THE
UNBYASSD PATRIOT
A
POEM
ON
His Grace JAMES Duke of
HAMILTON.
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ALL Men of Renown give Ear,
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Your Country's Glory who mind,
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A Precedent, lo! You have here,
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Who comes no Mortal behind.
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In Trouble, in Toil, and Fatigue,
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For his Country's Honour and Wealth;
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'Gainst Shams, 'gainst Plots and Intrigue.
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A Bumper, Brave Boys, to his Health.
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He wrestles, he strives, he struggles,
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His Country's Right to maintain.
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Court Favours to him are but Bubbles,
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He does not regard them a Pin:
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He does not regard them a Pin Boyes,
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He does not regard them a Pin:
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His Country's Welfare is still his Chief Care,
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And he counts not Court Favours a Pin.
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All Honest Brave Boys give Ear,
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Who stand for their Country's Right;
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Attend to my Song of this Peer,
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Who for You contends with Might.
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By Bribes none can him pervert;
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Nor Threatning make him to swerve:
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But with a True and Gen'rous Heart,
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He glory's his Country to serve.
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He wrestles, he strives, etc.
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All ye who base Slavery abhore,
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and plead for Freedom and Right,
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Fain would this Prince to you Restore,
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What's your just due if he might
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And tho by much power he's o'recome,
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and cannot his aim make good
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None can the Blame Charge upon him,
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Seeing all that was Ill he withstood.
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He wrestles, he strives, etc.
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All you who Religion prefer,
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To Bribes and pitifull pelf,
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Lo here's a Great Prince, who takes care,
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Of you more than for Himself,
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His Zeal for the Church doth appear,
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In pleading for it's Concerns,
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But it's overthrow we may fear,
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When Lordly proud Prelats Governs.
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He wrestles, he strives, etc.
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An Accrostick
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JUst to His Soveraign, to his Country true,
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A Prince whose Merit's known not to a few,
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Meek as a Lamb, yet as a Lyon Bold,
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Ever Renown'd, not to be Brib'd by Gold,
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Surpassing all, that of him can be told,
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DEvote and good, for Property and Right,
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Unskilled in Trick, his Actions fair and bright,
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Keen to Promote the Nation's Wealth and Good
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Earn'stly opposing all who it withstood.
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Of steady purpose and of Counsel Sage,
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Free from Black Vice, the Scandal of th' Age.
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HOnour'd by GOD and Man, this Prince we see,
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Among Great Men few, like his Grace there be,
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'Mongst most of them Self-Interest doth prevail,
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In him not so, the Publick casts the Scale,
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Labour and Toil, his Element doth seem,
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To forward Good Designs, and stop the Stream
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Of Slav'ry, and Oppression's dreadfull power:
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No more I say, but he of Men's the Flow'r.
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