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The bubbling brooks in plaintive murmurs roll,

The bird of omen, with incessant scream, To melancholy thoughts awakes the soul,

And lulls the mind to contemplation's dream.

A dreary stillness broods o'er all the vale,

The clouded moon emits a feeble glare ; Joyless I seek the darkling hill and dale,

Where'er I wander sorrow still is there.

THE PROPHECY.*

" When times are at the worst they will certainly mend.'

1.

This truth of old was Sorrow's friend,
“ Times at the worst will surely mend,"
The difficulty's then to know,
How long Oppression's clock can go ;
When Britain's sons may cease to sigh,
And hope that their redemption's nigh.

* The Prophecy is in the style of Swift's minor pieces, and appears to be the genuine effusion of that enthusiastic love of liberty, which, in tumultuous times, generally takes posession of young and sanguine dispositions. - Dr. GREGORY.

II.

When Vice exalted takes the lead,
And Vengeance hangs but by a thread;
Gay peeresses turn'd out o' doors ;
Whoremasters peers, and sons of whores ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

III.

When vile Corruption's brazen face,
At council-board shall take her place,
And lords-commissioners resort,
To welcome her at Britain's court;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

IV.

See Pension's harbour large and clear,
Defended by St. Stephen's pier !
The entrance safe, by Current led,
Tiding round G-'s jetty head ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

V.

When Civil-Power shall snore at ease,
While soldiers fire-to keep the peace ;
When murders sanctuary find,
And petticoats can Justice blind ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

VI.

Commerce o'er Bondage will prevail, Free as the wind, that fills her sail. When she complains of vile restraint, And Power is deaf to her complaint ; Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh, For your redemption draweth nigh.

VII.

When raw projectors shall begin,
Oppression's hedge to keep her in ;
She in disdain will take her flight,
And bid the Gotham fools good night;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

VIII.

When tax is laid, to save debate,
By prudent ministers of state ;
And, what the people did not give,
Is levied by perogative ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

IX.

When Popish bishops dare to claim
Authority, in George's name;
By Treason's hand set up, in spite
Of George's title, William's right ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

X.

When Popish priest a pension draws
From starv'd exchequer, for the cause
Commission'd, proselytes to make
In British realms, for Britain's sake ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

XI.

When snug in power, sly recusants
Make laws for British Protestants ;
And d—g William's Revolution,
As justices claim execution ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

XII.

When soldiers, paid for our defence,
In wanton pride slay innocence ;
Blood from the ground for vengeance reeks,
Till Heaven the inquisition makes ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

XIII.

When at Bute's feet poor Freedom lies,
Mark'd by the priest for sacrifice,
And doom'd a victim for the sins
Of half the outs, and all the ins ;
Look up, ye Britons! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

XIV.

When stewards pass a boot account,
And credit for the gross amount;
Then to replace exhausted store,
Mortgage the land to borrow more ;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

XV.

When scrutineers for private ends,
Against the vote declare their friends ;
Or judge as you stand there alive,
That five is more than forty-five;
Look up, ye Britons ! cease to sigh,
For your redemption draweth nigh.

XVI.

When George shall condescend to hear
The modest suit, the humble prayer ;
A Prince, to purpled pride unknown !
No favourites disgrace the throne !
Look up, ye Britons ! sigh no more,
For your redemption's at the door.

XVII.

When time shall bring your wish about,
Or, seven-years lease, you sold, is out,
No future contract to fulfil,
Your tenants holding at your will;
Raise up your heads ! your right demand !
For your redemption's in your hand.

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