January 26, 1769. No. 213.

The following Sentiments of an Englishman, respecting the noble Patriots, cannot but be approved by all who deserve the Name of either Patriots or Englishmen.

Hail Corsica! than whose recorded Name,
None e’er stood fairer in the Rolls of Fame,
Rapt’ at the Sound my Soul new Ardor fires,
Each Thought empassions, and each Strain inspires.
Pity, to injured Honour justly due,                                                            5
Pleads in my Heart and bids me pity you:
For Worth like thine, one honest Wish receive;
’Tis all the Muse and all the Friend can give.
Ye who are Slaves to Pow’r or Drones of Peace,
Ambitious Tools, or Votaries of Ease,                                                    10
If not quite abject, nor quite lost to Shame,
Your Hearts can feel one Particle of Fame,
Stand forth; on Corsica reflect, and see,
Not what you are, but what you ought to be.
The general Good’s their Aim: no slavish Awe                                       15
Marks Man from Man, but Liberty is Law;
No venal Senates public Credit drain,
No King enslav’d by Creatures of his Reign.
Of public Honours Merit is the Test,
And those obtain them who deserve them best.                                      20
In this vile Age, no Virtue now rever’d,
No God-like Patriot Prodigy appear’d,
Till one small Spot, (for in the Almighty’s Book,
The smallest Spot he will not overlook)
Held forth the Wonder, to all Europe’s Shame,                                      25
Produc’d the Man—and Paoli his Name.
Go on immortal Man! the Path pursue,
Mark’d out by Heav’n, and destin’d but for you;
Fix your firm Hope on this,—on this your Trust,
Your Arms must conquer, as your Cause is just.                                    30
By Heav’n! it makes my Life’s best Blood run cold,
Then glow to Madness, when thy Story’s told,—
On those vile Slaves be Heav’n’s choice Thunder hurl’d
Who chain’d themselves, would gladly chain a World.