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THE CRISIS. NUMBER XII.
SATURDAY, April 8, 1775.
The PROPHECY of RUIN, A POEM.

Ense velut stricto, quotis Lucilius ardens
Infremuit, rubet auditor cui frigida mens est,
Criminibus, tacite sudant praecordia culpa.
JUVENAL.
Sharp as a sword Lucilius drew his pen,
And struck with panic terror guilty men,
At his just strokes the harden'd wretch would start,
Feel the cold sweat, and tremble at the heart.
SHOULD e'er a Prince the British empire sway
(And I be doom'd by heav'n to see the day)
Who quite unmindful of that glorious state
To which he's rais'd, not by desert, but fate;
Should he be base, be cruel, and unjust,
False to his friends, unworthy of that great trust;
[Page 90] Should he, unmindful of the good that springs
From true royalty, and true partiot Kings;
By oppression (destroying like a flood)
Cause civil war, and fill the land with blood;
Should he rebel 'gainst freedom, law, and right,
And laugh at truths which honest men should write
With fair intent, write with no other view,
But to save him, and save their country too;
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
War with vill'ny, and stamp the tyrants crimes,
That he might live and stink to after times,
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the third we boast the best of Kings.
Curs'd be the wretch who would support a plan;
Which must destroy the natural rights of man;
Perish the wretch, who unconcern'd would see
The laws destroy'd, a falling monarchy;
I could not, I am of another breed,
I ne'er should tamely see my country bleed,
Nor crouch to him, to truth and justice dead,
Or fawning compliment an empty head;
Let subtle knaves, to candour less inclin'd,
Disguise the truth, I'd always speak my mind;
Perish the thought, the crime should ne'er be mine
To sacrifice at curst ambition's shrine,
The right to speak, and publicly display
In all it's hideous forms despotic sway;
I ne'er should understand those prudent rules,
Decorum call'd by parasites and fools;
Discretion too should with decorum fall,
I ne'er should be what rascals decent call;
Resentment should to injuries be shewn,
The people by the language too be known,
'Tis servile wretches who are decent thought,
Such as are sold, and those that would be bought:
[Page 91] When freedom calls, none should from danger start,
But take a noble, a decisive part;
I'd in the cause of freedom firmly stand,
And dare the stroke, e'en of that tyrant's hand,
Confed'rate villains, and their pow'r defy,
Born free like my forefathers, I would die
In that great cause, which is the cause of all,
Or free I'd live, or glory should I fall:
While truth and justice did my lines support,
I'd fear no King, nor minion of that court;
Nor King, nor minister, should then escape,
But share alike the injur'd people's hate;
Tho' minions talk'd, and lawyers set about
To find the libel, and the author out:
Tho' one should stare, another rascal cry,
"'Tis treason all, the author ought to die."
I'd laugh at them, nor care what they could do,
In honest rhime, each villain would pursue,
Should such a Prince succeed to England's throne,
Tho' born a Briton, they must blush to own;
Should he keep foes of freedom, and of law,
Such foes as keep true royalty in awe;
Pervert fair justice from her even course,
And know no law, except the law of force;
Should he keep such as these close to his breast,
(Striving the scepter from his hand to wrest)
Should he keep such, and of the Stuart race,
Who made this empire tremble to her base;
Should Scotsmen be prefer'd to Briton's brave,
And none but Scotsmen, or a Scotsman's slave,
Appear at court, and lord it o'er the land,
Keeping all pow'r from the sovereign hand;
Should he see only with a Scotsman's eyes,
Be taught to mock his injur'd Briton's cries;
Coop'd up at court (like sheep shut up in a pen)
Little to read, and less to know of men;
[Page 92] To hear such men, as had no other ends
But to serve him, and be their country's friends,
Call'd disloyal, and rebels made appear,
By base born Scotsmen, always rebels here;
This to believe, believe it as his creed,
And through those traitors make all England bleed.
