THOMAS CLARKSON, ESQ.
INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD BROUGHAM AND VAUX.
Not to the many doth the earth
Owe what she hath of good,
The many would not stir life's depths,
And could not if they would.
It is some individual mind
That moves the common cause:
To single efforts England owes
Her knowledge, faith, and laws.
Too much by small low interests bound,
We track our selfish way,
Careless if hope to-day still takes
Its tone from yesterday.
We look upon our daily path,
We do not look beyond,
Forgetful of the brotherhood
In nature's mighty bond.
England, how glorious thine estate!
How lovely thine array!
Thou art the throned Island Queen
Whom land and sea obey.
Responsible is power, and owns
The holiest debt on earth—
A strict account it owes that Heaven
From whence it had its birth.
Can such be rendered up by thee?
Does neither guilt nor shame—
Guilt to redress—shame to efface—
Shade thy imperial name?
Thou who dost ask for wealth and rule
Wherever rolls the sea,
O Island Queen! how rests the claim
That millions have on thee.
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