[177] The text is from the edition of 1815. The interior of Nassau Hall was destroyed by fire March 6, 1802. The damage was promptly repaired by generous contributions from the alumni and friends of the institution. President Smith took an active part in the work of rebuilding and it was in no small measure due to his efforts that the edifice was so quickly restored.
Nassau Hall, the oldest and because of its historical associations the most interesting of the Princeton buildings, was erected in 1756 from plans drawn by Robert Smith and Dr. Shippen of Philadelphia. It was for many years the handsomest and most commodious academic structure in the colonies and as such attracted no little attention. During the Revolution it served repeatedly as barracks and hospital for both armies and suffered considerable damage. From the 26th of June until the 4th of November, 1783, it was the national capitol. Within its walls the Congress of the nation found a safe retreat and for more than four months held quiet session in the spacious library-room remote from the mutinous troops at Philadelphia. Here the Minister from the States General of Holland, the first ambassador accredited to America after the declaration of peace was received, and here the grateful acknowledgments of Congress were tendered Washington for his services in establishing the freedom and independence of the United States.
STANZAS
Published at the Procession to the Tomb of the Patriots
In the Vicinity of the Former Stations of the Prison Ships, at New-York.[178]
Beneath these banks, along this shore,
And underneath the waters, more
Forgotten corpses rest;
More bones by cruelty consigned
To death, than shall be told mankind
To chill the feeling breast:
And underneath the waters, more
Forgotten corpses rest;
More bones by cruelty consigned
To death, than shall be told mankind
To chill the feeling breast:
More bones of those who, dying here
In floating dungeons, anchored near,
A prey to fierce disease,
Than fame in her recording page
Will tell some late enquiring age,
When telling things like these.
In floating dungeons, anchored near,
A prey to fierce disease,
Than fame in her recording page
Will tell some late enquiring age,
When telling things like these.
Ah me! what ills, what sighs, what groans,
What spectre forms, what moving moans,
What woes on woes were found;
When here oppressed, insulted, crossed,
The vigour of the soul was lost
In miseries thickening round.
What spectre forms, what moving moans,
What woes on woes were found;
When here oppressed, insulted, crossed,
The vigour of the soul was lost
In miseries thickening round.
The youths of firm undaunted mind,
To climate nor to coast confined,
All misery taught to bear—
I saw them, as the sail they spread,
I saw them by misfortune led
To capture, and to care.
To climate nor to coast confined,
All misery taught to bear—
I saw them, as the sail they spread,
I saw them by misfortune led
To capture, and to care.
Though night and storms were round them cast,
They climbed the well-supported mast,
And reefed the fluttering sail;
Though thunders roared and lightnings glared,
They toil, nor death, nor danger feared,
They braved the loudest gale.—
They climbed the well-supported mast,
And reefed the fluttering sail;
Though thunders roared and lightnings glared,
They toil, nor death, nor danger feared,
They braved the loudest gale.—
Great Cause, that brought them all their woe:
Thou, Freedom!—bade their spirits glow;
But forced, at last, to yield,
Died in despair each sickening crew:
They vanished from the world—but you,
Columbia, kept the field.
Thou, Freedom!—bade their spirits glow;
But forced, at last, to yield,
Died in despair each sickening crew:
They vanished from the world—but you,
Columbia, kept the field.
They sunk, unpitied, in their bloom,—
They scarcely found a shallow tomb
To hide the naked bones:
For, feeble was the nervous hand
That once could toil, or once command
The force of Neptune's sons.
They scarcely found a shallow tomb
To hide the naked bones:
For, feeble was the nervous hand
That once could toil, or once command
The force of Neptune's sons.
In aid of that immortal cause
Which spurned at England's tyrant laws,
These passed the troubled main;
They dared the seas she called her own,
To meet the ruffians of a throne,
And honour's purpose gain.
Which spurned at England's tyrant laws,
These passed the troubled main;
They dared the seas she called her own,
To meet the ruffians of a throne,
And honour's purpose gain.
All generous—while that power was proved,
To war the brave adventurers moved,
And catched the seaman's art,
Met on their own domain, the crew
Of foreign slaves, that never knew
The independent heart.
To war the brave adventurers moved,
And catched the seaman's art,
Met on their own domain, the crew
Of foreign slaves, that never knew
The independent heart.
Thou, Independence, vast design;
The efforts of the brave were thine,
When doubtful all, and dark;
It was a chaos to explore;
It seemed all sea, without a shore,
Nor on that sea an ark.
The efforts of the brave were thine,
When doubtful all, and dark;
It was a chaos to explore;
It seemed all sea, without a shore,
Nor on that sea an ark.
For You, the young, the firm, the brave,
Too often met an early grave,
Unnoticed and unknown:
On naked shores were seen to lie,
In scorching heats were doomed to die
With agonizing groan.
Too often met an early grave,
Unnoticed and unknown:
On naked shores were seen to lie,
In scorching heats were doomed to die
With agonizing groan.
By strength, or chance, if some survived
Disease, which hosts of life deprived,
That life they should devote,
To venture all in Freedom's cause,
To combat tyrants, and their laws,
So felt near this sad spot.