Coop'd up at court, and there be made a tool,
The greatest slave, as well as greatest fool;
Should England's crown be plac'd on such a head,
What mis'ry must the people then not dread?
Would they not curse the cause, the secret spring,
Whence all this dire oppression came, that King,
Would they not wish, the day which gave him birth
Had ne'er disgrac'd the records of the earth.
Would they not drag those traitors forth to view,
Who, foes to him, sought England's ruin too,
And make them answer for such horrid crimes,
Which all their race, as well as future times
Should strive to equal, or exceed in vain,
Crimes, that would leave a long, a lasting stain
Upon the land, worse than the Stuarts; who,
Born slaves, tried to make slaves of freemen too,
Who bound in chains both liberty and law,
Quite friendless then, but heaven sent Nassau;
He 'gainst slavery made a glorious stand,
And broke those chains, which had disgrac'd the land;
With tenfold terror hurl'd his vengeance down,
And drove a slave and tyrant from the crown,
Founded the throne in justice, truth, and right,
And rescu'd freedom from the shades of night,
Drove superstition, with her bigot crew,
Far from this land (James he run with her too)
Drove persecution to her seat in Rome,
While tyrants wept at slav'ry's bloody toomb;
[Page 93] Restor'd to Britain all the rights of man,
First fixed by heaven, on wisdom's sacred plan.
Such deeds as theirs wou'd fire my soul with rage,
And make me e'en, against my safety wage
War with vill'ny and stamp their horrid crimes,
That each might live, and stink to after times.
Would make me call forth ancient British rage
To just revenge, or mark the coward age.
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the third, we boast the best of Kings.
Should such a King succeed to England's throne,
Tho' born a Briton, they must blush to own.
Should he succeed, when France and Spain are leagu'd
To shake the state, and make the nation bleed;
When France and Spain by compact shall engage
To ruin us, with war's destructive rage,
When heaven sees the lives unjustly slain,
By restless France, join'd with ambitious Spain;
Sees England bleed, her blood unjustly shed,
And burl's down vengeance on each guilty head;
Bids England's arms pull lawless power down,
And with her conquests shake each tyrant's crown:
Should he succeed, when England rais'd above
All former times, and wisdom join'd with love,
In council sits, makes paltry factions cease,
And tho' at war, yet all at home is peace;
Whilst England keeps one half the world in awe,
And by her pow'r, can give the other law;
When each new day crowns Britons with success,
And heaven seems all Chatham's plans to bless;
Should he succeed, when war in dread alarms,
Calls forth the nation's wisdom and her arms,
[Page 94] Calls forth resentment from the British throne,
To make her vengeance, and her power known;
Should he succeed, and roll supine in state,
And leave her glory and renown to fate,
Would be a crime that heav'n could not forgive,
To blast his name, and make his memory live;
Live with recorded villains to that day,
When time shall cease, and all the world decay;
Should he to make this crime still worse appear,
Turn out a minister to England dear,
Who'd rais'd his country, from a sinking state,
By wisdom only, not by chance or fate,
To power and strength, not known in days of yore,
Known only then, and to be known no more;
At his command, like that great patriot Pitt,
Makes France to yield, and Spain, tho' proud, sub­mit;
Makes British valour, with just vengeance hurl'd,
Strike terror through each nation of the world;
Should he be (through a Scotsman's base design)
Forc'd from his office, or made to resign,
And that same Scotsman of the Stuart race,
Mount in his seat, the nation's foul disgrace,
False to his King, give up those conquests won,
And fix in strength, both France and Spain undone;
Should he make war, defensive war to cease,
On terms inglorious, by a shameful peace,
A peace which must from foul corruption spring,
Thro' that base Scotsman, but still baser King;
Dead to all sense of England's future good,
To sacrifice her treasure, and her blood.
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
[Page 95] War with vill'ny, and stamp their horrid crimes,
That each might live and stink to after times.
