Ferens olentem Mævium," &c.
The ill-fated barque that worthless Arnold bears,—
God of the southern winds, call up the gales,
And whistle in rude fury round his ears.
And may the east wind on a leeward shore
Her cables part while she in tumult rides,
And shatter into shivers every oar.
With such a rage, as when from mountains high
He rends the tall oak with his weighty blast,
And ruin spreads where'er his forces fly.
No moon, attendant, dart one glimmering ray,
Nor may she ride on oceans more serene
Than Greece, triumphant, found that stormy day,
On vanquished Ilium, then in ashes laid,
But turned it on the barque that Ajax[A] bore,
Avenging thus her temple and the maid.
Your groaning ship the southern gales shall tear,
How will your sailors sweat, and you complain
And meanly howl to Jove, that will not hear!
A prey to hungry cormorants you lie,
A wanton goat to every stormy power,[B]
And a fat lamb, in sacrifice, shall die.
[A] Ajax the younger, son of Oileus, king of the Locrians. He debauched Cassandra in the temple of Pallas, which was the cause of his misfortune on his return from the siege of Troy.—Freneau's note.
[B] The Tempests were Goddesses amongst the Romans.—Ib.
[108] First published in the July 10, 1782, issue of the Freeman's Journal, under the title "The 10th Ode Horace's Book of Epodes Imitated. Written in December, 1781, upon the departure of General Arnold from New-York." The poem was reprinted verbatim in the 1786 edition.
"The capitulation at Yorktown having virtually put an end to the war, and Arnold, finding himself neither respected by the British officers nor likely to be further employed in the service, obtained permission from Sir Henry Clinton to go to England. He sailed from New York with his family in December, 1781."—Sparks' Life of Arnold.
PLATO, THE PHILOSOPHER, TO HIS FRIEND THEON[109]
Semel omnibus calcanda via Lethi.—Hor.
Beneath a weight of years and woe,
Thy youth is lost, thy pleasures flown,
And time proclaims, "'Tis time to go."
With me a while, dear friend, repair,[110]
Nor to the vault thy steps refuse,
Thy constant home shall soon be there.
Prepare to bid a long adieu,
Autumnal seasons shall return
And spring shall bloom, but not for you.
To rest upon this darksome road,
'Tis but a thin, a thirsty soil,
A barren and a bleak abode.
These dregs of life are bought too dear,
'Tis better far to die than bear
The torments of another year.[111]
A thousand deaths around us grow,
The frost the tender blossom kills,
And roses wither as they blow.
The infant[112] apple seeks the ground,
The peaches fall, the cherries fail,
The grape receives a fatal wound.
Swells to a storm and rends the main,
The sun that charm'd the grass to grow
Turns hostile and consumes the plain;
Once purling streams are dead and dry—
'Twas nature's work—'tis nature's play,
And nature says that all must die.
In chaos dark shall shroud his beam
And leave the world to mother night,
A farce, a phantom, or a dream.
Whate'er we love, we soon must leave,
'Tis now too hot, 'tis now too cold—
To live is nothing but to grieve.
No mists bedimm'd the solar sphere—
The clouds arise—they shade the sun,
For nothing can be constant here.
In expectation we are blest;
But soon the airy phantom flies,
For, lo! the treasure is possest.
(While pensive nature[113] dropt a tear)
Those monarchs have to darkness fled
And ruin bounds their mad career.
Where Theon[114] would forever be,
Is but a name, is but a sound—
Mere emptiness and vanity.
Give me the heaven's remotest sphere,
Above these gloomy scenes to rise
Of desolation and despair.
Now languid grown too dimly glow,
Joy has to grief the heart resigned
And love itself is changed to woe.
These for a moment damp thy pain;
The gleam is o'er, the charm is lost—
And darkness clouds the soul again.
Where real bliss can ne'er be found,
Aspire where sweeter blossoms blow
And fairer flowers bedeck the ground.
And green eternal crowns the year,
The little god within thy breast[115]
Is weary of his mansion here.
[109] Freeman's Journal, January 2, 1782. In the editions of 1795 and 1809, the title is "To an Old Man."
[110] "With me a while, old man, repair."—Ed. 1795.
[111] "The torments of life's closing year."—Ed. 1795.
[112] "Blasted."—Ib.
[113] "Reason."—Ed. 1795.
[114] "Folly."—Ib.
