| The People’s Idol got a name, |
| Which prov’d much to his country’s cost. |
| but |
| If we may believe the voice of fame, |
| It afterwards was some how lost. |
|
| TALENTS he had: but for what use design’d? |
| Big bones, perhaps, or horned frogs, to scan; |
| But not t’illuminate a ruler’s mind, |
| Nor meliorate the rugged state of man. |
| For government what pow’rs has he display’d? |
| Were not his patriotic virtues slim, |
| Whose wild caprice the nation oft betray’d, |
| To rove, implicitly, from whim to whim? |
| Then what avails the vivid flash of tho’t, |
| When on unworthy plans and objects lost? |
| What wonders has his boasted genius wrought, |
| But th’injur’d nation’s treasures to exhaust? |
| And what avails fine sense, with all its vaunting? |
| (Whether seen in the coward or the brave,) |
| If common sense and honesty be wanting, |
| For still the man’s the more a fool or knave. |
| A despot’s will may be a nation’s law; |
| But where the rights of man are understood, |
| The people thence, the wisest maxims draw, |
| And rulers must, to gain respect, be good. |
| Wherever Liberty erects her throne, |
| The ill-concerted project she despises, |
| ’Tis common sense gives government its tone; |
| And reprobates Quixotic enterprises. |
| The chieftain’s wiles, true patriots descry; |
| And, weak or wicked systems to efface, |
| Inspect his conduct with an eagle’s eye; |
| And to their origin his motives trace. |
| How then dar’d he, (frail monarch of a day,) |
| To treat our constitution with disdain; |
| And snatch the people’s sacred rights away. |
| To rivet on the curs’d embargo chain? |
| Is that chief magistrate or just or wise, |
| Who, as a stubborn partisan confest, |
| To cringing minions, every gift applies; |
| And tyrant like, from office, spurns the rest? |
| Who gives to honest merit no reward, |
| But still, by bribes of place, spurs party rage, |
| And more to sect, than virtue, pays regard; |
| But marks with infamy the present age. |
| What tho’ his predecessor miss’d the mark, |
| ’Twas a loud call, which caution’d him to hit: |
| It argu’d weakness then to bilge his bark, |
| On the same rock, where he’d seen Adams split. |
| He trade and navigation, scorn’d to know |
| And labour’d their extinction to effect, |
| And to our navy gave a deadly blow, |
| But paid, to paltry gun-boats, all respect. |
| He hating Britain, met in proud disdain |
| The amicable treaty she propos’d; |
| With which (and the conditions all the same.) |
| Administration since, in wisdom, clos’d. |
| Was not he Frenchified thro’ all his soul, |
| With predilections obstinately strong? |
| Did he not crouch to Bonaparte’s controul, |
| And do the States incalculable wrong? |
| Domestic war already breathed disgust; |
| And foreign realms to hostile acts inclin’d: |
| And, while French pride, in dread volcanos burst, |
| He lockt up truth; and juggled congress blind |
| ’Twas thro’ his arts, fierce feuds began to glow; |
| Our states he led to ruin’s awful brink; |
| Who (startled at the dreadful gulf below) |
| Turn’d from the whirlpool, where whole nations sink. |
| But what avail’d him all this dark disguise? |
| And what—all foreign love, or foreign spite, |
| We’ve seen the nation’s injur’d spirit rise; |
| And smother’d truth, burst forth in light. |
| Could shrewd chicanery make a nation bless’d, |
| Could sly intrigue our gratitude command? |
| Could joy or wealth result from truth suppress’d, |
| This would, long since, have been a happy land. |
| May we forever bless the happy day, |
| His ill apply’d authority expir’d; |
| When Madison, of right, assum’d the sway; |
| Whose prudence cannot be too much admir’d. |
| Now government resumes its proper course; |
| Faction dissolves: its adverse parts unite; |
| Oppression has exhausted all its force: |
| Tranquility prevails, and all goes right. |
| Our navy’s now repair’d to guard the coast; |
| We meet respect abroad, and peace at1 home. |
| Of trade unchain’d, and rights restor’d, we boast; |
| And still anticipate more joys to come. |
