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Whose toil unceasing has for centuries,
It may be, kept its springs forever wound.
So all goes on. Wheels interlocked with wheels
Bite with their iron cogs; the whirring shafts,
The massive balance-wheels, the springs, the weights,
A living labyrinth, move all at once;
The awe-inspiring engine marches on,
Inexorably and unceasingly,
In the performance of its mighty task;
And nations, caught within its myriad arms,
Would vanish, crushed, if they stood not aside.
And I would God impede, whose blessed law
Gives us a place apart in the worlds destiny!
Trampling upon the immemorial rights
Of the chosen people, put my interests
In place of theirs! As pilot, set the sails
For adverse winds!
[Shaking his head.]⁠Nay, nay, I'll not bestow
That pleasure on our false and faithless brethren.
Still the old English ship doth rule the waves.
The giant's on his feet. These plots obscure—
Of what avail are they when aimed against
Great Britain's proud and lofty destiny?
What is a mattock's blow upon a mountain-side?
[Casting a lynx-like glance over the assemblage.
'Ware, evildoers! What ye do is known,
The water's clear, though the abyss is deep.
The bottom of your trap, wherein your schemes
Do crawl, is visible. With his own sting
The viper 's sometimes stung; too frequently
We burn ourselves at the fire that we light.
And the Lord's eyes run swiftly here and there.—
Who broke the bond between the kings and people?
'Twas I.—And think ye, then, with this vain bait,
A crown, to capture me?—In former days