A SUDDEN conflict rises from the swell Of a proud slavery met by tenets strained In Liberty's behalf. Fears, true or feigned, Spread through all ranks; and lo! the Sentinel Who loudest rang his pulpit 'larum bell, Stands at the Bar, absolved by female eyes Mingling their glances with grave flatteries Lavished on 'Him'--that England may rebel Against her ancient virtue. HIGH and LOW, Watchwords of Party, on all tongues are rife; 10 As if a Church, though sprung from heaven, must owe To opposites and fierce extremes her life,-- Not to the golden mean, and quiet flow Of truths that soften hatred, temper strife.
