Thus plain'd the boys, when, from her throne of turf, With boils emboss'd, and overgrown with scurf, Vile humours which, in life's corrupted well Mix'd at the birth, not abstinence could quell, Pale Famine rear'd the head; her eager eyes, Where hunger e'en to madness seem'd to rise, Speaking aloud her throes and pangs of heart, Strain'd to get loose, and from their orbs to start: 410 Her hollow cheeks were each a deep-sunk cell, Where wretchedness and horror loved to dwell; With double rows of useless teeth supplied, Her mouth, from ear to ear, extended wide, Which, when for want of food her entrails pined, She oped, and, cursing, swallow'd nought but wind: All shrivell'd was her skin; and here and there, Making their way by force, her bones lay bare: Such filthy sight to hide from human view, O'er her foul limbs a tatter'd plaid she threw. 420 Cease, cried the goddess, cease, despairing swains! And from a parent hear what Jove ordains. Pent in this barren corner of the isle, Where partial fortune never deign'd to smile; Like nature's bastards, reaping for our share What was rejected by the lawful heir; Unknown amongst the nations of the earth, Or only known to raise contempt and mirth; Long free, because the race of Roman braves Thought it not worth their while to make us slaves; 430 Then into bondage by that nation brought, Whose ruin we for ages vainly sought; Whom still with unslaked hate we view, and still, The power of mischief lost, retain the will; Consider'd as the refuse of mankind, A mass till the last moment left behind, Which frugal nature doubted, as it lay, Whether to stamp with life or throw away; Which, form'd in haste, was planted in this nook, But never enter'd in Creation's book; 440 Branded as traitors who, for love of gold, Would sell their God, as once their king they sold,-- Long have we borne this mighty weight of ill, These vile injurious taunts, and bear them still. But times of happier note are now at hand, And the full promise of a better land: There, like the sons of Israel, having trod, For the fix'd term of years ordain'd by God, A barren desert, we shall seize rich plains, Where milk with honey flows, and plenty reigns: 450 With some few natives join'd, some pliant few, Who worship Interest and our track pursue; There shall we, though the wretched people grieve, Ravage at large, nor ask the owners' leave. For us, the earth shall bring forth her increase; For us, the flocks shall wear a golden fleece; Fat beeves shall yield us dainties not our own, And the grape bleed a nectar yet unknown: For our advantage shall their harvests grow, And Scotsmen reap what they disdain'd to sow: 460 For us, the sun shall climb the eastern hill; For us, the rain shall fall, the dew distil. When to our wishes Nature cannot rise, Art shall be task'd to grant us fresh supplies;