John Lowell (1744–1822)

NO more let ancient times their heroes boast,

Since all their fame in George’s praise is lost;

Not Greece—her Alexanders; Cæsars—Rome

For worth and virtue view our Monarch’s tomb.

Restless ambition dwelt in Cæsar’s mind,

He murder’d nations and enslaved mankind:

He found a gen’rous people great and free,

And gave them tyrants for their liberty.

The glorious Alexander, half divine,

Whose godlike deeds in ancient records shine,

Dropt his divinity at every feast;

And lost the god and hero in the beast.

Shall then our monarch be with these compared,

Or George’s glory with a Cæsar shared:

No—we indignant spurn the unworthy claim:

George shines unrivall’d in the lists of fame:

For while he reign’d, each virtue, every grace

Beam’d from his throne, and sparkled in his face:

While justice, goodness, liberty inspired,

And Britain’s freedom all his conduct fired.

His people’s father was his highest boast;

And in that name was all the sovereign lost.

Justice which left the world since Saturn’s reign,

In him returning blest these realms again;

Even rigid justice with compassion join’d,

Sweetly uniting in his generous mind.

But why should we on separate features dwell,

When the great picture does in each excel?

No single virtues strike us with surprise;

All come united to the admiring eyes.