Disease, which hosts of life deprived,
That life they should devote,
To venture all in Freedom's cause,
To combat tyrants, and their laws,
So felt near this sad spot.
Yes—and the spirit which began,
(We swear by all that's great in man)
That spirit shall go on,
To brighten and illume the mind,
'Till tyrants vanish from mankind
And Tyranny is Done.
(We swear by all that's great in man)
That spirit shall go on,
To brighten and illume the mind,
'Till tyrants vanish from mankind
And Tyranny is Done.
[178] From the edition of 1809.
THE TOMB OF THE PATRIOTS[179][A]
Quae Tiberine, videbis
Funera, cum, tumulum praeter labore recentum! Virg.
Funera, cum, tumulum praeter labore recentum! Virg.
[A] Occasioned by the general procession of many thousands of the citizens of New York on the 26th of May, 1808, to inter the bones and skeletons of american prisoners who perished in the old Jersey, and other prison ships, during the revolutionary war; and which were now first discovered by the wasting of the shores and banks on Long Island, where they had been left.—Freneau's note.
When Philip's son possess'd his native lands
And train'd on grecian fields his grecian bands,
In Thebes subdued, or Athens near her fall,
He saw no honor, or despised it all.
To be reduced to universal sway
The world's vast prospect in perspective lay;—
While yet restricted to Larissa's plain
He cursed his fortune for a lot so mean,
On all his steps the gloom of sadness hung,
And fierce resentment all his bosom stung
That fortune's whim restrain'd to such a floor,
Had done so little, and might do no more.
Mercantile Tyre his laboring mind oppress'd,
The persian throne deprived his soul of rest—
The world his stage, he meant to play his part,
And unsubjected India gall'd his heart!
And train'd on grecian fields his grecian bands,
In Thebes subdued, or Athens near her fall,
He saw no honor, or despised it all.
To be reduced to universal sway
The world's vast prospect in perspective lay;—
While yet restricted to Larissa's plain
He cursed his fortune for a lot so mean,
On all his steps the gloom of sadness hung,
And fierce resentment all his bosom stung
That fortune's whim restrain'd to such a floor,
Had done so little, and might do no more.
Mercantile Tyre his laboring mind oppress'd,
The persian throne deprived his soul of rest—
The world his stage, he meant to play his part,
And unsubjected India gall'd his heart!
Look to the east where Tamerlane display'd
His crescent[B] moons and nations prostrate laid,
March where he would, the world before him bow'd
In conquest mighty, as of conquest proud—
What was the event? let tragic story tell
While sad sensations in the bosom swell—
What were the effects? in every step we trace
The wasteful havoc of a royal race,
Once fertile fields a howling desert made
The town in ashes, or the town decay'd,
Degraded man to native wildness turn'd,
His prospects clouded and his commerce spurn'd—
If such the outset of this mad career
What will the last disgusting scene appear,
Of all he conquer'd, when no more remains
Than vagrant subjects, or unpeopled plains!
His crescent[B] moons and nations prostrate laid,
March where he would, the world before him bow'd
In conquest mighty, as of conquest proud—
What was the event? let tragic story tell
While sad sensations in the bosom swell—
What were the effects? in every step we trace
The wasteful havoc of a royal race,
Once fertile fields a howling desert made
The town in ashes, or the town decay'd,
Degraded man to native wildness turn'd,
His prospects clouded and his commerce spurn'd—
If such the outset of this mad career
What will the last disgusting scene appear,
Of all he conquer'd, when no more remains
Than vagrant subjects, or unpeopled plains!
[B] The three crescent moons in the turkish military standard, which had their origin, it is said, from the asiatic Tartars. Timurbeck (or Tamerlane) was of tartarian extraction.—Freneau's note.
Thus, when ambition prompts the ardent mind,
The soul, eccentric, frantic, unconfined,
To peace a stranger, soars to heights unknown,
And, slighting reason, yields the will to none;
Mere passion rules, degrading powers prevail,
And cool reflection quits the unbalanced scale.
It leaves the haunts of happiness and rest
To float on winds, disorder'd and unblest,
Quits all the calm that nature meant for man
To find some prize, or form the aspiring plan;
That plan ungain'd, the object cheats the view,
Or, if attain'd, they other marks pursue;
Till all is closed in disappointment's shade
And folly wonders at the flight she made:
Ambition's self finds every prospect vain,
The visions vanish, and the glooms remain.
The soul, eccentric, frantic, unconfined,
To peace a stranger, soars to heights unknown,
And, slighting reason, yields the will to none;
Mere passion rules, degrading powers prevail,
And cool reflection quits the unbalanced scale.
It leaves the haunts of happiness and rest
To float on winds, disorder'd and unblest,
Quits all the calm that nature meant for man
To find some prize, or form the aspiring plan;
That plan ungain'd, the object cheats the view,
Or, if attain'd, they other marks pursue;
Till all is closed in disappointment's shade
And folly wonders at the flight she made:
Ambition's self finds every prospect vain,
The visions vanish, and the glooms remain.
