Christopher Anstey (Кристофер Энсти)

To the Citizens of France

Ye doubtful race! whom apes and foxes bred,
And, drench'd with human gore, a tigress fed!
Mid your sad triumphs o'er your murder'd King,
While waste and death to Belgia's realms you bring;
Whether for love of Liberty, or frogs,
Ye wage foul combat in Hollandia's bogs,
Or grudge her sons their galligaskins wide,
Rich trophies! to your ragged chiefs denied;
Still naked, hungry still, awhile forbear
Your arms, and England's happy kingdom spare:--
If Liberty alone such rage inspires,
Here unremitting blaze her hallow'd fires:
Nor deem that empire harsh, those laws severe,
Where, in both senates, unrestrain'd by fear,
Her patriots dare, in these rebellious times,
To boast your friendships and applaud your crimes.

1. On the Execution of Mr. Coyghley for High Treason
2. From Wealth, from Honours, and from Courts Remov'd
3. With Every Plague That Can Conspire
4. In Promptu
5. Epode

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1713

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