The friends of Freedom in this country are idle. Some are timid; some are selfish; and many the torpedo torch of hopelessness has numbed into inactivity. We would fain hope that (if the above account be accurate--it is only the French account) this dreadful instance of infatuation in our Ministry will rouse them to one effort more; and that at one and the same time in our different great towns the people will be called on to think solemnly, and declare their thoughts fearlessly by every method which the _remnant_ of the Constitution allows. _4{o}_. IV] Antistrophe I. C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803. [62] no earthly] an awful C. I. [65] thy . . . gore] there garmented with gore C. I., 4{o}, 1797. [65-7] Aye Memory sits: thy vest profan'd with gore. Thou with an unimaginable groan Gav'st reck'ning of thy Hours! 1803. [68] ethereal] choired C. I. [69] Whose purple locks with snow-white glories shone C. I., 4{o}: Whose wreathed locks with snow-white glories shone 1797, 1803. [70] wild] strange C. I. V] Antistrophe II. C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803. [74-9] On every Harp on every Tongue While the mute Enchantment hung: Like Midnight from a thunder-cloud Spake the sudden Spirit loud. C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803. The sudden Spirit cried aloud. C. I. Like Thunder from a Midnight Cloud Spake the sudden Spirit loud 1803. [83] Arm] God C. I. [Between 83 and 84] By Belgium's corse-impeded flood,[165:A] By Vendee steaming [streaming C. I.] Brother's blood. C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803. [165:A] The Rhine. _C. I._, _1797_, _1803_. [85] And mask'd Hate C. I. [87] By Hunger's bosom to the bleak winds bar'd C. I. [89] Strange] Most C. I. [90] By] And C. I. [91] Synod] Senate 1797, 1803. [94-102] For ever shall the bloody island scowl? For ever shall her vast and iron bow Shoot Famine's evil arrows o'er the world,[165:B] Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans below; Rise, God of Mercy, rise! why sleep thy bolts unhurl'd? C. I. For ever shall the bloody Island scowl? For aye, unbroken shall her cruel Bow Shoot Famine's arrows o'er thy ravaged World? Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans below-- Rise, God of Nature, rise, why sleep thy Bolts unhurl'd? 4{o}, 1797, 1803. Rise God of Nature, rise! ah! why those bolts unhurl'd? 1797, 1803. [165:B] 'In Europe the smoking villages of Flanders and the putrified fields of La Vendée--from Africa the unnumbered victims of a detestable Slave-Trade. In Asia the desolated plains of Indostan, and the millions whom a rice-contracting Governor caused to perish. In America the recent enormities of the Scalp-merchants. The four quarters of the globe groan beneath the intolerable iniquity of the nation.' See 'Addresses to the People', p. 46. _C. I._ [102] Here the Ode ends C. I. VI] Epode II. 4{o}, 1797, 1803. [103] Vision] Phantoms 4{o}, 1797, 1803.