Where’er her conquest rolls its sanguine tide,
There, the fair fabric of establish’d law,
There social order, and religious awe,
Sink in the general wreck; indignant there
Honour and Virtue fly the tainted air;
Fly the mild duties of domestic life
That cheer the parent, that endear the wife,
The lingering pangs of kindred grief assuage,
Or soothe the sorrows of declining age.
Nor yet can Hope presage th’ auspicious hour,