When British Freedom for an happier land
 Spread her broad wings, that flutter'd with affright,
 Erskine! thy voice she heard, and paus'd her flight
Sublime of hope, for dreadless thou didst stand
 (Thy censer glowing with the hallow'd flame)
 A hireless Priest before the insulted shrine,
 And at her altar pour the stream divine
Of unmatch'd eloquence. Therefore thy name
Her sons shall venerate, and cheer thy breast
 With blessings heaven-ward breath'd. And when the doom
 Of Nature bids thee die, beyond the tomb
Thy light shall shine: as sunk beneath the West
Though the great Summer Sun eludes our gaze,
Still burns wide Heaven with his distended blaze.