Into a grievous sore of self-tormenting earth.[779] Can such a One, dear Babe! though glad and proud To welcome thee, repel the fears that crowd Into his English breast, and spare to quake 80 Less for his own than[780] for thy innocent sake? Too late--or, should the providence of God Lead, through dark[781] ways by sin and sorrow trod, Justice and peace to a secure abode, Too soon--thou com'st into this breathing world; 85 Ensigns of mimic outrage are unfurled. Who shall preserve or prop the tottering Realm? What hand suffice to govern the state-helm? If, in the aims of men, the surest test Of good or bad (whate'er be sought for or profest) 90 Lie in the means required, or ways ordained, For compassing the end, else never gained; Yet governors and govern'd both are blind To this plain truth, or fling it to the wind; If to expedience principle must bow; 95 Past, future, shrinking up beneath the incumbent Now; If cowardly concession still must feed The thirst for power in men who ne'er concede; Nor turn aside, unless to shape a way For domination at some riper day; 100 If[782] generous Loyalty must stand in awe Of subtle Treason, in[783] his mask of law, Or with bravado insolent and hard, Provoking punishment, to win reward; If office help the factious to conspire, 105 And they who _should_ extinguish, fan the fire-- Then, will the sceptre be a straw, the crown Sit loosely, like the thistle's crest of down; To be blown off at will, by Power that spares it In cunning patience, from the head that wears it. 110