And such the vice, with nations as with man,
Such the great failing since the world began:
To power exalted, as to power they rose
By honest toils, and humbling all their foes;
That zenith gain'd, they covet vast domains
And all, that pride from vast possession gains,
Till glittering visions bring the uneasy sigh
And uncontrol'd dominion blasts the eye.
Such the great failing since the world began:
To power exalted, as to power they rose
By honest toils, and humbling all their foes;
That zenith gain'd, they covet vast domains
And all, that pride from vast possession gains,
Till glittering visions bring the uneasy sigh
And uncontrol'd dominion blasts the eye.
Britain! we cite you to our bar, once more;
What but ambition urged you to our shore?—
To abridge our native rights, seven years you strove;
Seven years were ours your arm of death to prove,
To find, that conquest was your sovereign view;
Your aims, to fetter, humble, and subdue,
To seize a soil which not your labor till'd
When the rude native scarcely we repell'd,
When, with unbounded rage, their nations swore
To hurl the out-law'd stranger from their shore,
Or swell the torrent with their thousands slain
No more to approach them, or molest their reign.—
What but ambition urged you to our shore?—
To abridge our native rights, seven years you strove;
Seven years were ours your arm of death to prove,
To find, that conquest was your sovereign view;
Your aims, to fetter, humble, and subdue,
To seize a soil which not your labor till'd
When the rude native scarcely we repell'd,
When, with unbounded rage, their nations swore
To hurl the out-law'd stranger from their shore,
Or swell the torrent with their thousands slain
No more to approach them, or molest their reign.—
What did we ask?—what right but reason owns?
Yet even the mild petition met your frowns.
Submission, only, to a monarch's will
Could calm your rage, or bid your storm be still,
Yet even the mild petition met your frowns.
Submission, only, to a monarch's will
Could calm your rage, or bid your storm be still,
Before our eyes the angry shades appear
Of those, whose relics we this day inter:
They live, they speak, reproach you, and complain
Their lives were shorten'd by your galling chain:
They aim their shafts, directed to your breast,—
Let rage, and fierce resentment tell the rest.
Of those, whose relics we this day inter:
They live, they speak, reproach you, and complain
Their lives were shorten'd by your galling chain:
They aim their shafts, directed to your breast,—
Let rage, and fierce resentment tell the rest.
These coffins, tokens of our last regard,
These mouldering bones your vengeance might have spared.—
If once, in life, they met you on the main,
If to your arms they yielded on the plain,—
Man, once a captive, all respect should claim
That Britain gave, before her days of shame.
How changed their lot! in floating dungeons thrown,
They sigh'd unpitied, and relieved by none:
In want of all that nature's wants demand,
They met destruction from some traitor's hand,
Who treated all with death or poison here,
Or the last groan, with ridicule severe.
These mouldering bones your vengeance might have spared.—
If once, in life, they met you on the main,
If to your arms they yielded on the plain,—
Man, once a captive, all respect should claim
That Britain gave, before her days of shame.
How changed their lot! in floating dungeons thrown,
They sigh'd unpitied, and relieved by none:
In want of all that nature's wants demand,
They met destruction from some traitor's hand,
Who treated all with death or poison here,
Or the last groan, with ridicule severe.
A sickening languor to the soul returns
And kindling passion at the motive spurns:
The murders here, did we at length display
Would more than paint an indian tyrant's sway:
Then hush the theme, and to the dust restore
These, once so wretched near Manhattan's shore,
When tyrants ruled, whose hearts no mercy felt:
In blood they wallow'd as in death they dealt.
And kindling passion at the motive spurns:
The murders here, did we at length display
Would more than paint an indian tyrant's sway:
Then hush the theme, and to the dust restore
These, once so wretched near Manhattan's shore,
When tyrants ruled, whose hearts no mercy felt:
In blood they wallow'd as in death they dealt.
Thou who shalt come, by sad reflection taught,
To seek on Nassau's isle this lonely vault;
Think, when surveying this too gloomy scene,
Think what, had heaven decreed, you might have been.
When, with the rest, you pass'd the weary hour
Chain'd or subjected to some ruffian's power,
Think, as you see the sad procession pass'd,
Think what these are, and you must be at last.—
To seek on Nassau's isle this lonely vault;
Think, when surveying this too gloomy scene,
Think what, had heaven decreed, you might have been.
When, with the rest, you pass'd the weary hour
Chain'd or subjected to some ruffian's power,
Think, as you see the sad procession pass'd,
Think what these are, and you must be at last.—
Learn, as you hope to find your heart's applause,
To love your country and respect her laws;
Revere the sages, who your rights explain'd,
Revere the patriots, who your cause sustain'd.
Your country's Hero, rising to your view,
Attend his precepts, and with care pursue,
He first to shield you, rais'd his powerful arm,
To honor steady as for freedom warm;
When she relumed her half-extinguish'd fire,
Then, not till then, did Washington retire,
And left a light, a radiance to display,
And mark his efforts, when he led the way.
