Lost people, trained to theoretic feud! Lost above all, ye labouring multitude! Bewildered whether ye, by slanderous tongues Deceived, mistake calamities for wrongs; And over fancied usurpations brood, 115 Oft snapping at revenge in sullen mood; Or, from long stress of real injuries fly To desperation for a remedy; In bursts of outrage spread your judgments wide, And to your wrath cry out, "Be thou our guide;" 120 Or, bound by oaths, come forth to tread earth's floor In marshalled thousands, darkening street and moor With the worst shape mock-patience ever wore; Or, to the giddy top of self-esteem By Flatterers carried, mount into a dream 125 Of boundless suffrage, at whose sage behest Justice shall rule, disorder be supprest, And every man sit down as Plenty's Guest! --O for a bridle bitted with remorse To stop your Loaders in their headstrong course![784] 130 Oh may the Almighty scatter with his grace These mists, and lead you to a safer place, By paths no human wisdom can foretrace! May He pour round you, from worlds far above Man's feverish passions, his pure light of love, 135 That quietly restores the natural mien To hope, and makes truth willing to be seen! _Else_ shall your blood-stained hands in frenzy reap Fields gaily sown when promises were cheap.-- Why is the Past belied with wicked art, 140 The Future made to play so false a part, Among a people famed for strength of mind, Foremost in freedom, noblest of mankind? We act as if we joyed in the sad tune Storms make in rising, valued in the moon 145 Nought but her changes. Thus, ungrateful Nation! If thou persist, and, scorning moderation, Spread for thyself the snares of tribulation, Whom, then, shall meekness guard? What saving skill Lie in forbearance, strength in standing still? 150 --Soon shall the widow (for the speed of Time Nought equals when the hours are winged with crime) Widow, or wife, implore on tremulous knee, From him who judged her lord, a like decree; The skies will weep o'er old men desolate: 155 Ye little-ones! Earth shudders at your fate, Outcasts and homeless orphans---- But turn, my Soul, and from the sleeping pair Learn thou the beauty of omniscient care! Be strong in faith, bid anxious thoughts lie still; 160 Seek for the good and cherish it--the ill Oppose, or bear with a submissive will. FOOTNOTES: [770] 1835. To that hope ... C. [771] 1837. Upon each home-event ... 1835. [772] "_The Warning_ was composed on horseback when I was riding from Moresby in a snow-storm."--(W. W. to his nephew, the late Bishop of Lincoln.) [773] 1840.