Nor long the time ere Britain’s shores shall greet The warrior-sage, with gratulation sweet: Eager to grasp the wreath of naval fame, The GREAT REPUBLIC plans the _Floating Frame_! O’er the huge plane gigantic _Terror_ stalks, And counts with joy the close-compacted balks: Of young-eyed _Massacres_ the Cherub crew, Round their grim chief the mimic task pursue; Turn the stiff screw,[249] apply the strengthening clamp, Drive the long bolt, or fix the stubborn cramp, Lash the reluctant beam, the cable splice, Join the firm dove-tail with adjustment nice, Through yawning fissures urge the willing wedge, Or give the smoothing adze a sharper edge. Or group’d in fairy bands, with playful care, The unconscious bullet to the furnace bear;— Or gaily tittering, tip the match with fire, Prime the big mortar, bid the shell aspire; Applaud, with tiny hands, and laughing eyes, And watch the bright destruction as it flies. Now the fierce forges gleam with angry glare— The windmill[250] waves his woven wings in air; Swells the proud sail, the exulting streamers fly, Their nimble fins unnumber’d paddles ply: Ye soft airs breathe, ye gentle billows waft, And, fraught with Freedom, bear the expected Raft! Perch’d on her back, behold the Patriot train, MUIR, ASHLEY, BARLOW, TONE, O’CONNOR, PAINE! While TANDY’S hand directs the blood-empurpled rein. Ye Imps of Murder! guard her angel form, Check the rude surge, and chase the hovering storm; Shield from contusive rocks her timber limbs, And guide the sweet Enthusiast[251] as she swims! And now, with web-foot oars, she gains the land, And foreign footsteps press the yielding sand: The Communes spread, the gay Departments smile, Fair Freedom’s Plant o’ershades the laughing isle: Fired with new hopes, the exulting peasant sees The Gallic streamer woo the British breeze;[252] While, pleased to watch its undulating charms, The smiling infant[253] spreads his little arms. Ye sylphs of DEATH! on demon pinions flit Where the tall Guillotine is raised for PITT: To the poised plank tie fast the monster’s back,[254] Close the nice slider, ope the expectant sack; Then twitch, with fairy hands, the frolic pin— Down falls the impatient axe with deafening din; The liberated head rolls off below,[255] And simpering Freedom hails the happy blow! [The following lines of Dr. Darwin’s, in Canto ii., gave great offence to the Government:—