When war's long waste your independence crown'd
And Hudson heard th' invigorating sound!
His was the task; to him the part assign'd
To paralize the vultures of mankind.
To love your country and respect her laws;
Revere the sages, who your rights explain'd,
Revere the patriots, who your cause sustain'd.
Your country's Hero, rising to your view,
Attend his precepts, and with care pursue,
He first to shield you, rais'd his powerful arm,
To honor steady as for freedom warm;
When she relumed her half-extinguish'd fire,
Then, not till then, did Washington retire,
And left a light, a radiance to display,
And mark his efforts, when he led the way.
When war's long waste your independence crown'd
And Hudson heard th' invigorating sound!
His was the task; to him the part assign'd
To paralize the vultures of mankind.
Admit no tyrants, to debase your minds;
Some selfish motive to all tyrants binds;
If robed in ermine or in scarlet clad,
The worst of idiots is a king run mad:
And Rome's worst prince accomplish'd by a word
No more, than by his councils, George the third!
Some selfish motive to all tyrants binds;
If robed in ermine or in scarlet clad,
The worst of idiots is a king run mad:
And Rome's worst prince accomplish'd by a word
No more, than by his councils, George the third!
How oft has rugged nature charged my pen
With gall, to shed it on that worst of men,
Who, dumb to all that reason might decide,
Mankind, their reason, and their prayers defy'd:
Who, firm to all that phrenzy could pursue,
Explored the ancient world, to chain the new;
And tired the despot, search'd each dark recess,
And ransack'd hell, to find the hireling hesse:—
Could he be here, a witness to this day,
With calm delight he would this scene survey,
Would see unmoved, with apathy of mind,
The gaping vault, this havoc of mankind!
Without a tear, these mouldering bones review,
That fell by ruffian hands—employ'd by you.
With gall, to shed it on that worst of men,
Who, dumb to all that reason might decide,
Mankind, their reason, and their prayers defy'd:
Who, firm to all that phrenzy could pursue,
Explored the ancient world, to chain the new;
And tired the despot, search'd each dark recess,
And ransack'd hell, to find the hireling hesse:—
Could he be here, a witness to this day,
With calm delight he would this scene survey,
Would see unmoved, with apathy of mind,
The gaping vault, this havoc of mankind!
Without a tear, these mouldering bones review,
That fell by ruffian hands—employ'd by you.
His phrenzy, rampant with the right divine,
Inspired a nation with a black design,
To blast with poison, like a wizard's spell,
And plant on man the characters of hell!—
Inspired a nation with a black design,
To blast with poison, like a wizard's spell,
And plant on man the characters of hell!—
Thou, who shalt come, of feeling mind possest,
And, heaven's first gift, the patriotic breast,
On this bleak coast, to tread the island plain,
Think, what revenge disgraced a monarch's reign!
Who, not content with wealth and power we gave,
Forgot the subject, to enthral the slave:
Such was his hope;—that hope to realize
He sent his myriads to demand the prize;
What were the splendid trophies he acquired?
Were these bleach'd bones the trophies he admired?
And, heaven's first gift, the patriotic breast,
On this bleak coast, to tread the island plain,
Think, what revenge disgraced a monarch's reign!
Who, not content with wealth and power we gave,
Forgot the subject, to enthral the slave:
Such was his hope;—that hope to realize
He sent his myriads to demand the prize;
What were the splendid trophies he acquired?
Were these bleach'd bones the trophies he admired?
While passion fires, or kindred sorrows fall,
Ask not, if this sequester'd cell is all,
Is all that honors these collected bones?—
Enough is done to stigmatize all thrones:
Ask not, while passion with resentment fires,
Why to the skies no monument aspires?—
Enough is done to rouse the patriot glow
And bid the rising race your feelings know.
Ask not, if this sequester'd cell is all,
Is all that honors these collected bones?—
Enough is done to stigmatize all thrones:
Ask not, while passion with resentment fires,
Why to the skies no monument aspires?—
Enough is done to rouse the patriot glow
And bid the rising race your feelings know.
[179] From the edition of 1815.
ON THE PEAK OF PICO
ONE OF THE AZORES, OR WESTWARD ISLANDS[180]
Attracted to this airy steep
Above the subject hills,
Ocean, from his surrounding deep
The urn of Pico fills.
Above the subject hills,
Ocean, from his surrounding deep
The urn of Pico fills.
Thence gushing streams, unstinted, stray
To glad the mountain's side;
Or, winding through the vallies, gay,
Through fields, and groves, and vineyards glide.
To him the plains their verdure owe
Confessing what your smiles bestow,
Thou Peak of the Azores.
To glad the mountain's side;
Or, winding through the vallies, gay,
Through fields, and groves, and vineyards glide.
To him the plains their verdure owe
Confessing what your smiles bestow,
Thou Peak of the Azores.
From day to day the unwearied sail
Surveys your towering cone,
And when th' adjacent prospects fail,
And neighboring isles no more they hail,
You meet the eye alone.
Twice forty miles the exploring eye
Discerns you o'er the waste,
Now, a blue turret in the sky
When not by mists embraced.
