The Tribute: A Panegyrical Poem

YES—BRITONS BOAST! in these dark times to know A man whose Virtue gilds the world below; And, like the glory of the Northern star, Is known, admired and gazed at from afar; Who though he shines so high above his kind, Is Polar light to Peasantry and Hind; And yet his county, to her lasting shame, No Bard has roused to eulogize his name; To paint the Virtues in a mortal shrine, And point the gem by its refulgent shine. So be it mine to touch the sounding string, The FRIEND; the PATRIOT; and the MAN to sing. O could I reach the famed Apollo’s lyre; I’d chaunt his praises with a Poets fire; But if unequal to such lofty flights, My subject warms me, and my task delights; And though unused to raise the tuneful song, The MIGHTY THEME shall make my numbers strong; Bright TRUTH shall guide me, like the solar rays, Illume my darkness and direct my praise! Inspire each thought, and breathe in ev’ry line, And grace my Eulogy with rays divine; And, while I paint the scene, the fact recite, Still burst upon me in a blaze of light.

Wake then my MUSE the gen’rous trump of fame, And let her clarion laud the Patriot’s name; Whose glorious actions well deserve the lay, In deathless strains his merits to pourtray; Who, while he makes his much loved HOLKHAM smile, Exalts the glory of our Sea girt Isle. What though short lived, my tribute I will bring, And add my feather to the Eagle’s wing; Upon his pinions striving, thus to climb, Upborne awhile along the stream of time, And tho’ my garland may fall off, his plumes A grateful Muse her transient song presumes.

See the great FARMER at his rural seat, When cares of state admit of his retreat; Within his noble hospitable dome, The Prince as well as Peasant finds a home; Born for the world and for his race designed, His Godlike bounty flows for all mankind; Receives the Stranger, as a welcome guest, Who while he tarries, feels no wish unbless’d; The Patriot there with gay and cheerful heart, Mid’ all his greatness has the happy art, To set each timid visitor at ease, By courteous manners ever apt to please; Where, open as his hand, th’expanding door, Receives the wealthy where he feeds the poor; Where none are seen to sorrow or complain; Within the circle of his wide domain, Abundance reigns; and comfort sweetly flows; And, like the shadow, follows where he goes: No discontent is felt when he is nigh, And anxious cares before his presence fly; The faithful hind rejoicing in his smile, With cheerful industry pursues his toil; The gen’rous rustic glories in his sight, Who makes his heavy burden weigh more light; And feels exalted and rejoiced to find; The best of masters of the human kind; Proud of his kindred, then he seems to scan, His inbred worth, and deems himself a man.

O if the man who makes a single blade, Lift its green head above the parched glade; Where never verdure did before appear, Deserves the plaudits of the world to hear; What shall we say of him whose arts contrive, To make whole fields of smiling herbage thrive; Who turns the moor, into a fertile vale, Where flocks and herds inhale the vernal gale; Congeals the sand upon the northern breeze And decorates the waste with shrubs and trees: Such worth as this should like the sunbeams blaze, And sculptur’d marbles speak to sing his praise; Fame raise him pillars in each land and clime, And Poets praise him in the song sublime; The deathless laurel round his temples twine, And his immortal wreath untarnish’d shine.

