[Editor: A poem by Michael Massey Robinson, published in The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser, 19 January 1811.]
Ode
For the Queen’s Birth Day, 1811.
By Mr. M. Robinson.
OH, ALBION! if against thy Shores
The angry War-Whoop wildly roars;
If Discord,by Ambiton hurl’d,
Still agitates the WESTERN WORLD;
If yon Usurper’s recreant Slaves
Bid human Carnage glut the purple Waves!
In vain their mimic Hosts combine,
For ARTS and COMMERCE still are thine;
And still thy Floating Bulwarks ride,
Tremendous o’er the briny Tide.
Still FREEDOM guards her fav’rite Isle,
And thy rich Plains with PLENTY smile;
Still SCIENCE boasts her Academic Bow’rs,
Where Classic Fancy culls her fairest Flowers!
Still round thy Heroes’ graceful Brows are seen.
Thy native Oak, with Laurels ever green;
And still the Muses, on this hallow’d Day,
Strike the fond Lyre — and pour the grateful Lay.
Nor, on thy envied Shores alone
Shall FAME her Silver Trumpet sound:—
Where’er a Briton’s Name is known,
Echo shall waft the Strain around;
And many a distant Land and Clime
Shall consecrate the fav’rite Lay;
To CHARLOTTE swell the Note sublime,
And greet with Pride HER NATAL DAY.
Zephyr! on thy balmy Wing,
Bear the earliest Gifts of Spring:—
Summer’s Sweets, from fragrant Vales,
Perfum’d like Arabia’s Gales;—
Autumn’s purple Tints combining,
Blooming Wreaths and Chaplets twining.
Lo! Nature wears a livelier Green,
To hail Augusta’s peerless Queen;
And welcomes thro’ the gladden’d Earth,
The Morn that gave TRANSCENDANT VIRTUE Birth.
Oh! Pow’r Supreme! Whilst thy benignant Hand
Dispenses Blessings o’er this grateful Land,
Bids cultur’d Hills and waving Vallies smile,
Rewards fair Industry, and sweetens Toil,
Bids rising Genius bend to Wisdom sage,
Whilst Learning opens her instructive Page,
May Reason muse – – – – and, in the solemn Pause,
Indulge a Sigh in suff’ring Nature’s Cause.
— Not with presumptuous Thought thy Pow’rs to scan,
But urg’d by Kindred Ties from Man to Man;—
With sympathetic Energy retrace,
The lorn Condition of yon sable Race,
For Ages doom’d in Indolence to roam,
The Rocks their Refuge, and the Wilds their Home!
Lost to each social Interchange of Thought,
Their Youth neglected, and their Age untaught,
Unless with barb’rous Yell to wound the Ear,
And with grim Antick hurl the trembling Spear;
Unless the FINNY Victims to beguile,
And snatch Subsistence from the scanty Spoil!
Hap’ly, whilst calm Religion’s genuine Voice
In other Climes bids other Tribes rejoice,
Pours into darken’d Minds her lucid Rays,
And bids the wondering Savage live to Praise,
’Ere many circling Years have onward roll’d,
May call these Wand’rers to the “promis’d Fold;”
And from the Dawn of Reason’s genial Ray,
Bid their Night yield — to intellectual Day.
Be such a Briton’s Care, a Briton’s Pride,
Nature the Precept, and fair Truth the Guide.
And THOU! whose firm and philanthropic Mind
Glows with warm Sympathy to all Mankind, —
To whom a grateful PEOPLE fondly bend,
At once their CHIEF, their PATRON, and their FRIEND!
THINE be the Triumph in progressive Days,
To claim for Deeds like these, a NATION’S PRAISE!
Source:
The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (Sydney, NSW), 19 January 1811, p. 2
Editor’s notes:
Spelling retained as in the original text:
antick (antic)
vallies (valleys)
Leave a Reply