Long may you stand, the friendly mark,
To those who sail afar,
A spot that guides the wandering barque,
A second polar star.
Surveys your towering cone,
And when th' adjacent prospects fail,
And neighboring isles no more they hail,
You meet the eye alone.
Twice forty miles the exploring eye
Discerns you o'er the waste,
Now, a blue turret in the sky
When not by mists embraced.
Long may you stand, the friendly mark,
To those who sail afar,
A spot that guides the wandering barque,
A second polar star.
[180] From the edition of 1815. Freneau sailed for the Madeira Islands May 12, 1803, arriving there on June 23. He was back in Charleston on August 16 following.
A BACCHANALIAN DIALOGUE
Written 1803[181]
Arrived at Madeira, the island of vines,
Where mountains and vallies abound,
Where the sun the wild juice of the cluster refines,
To gladden the magical ground:
Where mountains and vallies abound,
Where the sun the wild juice of the cluster refines,
To gladden the magical ground:
As pensive I stray'd in her elegant shade,
Now halting and now on the move,
Old Bacchus I met, with a crown on his head,
In the darkest recess of a grove.
Now halting and now on the move,
Old Bacchus I met, with a crown on his head,
In the darkest recess of a grove.
I met him with awe, but no symptom of fear
As I roved by his mountains and springs,
When he said with a sneer, "how dare you come here,
You hater of despots and kings?—
As I roved by his mountains and springs,
When he said with a sneer, "how dare you come here,
You hater of despots and kings?—
Do you know that a prince, and a regent renown'd
Presides in this island of wine?
Whose fame on the earth has encircled it round
And spreads from the pole to the line?
Presides in this island of wine?
Whose fame on the earth has encircled it round
And spreads from the pole to the line?
Haste away with your barque: on the foam of the main
To Charleston I bid you repair:
There drink your Jamaica, that maddens the brain;
You shall have no Madeira—I swear."
To Charleston I bid you repair:
There drink your Jamaica, that maddens the brain;
You shall have no Madeira—I swear."
"Dear Bacchus," (I answered) for Bacchus it was
That spoke in this menacing tone:
I knew by the smirk and the flush on his face
It was Bacchus, and Bacchus alone—
That spoke in this menacing tone:
I knew by the smirk and the flush on his face
It was Bacchus, and Bacchus alone—
"Dear Bacchus, (I answered) ah, why so severe?—
Since your nectar abundantly flows,
Allow me one cargo—without it I fear
Some people will soon come to blows:
Since your nectar abundantly flows,
Allow me one cargo—without it I fear
Some people will soon come to blows:
I left them in wrangles, disorder, and strife,
Political feuds were so high,
I was sick of their quarrels, and sick of my life,
And almost requested to die."
Political feuds were so high,
I was sick of their quarrels, and sick of my life,
And almost requested to die."
The deity smiling, replied, "I relent:—
For the sake of your coming so far,
Here, taste of my choicest—go, tell them repent,
And cease their political war.
For the sake of your coming so far,
Here, taste of my choicest—go, tell them repent,
And cease their political war.
With the cargo I send, you may say, I intend
To hush them to peace and repose;
With this present of mine, on the wings of the wind
You shall travel, and tell them, here goes
To hush them to peace and repose;
With this present of mine, on the wings of the wind
You shall travel, and tell them, here goes
A health to old Bacchus! who sends them the best
Of the nectar his island affords,
The soul of the feast and the joy of the guest,
Too good for your monarchs and lords.
Of the nectar his island affords,
The soul of the feast and the joy of the guest,
Too good for your monarchs and lords.
No rivals have I in this insular waste,
Alone will I govern the isle
With a king at my feet, and a court to my taste,
And all in the popular style.
Alone will I govern the isle
With a king at my feet, and a court to my taste,
And all in the popular style.
But a spirit there is in the order of things,
To me it is perfectly plain,
That will strike at the scepters of despots and kings,
And only king Bacchus remain."
To me it is perfectly plain,
That will strike at the scepters of despots and kings,
And only king Bacchus remain."
[181] From edition of 1815.
STANZAS WRITTEN AT THE ISLAND OF MADEIRA[182]
On the fatal and unprecedented torrents of water which collected from the mountains on the
ninth of October, 1803, and destroyed a considerable part of the city of Funchal,
drowned a vast number of people, and damaged, to a great amount,
several plantations and villages in that neighborhood.
The rude attack, if none will tell,
On Bacchus, in his favorite isle;
If none in verse describe it well,
If none assume a poet's style
These devastations to display;—
Attend me, and perhaps I may.
On Bacchus, in his favorite isle;
If none in verse describe it well,
If none assume a poet's style
These devastations to display;—
Attend me, and perhaps I may.
To those who own the feeling heart
This tragic scene I would present,
No fiction, or the work of art,
Nor merely for the fancy meant:
Twas all a shade, a darken'd scene,
Old Noah's deluge come again!
This tragic scene I would present,
No fiction, or the work of art,
Nor merely for the fancy meant:
Twas all a shade, a darken'd scene,
Old Noah's deluge come again!