On lib’ral terms his Tenants are posses’d; Their contracts made, they feel themselves at rest; Their tenures permanent, at easy rents, None make a bargain which he e’er repents; But once engaged, he finds his contract please; Assured of independence, peace and ease. The honor’d Landlord thus his rights maintains, And like a Father o’er his Children reigns; His reign is arbitrary ’tis confess’d, Because he gains possession of the breast; And wins the affections, of the gen’rous hind, By noble dealings and by actions kind; Who tho’ he spurns the mean desire of pelf, Enriching others meets reward himself. Of him ye Landlords learn the only way, To make your Acres your high hopes repay; And know that only by a lasting lease, Your lands ye can improve, your wealth increase; See this plain truth, clear as the solar ray, In COKE’S large rental, swelling ev’ry day; Turn but your eyes to HOLKHAM’S fertile plain, And see it proved in ev’ry joyous swain; Behold how riches, in a Patriot’s hand, Diffuse abundance thro’ a steril land; And view how wealth, when properly applied, Scatters her golden lustre far and wide. Within the narrow space of fifty years; How Nature’s rugged face improv’d appears; Where scarce a sheep cot rais’d its shelt’ring head, To screen the Shepherd as his flocks he fed; Now graceful mansions glad the Traveller’s eyes, And socialize the hills on which they rise; Where here and there a dome of antique taste, Made solitude appear amid the waste; Now ornamental buildings grace the spot, And population cheers the humble cot: Where not a briar would rise to deck the heath, Nor wild flower bloom to paint a May day wreath; Now cooling groves and flowery sweets are seen, To form a landscape mid’ the varied scene; Within whose sylvan shades we see reside, In ease, content, and independent pride; The NORFOLK YEOMEN rearing Heroes brave, To guard BRITANNIA while she rules the wave; Just such a Peasantry in heart and nerve, As England’s Genius glories to preserve.

Amid the fruitful hills and smiling vales, Each grateful Tenant, his loved Landlord hails; Whose spacious mansion tow’ring to the skies, Central we see majestically rise; Around whose bright demesnes, a happy race Of wealthy Farmers share the fertile space; And while they feel his favours grateful glow, Though from his streams their smaller streamlets flow; In chrystal currents, gliding pure and clear, Through all the country round the swains to cheer. Though his bright beams, just like the orb of day, The lesser stars eclipses with his ray; It warms, illumes, and gladdens as it shines, Each minor Planet which around him twines While as they circle near their central sun, Illumin’d by his light their course they run; Fed from his flame they own his golden rays, And glisten round him in a silver blaze.

When Heavens indulgence joineth earth to skies, In nice gradations does the chain arise; From beast to man, from man the links extend, Angels to Seraphs rise, and these ascend, In shining orders, unto us unknown, All stretching forward to the Empyrean throne; Yet never destined, in their loftiest flight, To reach the glorious source of life and light. Thus if mens acts with Heavens we may compare, NORFOLK’S GREAT COMMONER his fame would rear; Lifting the poor Plebeian from the dust, The chain extending to a place of trust; The trusty Servant to a Bailiff springs; The Bailiff sinks, a cheerful Farmer sings; The Farmer grows in wealth, wealth has no worth, Until dispers’d among the sons of earth; His Children rise with wealth, they learning gain, And knowledge still extends the golden chain; Wisdom in Virtue ends, and thus he tries To raise a lowly Peasant to the skies; Thus imitating Heaven while here below, Endeavouring so his image fair to show, In pristine beauty, bursting from the clay, As from his makers hand, he sprung to day.

Could such a man then in the shades remain, To cheer the heart and bless the labouring swain? No, worth like his, which Greece or Rome might praise! Wisdom denied this solace of his days; And call’d him forth, to glad the noble band, Of faithful champions for their native land; To BRITAINS SENATE Virtue called her son, And LIBERTY reviving hail’d her own. Just at the crisis of that wasteful war, Which misled Albion proclaim’d afar, Across the Atlantic wave, where Slaughter stood, And dyed the British hand with British blood; Then as the County’s Genius look’d around, To where her worthiest offspring might be found; Soon HOLKHAM’S glitt’ring turrets she discerned, Where in her COKE the heart of CATO burned; There like the good Cincennatus at plough, In olden times, she ’spied her Patriot now; And call’d him thence, to help the ship of state, Where frightful rocks, were frowning big with fate; To guide her safely o’er the threat’ning shoal, And keep her freightage safe, her timbers whole. Then love of Country fired his youthful breast; He flew to save her tho’ by foes oppress’d; The COUNTY roused sustained his cheering voice, And FIFTY SUMMERS have approv’d her choice. Placed in the Senate there he joined the few; Still faithful found among a faithless crew; Their strength augmenting by his Patriot name, Which flew before, the Herald of his fame; Their numbers few in intellect were strong, For PITT and BURKE were in the minor throng; There had they kept, had Virtue ruled their hearts, But pride prevailing tinged their shining parts.