10 Thee justice guides, thee right maintains, The oppressor's wrongs, the pilferer's gains, Thy injured weal impair. Thy warmest passions soon subside, Nor partial envy, hate, nor pride, Thy tempered counsels share. 11 Each instance of thy vengeful rage, Collected from each clime and age, Though malice swell the sum, Would seem a spotless scanty scroll, Compared with Marius' bloody roll, Or Sylla's hippodrome. 12 But thine has been imputed blame, The unworthy few assume thy name, The rabble weak and loud; Or those who on thy ruins feast, The lord, the lawyer, and the priest; A more ignoble crowd. 13 Avails it thee, if one devours, Or lesser spoilers share his powers, While both thy claim oppose? Monsters who wore thy sullied crown, Tyrants who pulled those monsters down, Alike to thee were foes. 14 Far other shone fair Freedom's band, Far other was the immortal stand, When Hampden fought for thee: They snatched from rapine's gripe thy spoils, The fruits and prize of glorious toils, Of arts and industry. 15 On thee yet foams the preacher's rage, On thee fierce frowns the historian's page, A false apostate train: Tears stream adown the martyr's tomb; Unpitied in their harder doom, Thy thousands strow the plain. 16 These had no charms to please the sense, No graceful port, no eloquence, To win the Muse's throng: Unknown, unsung, unmarked they lie; But Caesar's fate o'ercasts the sky, And Nature mourns his wrong. 17 Thy foes, a frontless band, invade; Thy friends afford a timid aid, And yield up half the right. Even Locke beams forth a mingled ray, Afraid to pour the flood of day On man's too feeble sight. 18 Hence are the motley systems framed, Of right transferred, of power reclaimed; Distinctions weak and vain. Wise nature mocks the wrangling herd; For unreclaimed, and untransferred, Her powers and rights remain. 19 While law the royal agent moves, The instrument thy choice approves, We bow through him to you. But change, or cease the inspiring choice, The sovereign sinks a private voice, Alike in one, or few! 20 Shall then the wretch, whose dastard heart Shrinks at a tyrant's nobler part, And only dares betray; With reptile wiles, alas! prevail, Where force, and rage, and priestcraft fail, To pilfer power away? 21 Oh! shall the bought, and buying tribe, The slaves who take, and deal the bribe, A people's claims enjoy! So Indian murderers hope to gain The powers and virtues of the slain, Of wretches they destroy. 22 'Avert it, Heaven! you love the brave, You hate the treacherous, willing slave, The self-devoted head; Nor shall an hireling's voice convey That sacred prize to lawless sway, For which a nation bled.'