From hills beyond the clouds that soar,
The vaults of heaven, the torrents run,
And rushing with resistless power,
Assail'd the island of the sun:
Fond nature saw the blasted vine,
And seem'd to sicken and repine.
The vaults of heaven, the torrents run,
And rushing with resistless power,
Assail'd the island of the sun:
Fond nature saw the blasted vine,
And seem'd to sicken and repine.
As skyward stream'd the electric fire
The heavens emblazed, or wrapt in gloom;
The clouds appear, the clouds retire
And terror said, "the time is come
When all the groves, and hill, and plain
Will sink to ocean's bed again."
The heavens emblazed, or wrapt in gloom;
The clouds appear, the clouds retire
And terror said, "the time is come
When all the groves, and hill, and plain
Will sink to ocean's bed again."
The cheery god, who loves to smile
And gladness to the heart bestows,
Almost resolved to quit his isle,
And in unwonted passion rose;
He sought his caves in wild dismay
And left the heavens to have their way.
And gladness to the heart bestows,
Almost resolved to quit his isle,
And in unwonted passion rose;
He sought his caves in wild dismay
And left the heavens to have their way.
The whistling winds had ceased to blow;
Not one, of all the aerial train—
No gale to aid that night of wo
Disturb'd the slumbers of the main;
In distant woods they silent slept;
Or, in the clouds, the tempest kept.
Not one, of all the aerial train—
No gale to aid that night of wo
Disturb'd the slumbers of the main;
In distant woods they silent slept;
Or, in the clouds, the tempest kept.
The bursting rains in seas descend,
Machico[A] heard the distant roar,
And lightnings, while the heavens they rend,
Show'd ruin marching to the shore:
Egyptian darkness brought her gloom
And fear foreboded nature's doom.
Machico[A] heard the distant roar,
And lightnings, while the heavens they rend,
Show'd ruin marching to the shore:
Egyptian darkness brought her gloom
And fear foreboded nature's doom.
[A] A distant village on the island.—Freneau's note.
The heavens on fire, an ocean's force
Seized forests, vineyards, herds, and men,
And swelling streams from every source
Bade ancient chaos come again:
Through Fonchal's[B] road their courses held
And ocean saw his waves repell'd.
Seized forests, vineyards, herds, and men,
And swelling streams from every source
Bade ancient chaos come again:
Through Fonchal's[B] road their courses held
And ocean saw his waves repell'd.
[B] The capital town of the island.—Ibid.
Ill fated town!—what works of pride
In one short hour were swept away!
Huge piles that time had long defy'd,
In ruthless ruin scatter'd lay:
Some buried in the opening deep—
With crowds dismiss'd to endless sleep,
In one short hour were swept away!
Huge piles that time had long defy'd,
In ruthless ruin scatter'd lay:
Some buried in the opening deep—
With crowds dismiss'd to endless sleep,
From her fond arms the daughter torn,
The mother saw destruction near;
Both on the whirling surge were borne,
Forgetful of the farewell tear:
At distance torn, with feeble cries,
Far from her arms the infant dies.
The mother saw destruction near;
Both on the whirling surge were borne,
Forgetful of the farewell tear:
At distance torn, with feeble cries,
Far from her arms the infant dies.
Her dear delight, her darling boy
In morn of days and dawning bloom,
This opening bud of promised joy
Too early found a watery tomb,
Or floated on the briny waste;
No more beloved, no more embraced.
In morn of days and dawning bloom,
This opening bud of promised joy
Too early found a watery tomb,
Or floated on the briny waste;
No more beloved, no more embraced.
From heights immense, with force unknown,
Enormous rocks and mangled trees
Were headlong hurl'd and hurrying down,
Fix'd their foundation in the seas!
Or, rushing with a mountain's weight,
Hurl'd to the deeps their domes of state.
Enormous rocks and mangled trees
Were headlong hurl'd and hurrying down,
Fix'd their foundation in the seas!
Or, rushing with a mountain's weight,
Hurl'd to the deeps their domes of state.
On heaven intent the affrighted priest
Where church was left, to churches ran,
With suppliant voice the skies addrest,
And wail'd the wickedness of man:
For which he thought, this scourge was meant,
And, weeping, said, repent, repent!
Where church was left, to churches ran,
With suppliant voice the skies addrest,
And wail'd the wickedness of man:
For which he thought, this scourge was meant,
And, weeping, said, repent, repent!
But Santa Clara's lofty walls,
Where pines through life the pious nun,
Whose prison to the mind recalls
What superstition's power has done:
No conquest there the floods essay'd,
Religion guarded man and maid.
Where pines through life the pious nun,
Whose prison to the mind recalls
What superstition's power has done:
No conquest there the floods essay'd,
Religion guarded man and maid.
[C] Nossa Senyora da Montana, a fine church on a high eminence in the mountains.—Freneau's note.
[D] A respectable gentleman of the island.—Ibid.
