'A 
 
 ^^Mr.' 
 
 Wolcot 
 Odes to Mr. Paine
 
 ^e^rc- 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 i 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 1 k-> 
 
 ODES 
 
 T O 
 
 Mr. P y4 I N E, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 <« RIGHTS OF MANj" 
 
 ON THE INTENDED CELEBRATION OF 
 
 THE DOWNFALL OF THE FRENCH EMPIRE, 
 
 B y A 
 SET OF BRITISH DEMOCRATES, 
 
 On the Fourteenth of J UL T. 
 
 By PETER PINDAR, Esq, 
 
 Aude aliquid brevibus Gyaris, vel carcere dignu?}}. 
 Si vis ejfe aliquis,—— 
 
 Juvenal, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. EVANS, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 M.DCC.XCI. 
 
 [Price One Shilling.]
 
 
 O D E to Mr. PAINE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE RIGHTS OF MA N." 
 
 \J PAINE ! thy vaft endeavour I admire ! 
 How brave the hope to fet a Realm on fire ! — 
 
 Ambition fmiling prais'd thy giant wifli : 
 Compar'd to thee^ the Man, to gain a name, 
 Who to Diana's temple put the flame, 
 
 A fimple Minnow to the Prince of Fish. 
 
 B , Say, 
 
 9^:^.38^
 
 [ 2 ] 
 
 Say, didfl thou fear that Britain was too bleft. 
 
 Of Peace thou mofl: delicious peft ? 
 
 How fhameful that this pin's-head of an Isle, 
 
 Whilft half the Globe's in grief, Tnould wear a fmile ! 
 
 How dares the Wren amidft his hedges fing. 
 
 Whilft Eagles droop the beak, and flag the wing? 
 
 O muft the fey the of Desolation fleep, 
 So keen for carnage, ftay its mighty fweep, 
 
 And Havock on his hunter drop his lafh ; 
 Spurr'd, arm'd, and ripe to ftorin with groans the fky, 
 To chafe an Empire, and enjoy the cry, 
 
 The cry of Millions — what a glorious crajQi I 
 
 What
 
 [ 3 ] 
 What pity thy combuftihles were bad ! 
 How Death had grinn'd delight, and Hell been glad, 
 
 To fee our liberties o'erturning ; 
 And War, whofe expedlation tiptoe flood, 
 Ready for hills of flain, and feas of blood, 
 
 Who drops his death's-head flag, and puts on mourning! 
 
 Why, cur-like, didft thou fneak away, nay fly ? 
 Dread'fl; thou of anger'd Justice the fliarp eye ? 
 
 Return, and bring Mesdames Poissardes along: 
 And lo, with Friendfliip's fqueeze and fire to meet 'em, 
 And oaths of ev'ry hue to greet 'em, 
 
 The fifterhood of Billingfgate fliall throng. 
 
 The
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
 The jails may open all their dreary cells, 
 Where Horror brooding on damnation dwells, 
 
 And vomit forth their grifly bands ; 
 Surrounded by this fquallid hoft, 
 Paine (hall their leader be, and boaft; 
 
 Paine, Gordon, and Rebellion, fhall lliake hands. 
 
 Importance, in a nut-fhell hide thy head ! 
 I deem'd myfelf a dare-devil in rhime, 
 To whifper to a King of modern time, 
 
 And try to ftrike a xo^-A foible dead; 
 
 Whilft dauntlefs thou^ of treafon mak'ft no bones, 
 
 But ftrik'ft at Kings themfehes upon their thrones ! 
 
 ODE
 
 ( 5 ) 
 
 ODE IL 
 
 iriELL hears our pray'r ! — dl is not loft — 
 Behold a chofen i'i:Wj a /6o/?,, 
 
 Stand forth the Champions of the glorious Caufe I 
 The jails are opening ! — hark ! the iron doors ! 
 Chains clank ! — the brazen throat of Tumult roars ; 
 
 And lo, the dcflin'd Victims of the Laws I 
 
 Difgorg'd, they pour in dark'iiing tribes along, 
 And mingle with our Democratic Throng I 
 
 Bedlam.
 
 ( 6 ) 
 
 Bedlam unlocks her melancholy cells ! 
 
 Forth ru£h the Maniacs grim, with joyful yells ; 
 
 They tear their blankets, clap their frenzy'd hands ; 
 They grind their teeth, they dance, they foam, they ftare; 
 They rend with burfts of laughter wild the air ; 
 
 And join, they know not why, our thick'ning bands I' 
 
 Thou Sun, withdraw thy hated day ; 
 
 To ^thiop Darkness yield thy reign ; 
 And hide in clouds, O Moon, thy ray, 
 
 Nor peep upon our fpe£lre fcene ! — 
 Though faint thy folitary light, 
 We feel thy feeble beam too bright. 
 
 Ah I
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 Ah ! Peace, thy triumph now is o'er I 
 
 Thy cheek fo cheerful fmiles no more ; 
 Thine eye with difappointment glooms I 
 
 Our Mufic fhall be Nature's cry ; 
 
 Our ears ihall feaft on Pity's figh— 
 Lo, haggard Death prepares his tombs !— 
 
 Hot with the fafcinating grape, we reel ; 
 
 The full proud fpirit of Rebellion feel !— 
 Son of Sedition, daring Paine, 
 
 Whilft fpeech endues thy treafon tongue. 
 
 Bid the roof ring with damned fong, 
 And Erebus fhall echo back the ftrain. 
 
 SONG,
 
 ( 8 } 
 
 SONG, by Mx, PAINE, 
 
 V>«OME, good fellows all^Confufion's the toafi:, 
 And fuccefs to our excellent Caufe : — 
 
 As we've nothing to lofe, lo, nought can be loft. 
 So, perdition to Monarchs and Laws ! 
 
 France fhows us the way — an example how great ! 
 
 Then, like France, let us ftir up a riot ; 
 May our names be preferv'd by fome damnable feat, 
 
 For what but a wretch would lie quiet ? 
 
 As
 
 ( 9 ) 
 
 As we all are poor rogues, 'tis moft certainly right, 
 At the doors of the rich ones to thunder ; 
 
 Like the thieves who fet fire to a dwelling by night, 
 And come in for a {hare of the plunder. 
 
 Whoever for mifchief invents the beft plan, 
 Beft murders, fets fire, and knocks down, 
 
 The votes of our Club fhall be giv'n to that Man, 
 And Hemlock fliall form him a crown. 
 
 Our Empire has tow'r'd with a luftre too long ; 
 
 Then blot out this wonderful Sun ; 
 Let us arm then at once, and in confidence ftrong 
 
 Complete what dark Gordon begun. 
 
 D But
 
 J 
 
 ( lo ) 
 
 But grant a defeat — we are hang'd, and that's all j 
 A puniftiment light as a feather ; — 
 
 Yet we triumph in death, as we Catilines fall, 
 And go to the Devil together. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 TUB LIBPATIY -, 
 
 UNIVEUSITY OV (MJFORNIl 
 
 LOS ATNc;r:i,v,f>
 
 ^;aoicoij_- 
 
 Odes to Mr, 
 
 U 000 
 
 fi 
 
 BINDERY OCTI 1 H 1QW 
 
 *JC 
 
 178 
 V2W78
 
 
 ,P