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the third, we boast the best of Kings.
Should such a King succeed to England's throne,
Tho' born a Briton, they must blush to own.
Should he, when by Scots arts, by bribes, and fraud,
A peace most infamous is made abroad;
And, for distinction sake, at Fontainbleau,
The curse of England and of Scotland too;
Should he, pursuing still the path of shame,
Give up all pow'r, reserving but the name
Of King, let rebel Scotsmen steer the helm
Of State, and sow fell discord in the realm,
Make tax on tax (while England curst with peace)
Each year arise, each year to say increase;
Each year call loud, aloud for new supplies,
While ruin did with double horror rise;
Should he, when such oppressions from those men
Call'd forth some Wilkes (a Wilkes may be again,
Be sent by heaven, his country to bless,
To rescue England from each deep distress;
Call'd forth some Wilkes, in honor to oppose
Their measures, and their subtle arts expose;
To shew the people ev'ry base design,
Their schemes to thwart, their plans to under­mine;
To speak such truths, as some would fear to think,
And shew the gulph where Englishmen must sink;
Sink and remain, till time would be no more,
In the damn'd gulph of arbitrary power;
[Page 96] Thus to stand forth, and only with this view,
To save his country, and her freedom too;
To sound the alarm of danger in her ear,
Call forth her rage, and shew what she should fear,
Make traitors tremble at the strokes he gave,
Tremble and fear the nation to enslave;
To brand those villains with just marks of shame,
That each might live, live with a blasted name;
Thus to stand forth, with these, these noble sting,
All danger to defy, and bribes refuse;
Would well deserve (altho' some truths might sting)
Both favor and protection from that King;
Should he (weak Prince, a surer hate to gain,
And make the people daily curse his reign)
Dead to all sense of honor and of truth,
The friend of slav'ry in his early youth,
Drunk with prerogative, a Scotsman's tool,
In meanness bred, fond of despotic rule;
Should he in rage exert a lawless pow'r,
And order him, close prisoner in the tower;
His friends refuse admittance to his room,
And cruel persecution be his doom,
Immur'd within those walls for life must be,
Unless a Pratt should rise and set him free;
Yet in such times, and he once more at large,
Some Scotch Chief-Justice may renew the charge;
Tyrannic pow'r, not willing to retrench,
And send him, for two years, to the King's Bench;
The people then would surely flock to see
Fair freedom's friend, the friend of liberty;
To shew their love, with well deserv'd applause,
To him, who tried to save their charter'd laws.
A Secretary ready to fulfil
The bloody mandates of a tyrant's will,
[Page 97] Might send the cruel Scots, their swords to wield,
To gain fresh laurels in St. George's field;
Should e'er the English by the Scots be slain,
In such a cause, a tyrant's love to gain,
And I be doom'd, by heav'n, to see the day
Some future year, and on the tenth of May;
Should then a youth, through villainy decreed
To fall by Scotsmen, there be massacred,
Whom, for distinction sake, I'll Allen call,
Pursu'd, and in his father's house to fall,
An only son, and all his father's care,
His greatest hope as well as only heir;
To see that father sunk in deep distress,
Supplicate the throne, begging for redress,
Calling for justice, distracted, undone,
Justice against the murderers of his son;
This refus'd, the murderers too be paid
A price for blood, and from that King have aid;
A jury pack'd, a judge most ready too,
Obey that court, and all its rotten crew,
Against justice, law, and truth (cursed deed!)
To hear him say, "The English ought to bleed,
"I have it in commission from the King,
"That not one Scotsman, while he reigns, shall "swing;
"The Scots were sent, the King he thus had will'd
"They should have butcher'd more, nay thousands kill'd;
'There can no crime unto their charge be laid,
"But by the King, whom they have not obey'd;
"For by the world, this should be understood,
"'Twas his design to fill the fields with blood."
