]
[Footnote 2: The Birmingham Fire Office, the three Canals, &c.]
LINES
_Written by the late John Morfitt, Esq. Barrister._
Illustrious offspring of vulcanic toil!
Pride of the country! glory of the isle!
Europe's grand toy-shop! art's exhaustless mine!
These, and more titles, Birmingham, are thine.
From jealous fears, from charter'd fetters free,
Desponding genius finds a friend in thee:
Thy soul, as lib'ral as the breath of spring,
Cheers his faint heart, and plumes his flagging wing.
'Tis thine, with plastic hand, to mould the mass,
Of ductile silver, and resplendant brass;
'Tis thine, with sooty finger to produce
Unnumber'd forms, for ornament and use.
Hark! what a sound!--art's pond'rous fabric reels,
Beneath machinery's ten thousand wheels;
Loud falls the stamp, the whirling lathes resound,
And engines heave, while hammers clatter round:
What labour forges, patient art refines,
Till bright as dazz'ling day metallic beauty shines.
Thy swords, elastic, arm our hero's hands;
Thy musquets thunder in remotest lands;
Thy sparkling buttons distant courts emblaze;
Thy polish'd steel emits the diamond's rays;
Paper, beneath thy magic hand assumes
A mirror brightness, and with beauty blooms.
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