O MURRAY! MURRAY! once of truth approv'd, Your Prince's darling, by his party lov'd; When all were fond your worth and fame to raise, And expectation spoke your future praise. How could you sell that Prince, that cause, that fame, For life enchain'd to infamy and shame? See gallant ARTHUR,[187] whose undaunted soul No dangers frighten, and no fears controul; With unconcern the ax and block surveys, And smiles at all the dreadful scene displays; While undisturb'd his thoughts so steddy keep He goes to death, as others go to sleep. Gay midst their gibbets and devouring fire [Sidenote: _fol._ 413.] What numbers hardy in the cause expire! But what are these to thee? examples vain. Yet see, and blush, if still the pow'r remain. Behold the menial hand,[188] that broke your bread, That wiped your shoes, and with your crumbs was fed; When life and riches proffer'd to his view Before his eyes the strong temptation threw, Rather than quit integrity of heart, Or act like you the unmanly traitor's part, Disdains the purchase of a worthless life, And bares his bosom to the butch'ring knife; Each mean compliance gallantly denies, And in mute honesty is brave and dies. While you, tho' tutor'd from your early youth To all the principles of steddy truth; Tho' station, birth, and character conspire To kindle in your breast the manly fire; Friends, reputation, conscience, all disclaim. To glory lost, and sunk in endless shame, For the dull privilege to breathe the air, For everlasting infamy declare, And down to late posterity record A name that's curs'd, abandon'd, and abhorr'd. [Sidenote: _fol._ 414.] Go, wretch! enjoy the purchase you have gain'd. Scorn and reproach your ev'ry step attend. By all mankind neglected and forgot Retire to solitude, retire and rot. But whither? whither can the guilty fly From the devouring worms that never die; Those inward stings that rack the villain's breast, Haunt his lone hours and break his tortur'd rest? Midst caves, midst rocks and deserts you may find A safe retreat for all the human kind. But to what foreign region can you run, Your greatest enemy, yourself, to shun? Where'er thou go'st, wild anguish and despair And black remorse attend with hideous stare; Tear your distracted soul with torments fell, Your passions devils, and your bosom hell. Thus may you drag your heavy chain along, Some minutes more inglorious life prolong. And when the fates shall cut a coward's breath, Weary of being, yet afraid of death; If crimes like thine hereafter are forgiv'n, JUDAS and MURRAY both may go to Heav'n. [187] Lord Balmerino.