BOOK THE NINTH.
359
To beat. Accursed hour! for man no more
To Justice paid his homage, but forsook 845
Her altars, and bow'd down before the shrine
Of Wealth and Power, the Idols he had made.
Then Hell enlarg'd herself, her gates flew wide,
Her legion fiends rush'd forth. Oppression came
Whose frown is desolation, and whose breath 850
Blasts like the Pestilence; and Poverty,
A meagre monster, who with withering touch
Makes barren all the better part of man,
Mother of Miseries; then the goodly earth
Which God had framed for happiness, became 855
One theatre of woe, and all that God
Had given to bless free men, these tyrant fiends
His bitterest curses made. Yet for the best
Hath he ordained all things, the All-wise!
For by experience rous'd shall man at length 860
Dash down his Moloch-gods, Samson-like
And burst his fetters—only strong whilst strong
Believed; then in the bottomless abyss
To Justice paid his homage, but forsook 845
Her altars, and bow'd down before the shrine
Of Wealth and Power, the Idols he had made.
Then Hell enlarg'd herself, her gates flew wide,
Her legion fiends rush'd forth. Oppression came
Whose frown is desolation, and whose breath 850
Blasts like the Pestilence; and Poverty,
A meagre monster, who with withering touch
Makes barren all the better part of man,
Mother of Miseries; then the goodly earth
Which God had framed for happiness, became 855
One theatre of woe, and all that God
Had given to bless free men, these tyrant fiends
His bitterest curses made. Yet for the best
Hath he ordained all things, the All-wise!
For by experience rous'd shall man at length 860
Dash down his Moloch-gods, Samson-like
And burst his fetters—only strong whilst strong
Believed; then in the bottomless abyss
Oppression
