best? We have the force of monarchies; are free, As the most proud republicans can be; And have those prudent counsels that arise In grave and cautious aristocracies; And live there those, in such all-glorious state, 400 Traitors protected in the land they hate? Rebels, still warring with the laws that give To them subsistence?--Yes, such wretches live. “Ours is a church reform’d, and now no more Is aught for man to mend or to restore; ’Tis pure in doctrines, ’tis correct in creeds, Has nought redundant, and it nothing needs; No evil is therein--no wrinkle, spot, Stain, blame, or blemish:--I affirm there’s not. “All this you know--now mark what once befell, 410 With grief I bore it, and with shame I tell; I was entrapp’d--yes, so it came to pass, ’Mid heathen rebels, a tumultuous class; Each to his country bore a hellish mind,