What sparkling jewels glance, man,

To harmony’s enchanting notes,

As moves the mazy dance, man!

The echoing wood, the winding flood,

Like Paradise did glitter,

When angels met at Adam’s yett

To hold their Fête Champetre.

When Politics came there, to mix

An make his ether-stane man

He circled round the magic ground,

But entrance found he nane, man:

He blush’d for shame, he quat his name,

Forswore it, every letter,

Wi humble prayer to join and share

This festive Fête Champetre.

ODE ON THE DEPARTED REGENCY BILL

Daughter of Chaos’ doting years,

Nurse often thousand hopes and fears!

Whether thy airy, unsubstantial shade

(The rights of sepulture now duly paid)

Spread abroad its hideous form

On the roaring civil storm,

Deafening din and warring rage

Factions wild with factions wage;

Or underground, deep-sunk, profound,

Among the demons of the earth,

With groans that make the mountains shake,

Thou mourn thy ill-starr’d, blighted birth,

Or in the uncreated Void,

Where seeds of future-being fight,

With lighten’d step thou wander wide

To greet thy mother – Ancient Night,

And as each jarring, monster-mass is past,

Fond recollect what once thou wast:

In manner due, beneath this sacred oak,

Hear, Spirit, hear! thy presence I invoke!

By a Monarch’s heaven-struck fate;

By a disunited State;

By a generous Prince’s wrongs;

By a Senate’s war of tongues;

By a Premier’s sullen pride

Louring on the changing tide:

By dread Thurlow’s powers to awe,

Rhetoric, blasphemy and law;

By the turbulent ocean,

At Nation’s commotion:

By the harlot-caresses

Of Borough addresses;

By days few and evil;

Thy portion, poor devil!

By Power, Wealth, and Show, the Gods by men adored!

By nameless Poverty! their Hell abhorred!

By all they hope! by all they fear!

Hear!!! and Appear!!!

Stare not on me, thou ghastly Power,

Nor, grim with chain’d defiance, lour!

No Babel-structure would I build

Where, Order exil’d from his native sway,

Confusion might the REGENT-sceptre wield

While all would rule and none obey:

Go, to the world of Man relate

The story of thy sad, eventful fate;

And call presumptuous Hope to hear

And bid him check his blind career:

And tell the sore-prest Sons of Care,

Never, never to despair!

Paint Charles’s speed on wings of fire

The object of his fond desire,

Beyond his boldest hopes, at hand.

Paint all the triumph of the Portland Band

Mark! how they lift the joy-exulting voice,

And how their num’rous creditors rejoice!

But just as hopes to warm enjoyment rise,

Cry ‘Convalescence!’ and the vision flies.

Then next pourtray a darkening twilight gloom

Eclipsing sad a gay, rejoicing morn,

While proud Ambition to th’ untimely tomb

By gnashing, grim, despairing fiends is borne!

Paint Ruin, in the shape of high Dundas

Gaping with giddy terror o’er the brow;

In vain he struggles, the Fates behind him press,

And clam’rous Hell yawns for her prey below!

How fallen That, whose pride late scaled the sides!

And This, like Lucifer, no more to rise!

Again pronounce the powerful word;