To bar his passage o'er forbidden ground.
Swift o'er all impediments he flew,
And strain'd his eyes to keep the prize in view.
Religion, virtue, sense, to him were nought;
He hated none, yet none employ'd his thought,
Save when he glitter'd in their borrowed beam,
To gain preferment, or to court esteem.
The minister, not tool, of Christiern's will,
He serv'd his measures, yet despis'd him still:
Scann'd with impartial view th'encircling scene,
Glancing o'er all an eye exact and keen,
Advantage to descry; and seldom fail'd,
When Virtue's cause by Fortune's will prevail'd,
On virtue's side his valour to display,
And ne'er forsake it, but for better pay.
And, e'en when Danger round his fenceless head
Her threatening weight of mountain surges spread,
He, like a whale amid the tempest's roar,
Smiled at the storm, nor deign'd to wish it o'er.
'Twas dull instinctive boldness--like a fire
Pent up in earth, whose forces ne'er expire,
By grossest fuel nourished, but immured
In dingy night, shine heavy and obscured;
Sustain'd by this thro' all the scenes of strife,
Whose dark succession form'd his chequer'd life,
He ne'er the soul's sublimer courage felt,
That warms the heart, and teaches it to melt;
That nurses liberty's expanding seeds,
And teems prolific with the noblest deeds.
To guide the storm of battle o'er the plain,