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In vain the prize excites the ploughman's skill,
In vain the Commons pass their patriot bill;[334]
The _Landed Interest_--(you may understand
The phrase much better leaving out the _land_)--
The land self-interest groans from shore to shore, 600
For fear that plenty should attain the poor. [et]
Up, up again, ye rents, exalt your notes,
Or else the Ministry will lose their votes,
And patriotism, so delicately nice,
Her loaves will lower to the market price;[eu]
For ah! "the loaves and fishes," once so high,
Are gone--their oven closed, their ocean dry,[ev]
And nought remains of all the millions spent,
Excepting to grow moderate and content.
They who are not so, _had_ their turn--and turn 610
About still flows from Fortune's equal urn;
Now let their virtue be its own reward,
And share the blessings which themselves prepared.
See these inglorious Cincinnati swarm,
Farmers of war, dictators of the farm;
_Their_ ploughshare was the sword in hireling hands,
_Their_ fields manured by gore of other lands;
Safe in their barns, these Sabine tillers sent
Their brethren out to battle--why? for rent!
Year after year they voted cent. per cent. 620
Blood, sweat, and tear-wrung millions--why? --for rent!
They roared, they dined, they drank, they swore they meant
To die for England--why then live? --for rent!
The peace has made one general malcontent
Of these high-market patriots; war was rent!
Their love of country, millions all mis-spent,
How reconcile? by reconciling rent!
And will they not repay the treasures lent?
No: down with everything, and up with rent!
Their good, ill, health, wealth, joy, or discontent, 630
Being, end, aim, religion--_rent_--_rent_--_rent_!
Thou sold'st thy birthright, Esau! for a mess;
Thou shouldst have gotten more, or eaten less;
Now thou hast swilled thy pottage, thy demands
Are idle; Israel says the bargain stands.
Such, landlords! was your appetite for war,
And gorged with blood, you grumble at a scar!
What! would they spread their earthquake even o'er cash?
And when land crumbles, bid firm paper crash? [335]
So rent may rise, bid Bank and Nation fall, 640
And found on 'Change a _Fundling_ Hospital?
Lo, Mother Church, while all religion writhes,
Like Niobe, weeps o'er her offspring--Tithes;[336]
The Prelates go to--where the Saints have gone,
And proud pluralities subside to one;
Church, state, and faction wrestle in the dark,
Tossed by the deluge in their common ark.
Shorn of her bishops, banks, and dividends,
Another Babel soars--but Britain ends.
And why? to pamper the self-seeking wants, 650
And prop the hill of these agrarian ants.
"Go to these ants, thou sluggard, and be wise;"
Admire their patience through each sacrifice,
Till taught to feel the lesson of their pride,
The price of taxes and of homicide;
Admire their justice, which would fain deny
The debt of nations:--pray _who made it high?