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
[Page 98] War with villainy, and stamp these monsters crimes,
That each might live, and stink to after times;
Would make me, if I had a hand to write,
Paint these foul deeds, dark as the shades of night;
Would make me call forth ancient British rage,
To just revenge, or mark the coward age.
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the Third, we boast the best of Kings.
Should such a King succeed to England's throne,
Tho' born a Briton, they must blush to own.
Should he, in meanness bred, laugh at all law,
The senate keep, by bribes and fraud, in awe;
That Parliament to royal mandates true,
Shall ruin England and her freedom too;
Intestine war shall be at Brentford laid,
To which that King shall give his utmost aid;
A war 'gainst truth and honor, horrid deed!
To root up freedom, and make virtue bleed,
To stab the constitution's very soul,
That right destroy, which now supports the whole;
Elections right, that firm, that great support,
'Gainst venal statesmen, and a slavish court;
Yet none should suffer for such mighty guilt,
Nor all the blood which might that day be spilt;
Altho' by hir'd villains some should be slain,
The villains tri'd, condemn'd, 'twou'd be in vain,
In vain the nation should for justice call,
A pardon would be sent from Surgeon's Hall;
That King should laugh, his minions should laugh too,
To think each day they butcher'd one or two.
[Page 99]
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
War with vill'ny, and stamp that tyrant's crimes,
That he might live, and stink to after times.
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the Third, we boast the best of Kings.
Should such a King succeed to England's throne,
Tho' born a Briton, they must blush to own.
He would from France, to shameful insults yield,
And be afraid the British sword to wield;
Our cannon France shall neither fear nor dread,
When known to her, a patriot King was dead;
And he who reign'd, a scripture rule did know,
To strike him once, would turn for t'other blow;
The terror of our fleets should be no more,
Nor carry thunder to a foreign shore;
But piece by piece be left to rot away,
With British glory, moulder and decay;
The insulting Spaniard, unchastis'd, shall dare
To seize a ship, and off her rudder tear;
While England, neither dreaded, nor ador'd,
Stains with her pen the lustre of her sword;
In cowardice gives up her rightful claim,
And blasts at once her honor and her name;
Curst be the time, the day, when that is told,
That England's empire of the sea is sold.
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
[Page 100] War with vill'ny, and stamp that tyrant's crimes,
That he might live, and stink to after times.
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the Third, we boast the best of Kings.
Should such a King succeed to England's throne,
Tho' born a Briton, they must blush to own.
Should he, in meanness bred, laugh at all law,
The senate keep by bribes, and fraud in awe;
That Parliament to loyal mandates true,
With England's ruin, shall fix Boston's too;
Her charters shall destroy, her rights invade,
Her commerce ruin, and the town blockade;
Shall fill that place, with men by slaughter fed,
To rob the starving people of their bread;
And fix by force some curst oppressive laws,
Made through Scots villainy, without a cause;
In base compliance with that tyrant's will,
Her freedom to destroy, or blood to spill;
And step by step, most infamous design,
Thus the whole constitution undermine;
First take from Boston all the rights we gave,
Make each American a Scotsman's slave;
And next in chains the English shall be bound,
By that same King, in whom no truth they found;
Should I then live, I'd rather league with hell,
Or rise in arms, and 'gainst that King rebel
Than be his slave, by all that's just and good,
I'd rather see my children roll in blood.
Such deeds as these would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
[Page 101] War with villainy, and stamp that tyrant's crimes,
That he might live and stink to after times;
Would make me call forth ancient British rage,
To just revenge, or mark the coward age.
Thrice happy now, when ev'ry blessing springs,
From George the Third, we boast the best of Kings.
Should such a King succeed to England's throne,
The nation must, with dire oppression, groan.