[115] "That swells the breast."—Ed. 1795.
[116] "Sent before the day."—Ib.
[117] "The dawn arrives—he must not stay."—Ib.
[118] "Fate."—Ib.
[119] "Be all our cares."—Ib.
PROLOGUE[120]
To a Theatrical Entertainment in Philadelphia
Have banished long the pleasures of the stage;
From the gay painted scene compelled to part,
(Forgot the melting language of the heart)
Constrained to shun the bold theatric show,
To act long tragedies of real woe,
Heroes, once more attend the comic muse;
Forget our failings, and our faults excuse.
In that fine language is our fable drest
Which still unrivalled, reigns o'er all the rest;
Of foreign courts the study and the pride,
Who to know this abandon all beside;
Bold, though polite, and ever sure to please;
Correct with grace, and elegant with ease;
Soft from the lips its easy accents roll,
Formed to delight and captivate the soul:
In this Eugenia tells her easy lay,
The brilliant work of courtly Beaumarchais:
In this Racine, Voltaire, and Boileau sung,
The noblest poets in the noblest tongue.
If the soft story in our play expressed
Can give a moment's pleasure to your breast,
To you, Great Men,[121] we must be proud to say
That moment's pleasure shall our pains repay:
Returned from conquest and from glorious toils,
From armies captured and unnumbered spoils;
Ere yet again, with generous France allied,
You rush to battle, humbling British pride;
While arts of peace your kind protection share,
O let the Muses claim an equal care.
You bade us first our future greatness see,
Inspired by you, we languished to be free;
Even here where Freedom lately sat distrest,
See, a new Athens rising in the west!
Fair science blooms, where tyrants reigned before,
Red war, reluctant, leaves our ravaged shore—
Illustrious heroes, may you live to see
These new Republics powerful, great, and free;
Peace, heaven born peace, o'er spacious regions spread,
While discord, sinking, veils her ghastly head.
[120] First published in the Freeman's Journal, January 9, 1782, with the following introduction: "On Wednesday evening, the 2d instant [January 2, 1782] Alex. Quesnay, Esq., exhibited a most elegant entertainment at the playhouse, where were present his excellency Gen. Washington, the Minister of France, the President of the State, a number of officers of the army, and a brilliant assemblage of ladies and gentlemen of the city who were invited. After a prologue suitable to the occasion, Eugenie, an elegant French comedy, was first presented (written by the celebrated M. Beaumarchais), and in the opinion of several good judges was extremely well acted by the young gentlemen students in that polite language. After the comedy was acted the Lying Varlet, a farce; to this succeeded several curious dances, followed by a brilliant illumination, consisting of thirteen pyramidal pillars, representing the thirteen States,—on the middle column was seen a cupid, supporting a laurel crown over the motto, 'Washington, the pride of his Country and terror of Britain.' On the summit was the word Virginia, on the right Connecticut, with the names Greene and La Fayette, on the left the word Pennsylvania, with the names Wayne and Steuben, and so on according to the birthplace and State proper to each general. The spectacle ended with an artificial illumination of the thirteen columns."
The prologue, written at the request of Mr. Quesnay, is as above.
[121] In the 1786 version, which was reprinted verbatim from the newspaper, this read "Great Sir," with the foot-note, "Addressed to His Excellency General Washington," and the rest of the poem was made to refer solely to him. In the later versions this was changed so as to read, "Addressed to the Commander in Chief and several of the officers of the American army then present at the theatre in Southwark."
STANZAS[122]
Occasioned by the Ruins of a Country Inn, unroofed and blown down in a storm
A temple once to Bacchus rose,
Beneath whose roof, aspiring high,
Full many a guest forgot his woes:
Affords a social safe retreat;
But ravens here, with eye forlorn,
And clustering bats henceforth will meet.
Unable to survive the stroke,
Presents no more the ruddy wine,
Her glasses gone, her china broke.
Accosted strangers at the door,
Has left at length his wonted stand,
And greets the weary guest no more.
Might yet have spared these mouldering walls,
Alike beneath whose potent sway
A temple or a tavern falls.
Coy nymphs and sprightly lads were found?
Indeed! no more the nymphs are coy,
No more the flowing bowls go round.
Deceived the wintry hours away?
No more the swains the tune prolong,
No more the maidens join the lay:
In downy beds of blue and green?—
Dame Nature here no vigils kept,
No cold unfeeling guards were seen.
