Say, ye apostate and profane, <br />Wretches, who blush not to disdain <br />Allegiance to your God,-- <br />Did e'er your idly wasted love <br />Of virtue for her sake remove <br />And lift you from the crowd? <br /> <br />Would you the race of glory run, <br />Know, the devout, and they alone, <br />Are equal to the task: <br />The labours of the illustrious course <br />Far other than the unaided force <br />Of human vigour ask, <br /> <br />To arm against reputed ill <br />The patient heart too brave to feel <br />The tortures of despair: <br />Nor safer yet high-crested pride, <br />When wealth flows in with every tide <br />To gain admittance there. <br /> <br />To rescue from the tyrant’s sword <br />The oppress'd; unseen and unimplored, <br />To cheer the face of woe; <br />From lawless insult to defend <br />An orphan's right—a fallen friend, <br />And a forgiven foe; <br /> <br />These, these distinguish from the crowd, <br />And these alone, the great and good, <br />The guardians of mankind; <br />Whose bosoms with these virtues heave, <br />O with what matchless speed they leave <br />The multitude behind! <br /> <br />Then ask ye, from what cause on earth <br />Virtues like these derive their birth? <br />Derived from Heaven alone, <br />Full on that favour’d breast they shine, <br />Where faith and resignation join <br />To call the blessing down. <br /> <br />Such is that heart:--but while the muse <br />Thy theme, O Richardson, pursues, <br />Her feeble spirits faint; <br />She cannot reach, and would not wrong, <br />The subject for an angel’s song, <br />The hero, and the saint!<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-ode-on-reading-mr-richardson-s-history-of-sir-charles-grandison/
