" Let no remorse invade thy purposed mind, / But to one standard level all mankind."

— Burges, Sir James Bland (1752-1824)

Place of Publication
Printed for G. Wilkie [etc.]
" Let no remorse invade thy purposed mind, / But to one standard level all mankind."
Metaphor in Context
What tho' my sentence doom'd my King to bleed?[1]
Charles gave pretence to justify the deed:
Illegal taxes drain'd the murmuring land,
Indignant Senates heard his harsh command;
Prerogative advanced with dangerous stride,
And grasp'd dominion which the laws denied.
Resistance then was just.--But when the throne
Has fix'd the legal power like it's own,
Has ne'er infringed the rights of free debate,
Or rose despotic o'er a falling State;
How greater far thine art! how worthier praise!
With fostering breath the fainting flame to raise,
To govern crowds obedient to thy call,
And shake St. James's, as I shook Whitehall!
The iron is red hot, strike boldly now,
And tear the circle from the regal brow;
Pluck up each fence which guards the sacred tree,
And nip the bud of blooming Majesty:
Let no remorse invade thy purposed mind,
But to one standard level all mankind.

Fix'd in assurance, and with faction loud,
Inculcate maxims on the gaping crowd[2]
Let dire Court influence in each period roll,
'Till boding terrors rack the hearer's soul.
Swear, you alone your country can redeem,
And clothe with quaint device the glorious theme:
New-fangled modes of eloquence invent,
Where words supply the place of argument.
If wrong your premises, increase the cry
In just proportion to the falsity:
Let abstract propositions stun the ear,
Which strike at once, and free discussion fear;
And truths, self-evident, which stand aloof,
Abhor debate, and dread the touch of proof:
Then argue stoutly, every doubt remove,
And facts unproveable from Pamphlets prove.
Methinks I see Thee, rising in thy place,
Great Demagogue! Epitome of Grace!
Display thy stores of elegance and ease,
Till thrice three hems thy captive voice release:
Made vocal now, it sounds the fearful tale,
And runs thro' every note of faction's scale.
Like his, who erst, with love of glory warm,
Bellowed orations to the gathering storm,
Thy voice grows stronger from opposing sound,
While Order! Hear him! thro' the House resound:
There Gordon reprobates a Popish Court;
Here Luttrell weeps the loss of Milbourne Port;
Burke's Fury blows her horn, shakes Snowdon's base,[3]
And moves old Cader Edris from his place;
Barre and Pitt to swell the concert join,
And Bamber loudly calls his troops to dine;
Laughters, unheard till now, complete the brawl,[4]
Thy obligato voice surmounts them all!
Searching "mind" and 'invad" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.