Deep, unrelenting silence reigns;
Of all that pleased, that charmed before,
The tottering chimney scarce remains!
Through doors and windows blew too strong,
And all the roof to ruin cast,
The roof that sheltered us so long.
If Mopsus should the dome renew;
That we again may quaff his wine,
Again collect our jovial crew.
[122] Published in the Freeman's Journal, January 23, 1782.
THE ROYAL ADVENTURER[123]
To witness George's sad disgrace
The Royal Lad came over
Rebels to kill by Right Divine—
Deriv'd from that illustrious line
The beggars of Hanover.
In vanquishing the rebel States,
So many nobles fell,
That George the Third in passion cry'd,
"Our royal blood must now be try'd;
"'Tis that must break the spell:
To Digby said) dear friend of mine,
"To you I trust my boy.
"The rebel tribes shall quake with fears,
"Rebellion die when he appears;
"My Tories leap with joy."
But never reach'd the continent,
An Island held him fast—
Yet there his friends danc'd rigadoons,
The Hessians sung in High Dutch tunes,
"Prince William's come at last."
"The glory of our empire wide
"Shall now be soon restor'd—
"Our monarch is in William seen,
"He is the image of our queen,
"Let William be ador'd!"
With poems groan'd the Royal press,
And all in William's praise—
The boy astonish'd look'd about
To find their vast dominions out,
Then answer'd in amaze,
"Friends, for my soul I cannot see:
"'Tis but an empty name;
"Three wasted islands and a town
"In rubbish bury'd—half burnt down,
"Is all that we can claim:
"But what, alas! can princes do,
"No armies to command?
"Cornwallis conquer'd and distrest,
"Sir Henry Clinton grown a jest,
"I curse and leave the land."
[123] Published in the Freeman's Journal, January 30, 1782. "Prince William Henry, third son of George III, afterwards William IV, entered the navy as midshipman at the age of fourteen in 1779. He sailed in the Prince George of 98 guns to Gibralter, in the course of which cruise he saw some service under Rodney in conflict with the Spanish fleet; and it was in this ship, accompanied by Admiral Digby, that he arrived at New York in September, 1781."—Duyckinck. He was received with great enthusiasm and ceremony. In the Freeman's Journal of January 25, 1782, was the following, doubtless from the pen of Freneau: "It is observable that the arrival of Prince William Henry in New York filled the British with 'joy ineffable and universal.' The very chimney sweeps, smitten with the poetic flame, composed odes in his praise, some of which were inserted in The Royal Gazette." The 1809 edition was given a long French motto from Mirabeau, which Freneau translates as follows: "The favourites of a throne bask in its sunshine, like butterflies in a fine day. Their very slaves at the foot of royalty partake of the delusion. They keep a nation under their feet, and their every folly influences and is followed by the multitude. They care not if their fathers and their nearest relatives are trampled into the dust, provided they can figure away in the circles of a court, etc."
LORD DUNMORE'S PETITION TO THE
LEGISLATURE OF VIRGINIA[124]
And known by the name of John, earl of Dunmore,
Has again ventured over to visit your shore.
In England they said you were conquered and slain,
(But the devil take him who believes them again)—
That some had submitted, and others had fled,
I mustered my Tories, myself at their head,
As merry as ever poor devils could be,
Our ancient dominion, Virginia, to see;
Already conceived he possessed an estate,
And the Tories no longer were cursing their fate.
Like Sancho, had islands and empires in view—
They were captains, and kings, and the devil knows who:
No longer deceived by the Father of Lies,[A]
We hear with our ears, and we see with our eyes:—
[A] The printer of the Royal Gazette.—Freneau's note, ed. of 1786.
(And I'm sure, in my mind, it will be for the best)
Admit me again to your mansions of rest.
All waiting to see you submit to the Lion,
And may wait till the devil is king of Mount Sion:—
I can govern as well as most Englishmen can;
And if I'm a drunkard, I still am a man:
Or six years ago I had joined with your votes;
Not aided the negroes in cutting your throats.[126]
I hope you'll believe, (as you will if you're candid)
That I only performed what my master commanded.
Let who will be master, we sha'nt disagree;
If king or if Congress—no matter to me;—
For 'tis plain that at Charleston we cannot long stay—
And your humble petitioner ever shall pray.