Who on this valley's drowning bed
Would plan a street, or build again,
Unthinking as the Brazen head[E]
For wretches builds a source of pain,
A church, a street, that soon or late
May share the same, or a worse fate.
Would plan a street, or build again,
Unthinking as the Brazen head[E]
For wretches builds a source of pain,
A church, a street, that soon or late
May share the same, or a worse fate.
[E] A rocky promontory a few miles eastward of the capital.—Ibid.
Let some vast bridge assume their place
Like those the romans raised of old,
With arches, firm as nature's base,
Of architecture grand and bold;
So will the existing race engage
The thanks of a succeeding age.
Like those the romans raised of old,
With arches, firm as nature's base,
Of architecture grand and bold;
So will the existing race engage
The thanks of a succeeding age.
Pontinia[F] long must wear the marks
Of this wide-wasting scene of wo,
Where near the Loo, the tar embarks
When prosperous winds, to waft him, blow:
These ravages may time repair,
But he and I will not be there.
Of this wide-wasting scene of wo,
Where near the Loo, the tar embarks
When prosperous winds, to waft him, blow:
These ravages may time repair,
But he and I will not be there.
[F] The western quarter, near the Loo fort, where is the only eligible place of landing.—Ibid.
General Note.
From the best accounts that could be procured at Madeira, there perished in and near the city of Funchal, five hundred and fifty persons. The ravages were chiefly confined to the eastern parts of the town where the loss was immense in bridges, houses, streets and other property, public as well as private—there was one magnificent church totally destroyed, standing near the sea, and called in the portuguese tongue, Nossa Senyora da Caillou (lady of the beach) besides this, there were five handsome chapels carried away. Five very considerable streets with their immense stone buildings have entirely disappeared, or but some insignificant parts remaining. The water rose in a short space of time from 14 to 16 feet in the adjacent parts of the city, and bursting into the buildings, where it did not much injure the latter, it greatly damaged the merchantile property lodged therein. There were about two hundred persons supposed to be lost in other parts of the island, particularly in the villages, and small towns. The following circumstance it was asserted, added not a little to the devastations occasioned by the accumulation of water in the vallies. The governor, with several other considerable landholders in the mountains, had, for several years back, been in the practice of erecting stone dams across the vast and spacious valley above the city, at different intervals of distance for the purpose of watering the adjacent grounds, or leading off streams in a variety of directions—when the immense body of rain fell in October last, all this gave way, and carried death and destruction therewith.—Freneau's note.
[182] From the edition of 1815. Freneau sailed from Charleston January 25, 1804, and on March 7 he arrived at Madeira. On April 15 he was at Santa Cruz, and on May 11 he sailed for home.
ON THE PEAK OF TENERIFFE
1804[183]
No mean, no human artist laid
The base of this prodigious pile,
The towering peak—but nature said
Let this adorn Tenaria's isle;
And be my work for ages found
The polar star to islands round.
The base of this prodigious pile,
The towering peak—but nature said
Let this adorn Tenaria's isle;
And be my work for ages found
The polar star to islands round.
The conic-point that meets the skies
Indebted to volcanic fire,
First from the ocean bid to rise,
To heaven was suffer'd to aspire;
But man, ambitious, did not dare
To plant one habitation there:
Indebted to volcanic fire,
First from the ocean bid to rise,
To heaven was suffer'd to aspire;
But man, ambitious, did not dare
To plant one habitation there:
For torrents from the mountain came;
What molten floods were seen to glow!
Expanded sheets of vivid flame,
To inundate the world below!
These, older than the historian's page
Once bellow'd forth vext nature's rage.
What molten floods were seen to glow!
Expanded sheets of vivid flame,
To inundate the world below!
These, older than the historian's page
Once bellow'd forth vext nature's rage.
In ages past, as may again,
Such lavas from those ridges run.
And hastening to the astonish'd main
Exposed earth's entrails to the sun;
These, barren, once, neglected, dead,
Are now with groves and pastures spread.
Such lavas from those ridges run.
And hastening to the astonish'd main
Exposed earth's entrails to the sun;
These, barren, once, neglected, dead,
Are now with groves and pastures spread.
Upon the verdant, scented lawn
The flowers a thousand sweets disperse,
And pictures, there, by nature drawn,
Inspire some island poet's verse,
While streams through every valley rove
To bless the garden, grace the grove.
The flowers a thousand sweets disperse,
And pictures, there, by nature drawn,
Inspire some island poet's verse,
While streams through every valley rove
To bless the garden, grace the grove.
[A] A lady, and gentlemen of the first respectability, then residing at Santa Cruz, san Christoval de Laguna, and Port Oratava in the island of Teneriffe.—Freneau's note.
[183] From the edition of 1815.
ANSWER TO A CARD OF INVITATION
To visit a nunnery at Garrichica, on the north side of Teneriffe[184]
It came to hand, your friendly card,
No doubt, a token of regard;
But time is short, and I must leave
Your pensive town of Oratave,
And, soon departing, well you know,
Have many a weary mile to go.
No doubt, a token of regard;
But time is short, and I must leave
Your pensive town of Oratave,
And, soon departing, well you know,
Have many a weary mile to go.