Should he, in meanness bred, laugh at all law;
The senate keep, by bribes and fraud, in awe;
That Parliament to royal mandates true,
With freedom, shall subvert religion too;
The Lords and Bishops shall that senate join,
And with the state the church shall undermine;
The Protestant faith, which for ages stood
On truth's firm base, bought with a sea of blood;
Shall be destroy'd, and at that tyrants call
The laws of God shall into ruins fall;
The English then, to Catholics must bow,
And worship idols, as they do God now;
Or else submit to persecution's rod,
Be burnt alive, for owning of their God,
With shirt well pitch'd, to give a shocking light,
And Smithfield once more blaze, at dead of night;
Then as before, with hell they may conspire
To set our churches, and the town on fire;
The pious King, at pious priest's command,
May make crusado's to the Holy-Land,
Thro' dangerous seas, to find the blessed spring
Of holy water, to which the Pope shall bring
Him safe, purge, absolve him from his crimes,
As Popes absolv'd our Kings in former times,
[Page 102] And made them devils on the British throne
They reign'd in blood, and hell was all their own.
And Bishops then e'en Satan shall out vie,
To please that King will give their God the lie,
But still they'll have a sure and certain hope,
And find at last a Saviour in the Pope,
And no distinction could a Scotsman bring
'Twixt Devil, Bishops, Pope, and such a King;
So far alike (none should disbelieve)
Their aim the same to ruin and deceive,
By oaths nor conscience neither would be bound,
Could worse on earth, or worse in hell be found.
Such deeds as [...]hese would fire my soul with rage,
And make me, e'en against my safety, wage
War with vill'ny, and stamp their [...]rsed [...]rimes,
That each might live and stink to after times;
Would make me call forth ancient British [...]age,
To just revenge, or mark the coward age.
Thrice happy now, when every blessing springs
From George the Third, we boast the best of Kings.
Through that dark gloom one comfort shall appear,
And all the world own I'm a prophet here.
Altho' like crimes of old in Sodom's land
Those might draw vengeance from God's righteous hand,
Yet for time, the authors shall not bleed,
Thro' one just man, who then shall greatly plead;
One Bishop shall be found, and only one,
Then true to man, to God, and Christ his son,
[Page 103] There shall be one, Asaph that one shall sing,
Just to his God, his country and his King.
Should that dread time to England e'er be known,
When such a monarch sits upon the throne,
Her senate brib'd, and only kept for sport,
To aid the bloody measures of a court,
Should that e'er be, a few brave virtuous men,
(A Chatham, Burke, a Glynn, may be again)
May try, with truth and justice on their side,
To stem the torrent of corruption's tide;
Like virtuous Romans they may firmly stand,
With some few more, to save a falling land;
May bravely struggle in their country's cause,
And nobly try to save her charter'd laws;
But try in vain, truth shall not find support,
From rascals brib'd, and by a rotten court;
Should honor rise, by justice call'd to tell
How England bled, and how the Romans fell;
Should virtue honor join, at heaven's call,
To shew that Britons must like Romans fall;
Should they, base villainy drag forth to light,
St. Stephen's troops shall then prepare to fight;
And legions arm, 'gainst truth and virtue's laws,
Will there defend the blackest villain's cause;
And honor, justice, truth, and virtue meet
This fate, shall victims fall at power's feet.
Dread evils th [...] yet they will surely spring
From Lords and Commons, join'd with such a King.
In such [...] time, at freedom's glorious call,
Britons must strike, and make those traitors fall,
A deed which would by ages be admir'd,
A day kept holy, when their souls expir'd;
Then would happier days to Albion be restor'd,
By ancient justice, with her patriot sword.
[Page 104] In such a time would revolution stand
Each Briton's boast, the glory of the land.
But should that time to England once be known,
When foul corruption stinks upon the throne,
And she has Popish Bishops of her own,
When each other the three estates shall join,
By force or fraud, the state to undermine;
When Britons do, and with inglorious ease,
Submit to wrongs, such cursed wrongs as these;
When that shall be (quite dead to heaven's call)
The British empire must in ruins fall.
[To be continued.]

[Price FOUR PENNIES.]

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