Charleston, Jan. 6, 1782.
[124] First published in the Freeman's Journal, February 13, 1782, and printed almost without change in the various editions. Lord Dunmore was appointed Royal Governor of Virginia in 1770, but, after a stormy career was forced to flee from the colony after the news of Lexington had reached the Southern patriots.
[125] "The last Royal Governors: Robert Eden of Maryland; Joseph Martin of North Carolina; William Franklin of New Jersey; William Tryon of New York."—Duyckinck.
[126] After the second patriot convention assembled in Richmond, Va., in March, 1775, to take measures toward putting the colony in a state of defence, Dunmore, "To intimidate the Virginians, issued proclamations and circulated a rumor that he would incite an insurrection of their slaves.... 'The whole country,' said he, 'can easily be made a solitude; and by the living God! if any insult is offered to me or to those who have obeyed my orders, I will declare freedom to the slaves and lay the town in ashes.'"—Bancroft.
EPIGRAM[127]
Occasioned by the title of Mr. Rivington's[A] New York Royal Gazette being scarcely legible
[A] Royal printer to his Britannic majesty while his forces held the city of New York, from 1776 to November 25, 1783.—Freneau's note.
"That you mean to abandon our Royal Gazette,
"Or, between you and me, you would manage things better
"Than the Title to print on so sneaking a letter.
"It would not be prudent at present to part;
"And people, perhaps, would be frightened, and fret
"If the devil alone carried on the Gazette."
"Who gives me the matter should furnish the type;
"And why you find fault, I can scarcely divine,
"For the types, like the printer, are certainly thine.
"Thou friend of my age, and thou guide of my youth!
"But, to prosper, pray send me some further supplies,
"A sett of new types, and a sett of new lies."
[127] Published in the Freeman's Journal, February 13, 1782.
A SPEECH[128]
That should have been spoken by the King of the Island of Britain to his Parliament
When I think of this year and its cursed campaign;[129]
But still it is folly to whine and to grieve,
For things will yet alter, I hope and believe.
They were just in our grasp (or I'm sadly deceiv'd):
There are wizards and witches that dwell in those lands,
For the moment we gain them, they slip from our hands.
Cornwallis returns with a flea in his ear,
Sir Henry is sick of his station we know—
And Amherst, though press'd, is unwilling to go.
With Monsieur Suffrein was unable to cope—
Many months are elaps'd, yet his task is to do—
To conquer the cape, and to conquer Peru:
He promis'd great things from his fifty-gun ship;
But let him alone—while he knows which is which,
He'll not be so ready "to die in a ditch."
"A treaty concluded, and peace with the Dutch"—
But as stubborn as ever, they vapour and brag,
And sail by my nose with the Prussian flag.
As yet with the Indians we're only ally'd:
(Though such an alliance is rather improper,
For we English are white, but their colour is copper.)
They ever have been a most troublesome crew—
If a truce or a treaty hereafter be made,
They shall pay very dear for their present free trade.
For Tobago, they say, by Frenchmen is taken;
Minorca's besieg'd—and as for Gibraltar,
By Jove, if it's taken I'll take to the halter.
When I think of our losses along Mississippi—
And see in the Indies that horrible Hyder,
His conquests extending still wider and wider.
By my soul we are brought to a very fine pass—
When we've reason to hope new battles are won,
A packet arrives—and an army's undone!—
What is best to be done, is not easy to guess,
For things may go wrong though we plan them aright,
And blows they must look for, whose trade is to fight.
That dependent on Britain they ever shall be;
Or I've captains and hosts that will fly at my nod
And slaughter them all—by the blessing of God.
Our neighbours must part with their colonies too:
Let them laugh and be merry, and make us their jest,
When La Plata revolts, we shall laugh with the rest—
Was a project that brought the projectors to ruin;
But still, my dear lords, I would have you reflect,
Who nothing do venture can nothing expect.
My sentence once more is for vigorous measures:
Accustom'd so long to head winds and bad weather,
Let us conquer or go to the devil together.
[128] In the Freeman's Journal of February 2, 1782, is given his Majesty's speech of November 27, 1781, in full, followed by the speech he should have given. The first tidings of the surrender of Cornwallis reached England November 25. The king's speech to Parliament was confused and aimless.
[129] Alluding to the last campaign of the war, which culminated in the surrender of Cornwallis.