POEMS.
27
That heart, with friendship, love, and feeling fraught;
That world of knowledge, and that depth of thought;
That Truth, Taste, Sense, Simplicity, and Worth. . . . . . .
Oh! and are all these hid in that small heap of Earth?
That world of knowledge, and that depth of thought;
That Truth, Taste, Sense, Simplicity, and Worth. . . . . . .
Oh! and are all these hid in that small heap of Earth?
Weep, Albion, weep! thou wilt not weep alone;
The Globe's four quarters shall repeat thy moan:
For where's the clime, which hath not felt the care
Of Him, whose liberal love all Nature seemed to share?
India[1], whose cause He laboured to uphold,
Whose rights he pleaded, and whose wrongs He told,
Shall feel her breast with fond remembrance swell,
And mourn his loss, who mourned her woes so well.
The Globe's four quarters shall repeat thy moan:
For where's the clime, which hath not felt the care
Of Him, whose liberal love all Nature seemed to share?
India[1], whose cause He laboured to uphold,
Whose rights he pleaded, and whose wrongs He told,
Shall feel her breast with fond remembrance swell,
And mourn his loss, who mourned her woes so well.
- ↑ Hastings' Trial.