Then stay and sip Canary wines,
While I return to oaks and pines,
To rail at kings, or court the muse,
To smoke a pipe, or turn recluse,
To think upon adventures past—
To think of what must come at last—
To drive the quill—and—to be brief,
To think no more of Teneriffe.—
While I return to oaks and pines,
To rail at kings, or court the muse,
To smoke a pipe, or turn recluse,
To think upon adventures past—
To think of what must come at last—
To drive the quill—and—to be brief,
To think no more of Teneriffe.—
How happy you who once a week,
Can storm a fort at Garrichique,
Or talk, familiar with the nuns
Secluded there with Levi's sons;
To see them smile, or hear them prate,
Or chant, and chat behind the grate!
All this is heaven, I half suspect,
And who would such a heaven neglect?
All I can say is what I mean,
May you embrace each Iphigene,
And hug and kiss them all the while,
These fair Calypsoes of the isle:
Then if what Sappho said, be true,
Blest as the immortal gods are you.
Can storm a fort at Garrichique,
Or talk, familiar with the nuns
Secluded there with Levi's sons;
To see them smile, or hear them prate,
Or chant, and chat behind the grate!
All this is heaven, I half suspect,
And who would such a heaven neglect?
All I can say is what I mean,
May you embrace each Iphigene,
And hug and kiss them all the while,
These fair Calypsoes of the isle:
Then if what Sappho said, be true,
Blest as the immortal gods are you.
For me, not favor'd so by fate,
I venture not behind the grate:
There dragons guard the golden fleece,
And nymphs immured find no release:
Forbidden fruit you weekly see,
Forbidden fruit on every tree,
When he who tastes, may look for strife,
Where he who touches ventures life.
The jealous priests, with threatening eye
Look hard at all approaching nigh:
The monks have charge of brittle ware,
The friar bids you have a care;
That they alone the fruit may eat
That fills religion's last retreat:
The mother abbess looks as sour'd
As if you had the fruit devour'd,
And bids the stranger haste away,—
Not rich enough for fruit to pay.
I venture not behind the grate:
There dragons guard the golden fleece,
And nymphs immured find no release:
Forbidden fruit you weekly see,
Forbidden fruit on every tree,
When he who tastes, may look for strife,
Where he who touches ventures life.
The jealous priests, with threatening eye
Look hard at all approaching nigh:
The monks have charge of brittle ware,
The friar bids you have a care;
That they alone the fruit may eat
That fills religion's last retreat:
The mother abbess looks as sour'd
As if you had the fruit devour'd,
And bids the stranger haste away,—
Not rich enough for fruit to pay.
How much unlike, our western fair,
Who breathe the sweets of freedom's air;
Go where they please, do what they will,
Themselves are their own guardians still:—
Then come, and on our distant shore
Some blooming rural nymph adore;
And do not make the day remote,
For time advances, quick as thought,
When thus some grave rebuke will say
When you approach the maiden gay:
'You should have courted in your prime,
'Our Anastasia's, at that time
'When blood ran quick, and Hymen said,
'Colin! my laws must be obey'd.'
Who breathe the sweets of freedom's air;
Go where they please, do what they will,
Themselves are their own guardians still:—
Then come, and on our distant shore
Some blooming rural nymph adore;
And do not make the day remote,
For time advances, quick as thought,
When thus some grave rebuke will say
When you approach the maiden gay:
'You should have courted in your prime,
'Our Anastasia's, at that time
'When blood ran quick, and Hymen said,
'Colin! my laws must be obey'd.'
Your card to slight, I'm much distrest,
Your card has robb'd me of my rest:
Should I attempt the nuns to accost
The priests might growl, and all be lost:
My cash might fail me when to pay;
No chance, perhaps, to run away;—
So, I decline the needless task
Return to Charleston, with the cask
Of wine, you send from Teneriffe,
To glad some hearts, and dry up grief:
Your card has robb'd me of my rest:
Should I attempt the nuns to accost
The priests might growl, and all be lost:
My cash might fail me when to pay;
No chance, perhaps, to run away;—
So, I decline the needless task
Return to Charleston, with the cask
Of wine, you send from Teneriffe,
To glad some hearts, and dry up grief:
I add, some dangerous neighbors here
May disappoint my hopes I fear;
The breakers near the vessel roll;
The lee-ward shore, the rocky shoal!
The whitening seas that constant lave
The craggy strand of Oratave;
The expected gale, the adjacent rock
Each moment threatens all our stock,
And Neptune, in his giant cup
Stands lurking near, to gulp it up.
But here's a health to Neptune's sons
Who man the yard—nor dream of nuns.
May disappoint my hopes I fear;
The breakers near the vessel roll;
The lee-ward shore, the rocky shoal!
The whitening seas that constant lave
The craggy strand of Oratave;
The expected gale, the adjacent rock
Each moment threatens all our stock,
And Neptune, in his giant cup
Stands lurking near, to gulp it up.
But here's a health to Neptune's sons
Who man the yard—nor dream of nuns.