Here you will find thePoemAn Ode, On Reading Mr. Richardson's History Of Sir Charles Grandisonof poet William Cowper
Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,-- Did e'er your idly wasted love Of virtue for her sake remove And lift you from the crowd? Would you the race of glory run, Know, the devout, and they alone, Are equal to the task: The labours of the illustrious course Far other than the unaided force Of human vigour ask, To arm against reputed ill The patient heart too brave to feel The tortures of despair: Nor safer yet high-crested pride, When wealth flows in with every tide To gain admittance there. To rescue from the tyrant?s sword The oppress'd; unseen and unimplored, To cheer the face of woe; From lawless insult to defend An orphan's right?a fallen friend, And a forgiven foe; These, these distinguish from the crowd, And these alone, the great and good, The guardians of mankind; Whose bosoms with these virtues heave, O with what matchless speed they leave The multitude behind! Then ask ye, from what cause on earth Virtues like these derive their birth? Derived from Heaven alone, Full on that favour?d breast they shine, Where faith and resignation join To call the blessing down. Such is that heart:--but while the muse Thy theme, O Richardson, pursues, Her feeble spirits faint; She cannot reach, and would not wrong, The subject for an angel?s song, The hero, and the saint!
