You ask for mercy--can you cry to God,[20] Who had no mercy on poor parson Dodd?[N] No inward image of the power divine, No gentle feelings warm that soul of thine; Convents you have--no need to look for new, Your convents are the brothel and the stew. One horrid act[O] disgrac'd old Jesse's son, And that one blemish have you hit upon; You seiz'd an English Quaker's tempting wife,[P] And push'd him off to lose his sneaking life; Even to that coast where freedom sent to quell, All in their pride the flower of Britain fell. But ruin'd was your scheme, the plan was vain, For when were Quakers in a battle slain? As well might Whales by closing waves expire, Or Salamanders perish in the fire. When France and Spain are thund'ring at your doors, Is this a time for kings to lodge with whores? In one short sentence take my whole advice, (It is no time to flatter and be nice) With all your soul for instant peace contend, Thus shall you be your country's truest friend-- Peace, heavenly[21] peace, may stay your tottering throne, But wars and death and blood can profit none. To Russia[22] send, in humblest guise array'd, And beg her intercession, not her aid: Withdraw your armies from th' Americ' shore, And vex Columbia[23] with your fleets no more; Vain are their conquests, past experience shews, For what this hour they gain, the next they lose. Implore the friendship of these injur'd States; No longer strive against the stubborn fates. Since heav'n has doom'd Columbia to be free, What is her commerce and her wealth to thee? Since heav'n that land of promise has denied, Regain by prudence[24] what you lost by pride: Immediate ruin each delay attends, Imperial Britain scarce her coast defends; Hibernia sees the threat'ning foes advance, And feels an ague at the thoughts of France; Jamaica mourns her half-protected state, Barbadoes soon may share Grenada's fate, And every isle that owns your reign to-day, May bow to-morrow to great Louis'[25] sway. Yes--while I speak, your empire, great before, Contracts its limits, and is great no more. Unhappy prince! what madness has possest, What worse than madness seiz'd thy vengeful breast, When white-rob'd peace before thy portal stood, To drive her hence, and stain the world with blood? For this destruction threatens from the skies; See hostile navies to our ruin rise; Our fleets inglorious shun the force of Spain, And France triumphant stems the subject main. [N] Dr. William Dodd, whose history is well known.--_Freneau's note._ [O] In the case of Uriah.--_Ib._