POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU

Volume II

THE

POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU

POET OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION

EDITED FOR
The Princeton Historical Association

BY
FRED LEWIS PATTEE
OF THE PENNSYLVANIA STATE COLLEGE, AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE"
"THE FOUNDATIONS OF ENGLISH LITERATURE" ETC.

Volume II

Princeton, N. J.
The University Library
1903

C. S. Robinson & Co. University Press
Princeton N. J.

VOLUME II
	PAGE
PART II Continued The First Poetic Period. 1775-1781
George the Third's Soliloquy	3
Sir Harry's Invitation	7
Dialogue between his Britannic Majesty and Mr. Fox	9
The British Prison Ship	18
The Spy	39
PART III Era of the Freeman's Journal. 1781-1790
On the Memorable Victory of Paul Jones	75
An Address	81
A New-York Tory	84
To Lord Cornwallis	86
A London Dialogue	87
Lord Cornwallis to Sir Henry Clinton	89
The Vanity of Existence	91
On the Fall of General Earl Cornwallis	92
To the Memory of the Brave Americans	101
Arnold's Departure	103
Plato to Theon	104
Prologue to a Theatrical Entertainment	108
Ruins of a Country Inn	110
The Royal Adventurer	112
Lord Dunmore's Petition	114
Epigram	116
A Speech by the King of Britain	117
Rivington's Last Will and Testament	120
Lines Occasioned by Mr. Rivington's New Titular Types	124
Lines on Mr. Rivington's New Engraved King's Arms	125
A Prophecy, Written 1782	126
The Argonaut or Lost Adventurer	128
The Political Balance	130
Dialogue at Hyde Park Corner	140
On the Late Royal Sloop of War General Monk	142
Truth Anticipated	143
Barney's Invitation	147
Song on Captain Barney's Victory	149
On Sir Henry Clinton's Recall	153
Sir Guy Carleton's Address	156
Scandanavian War Song	159
The Projectors	160
On General Robertson's Proclamation	162
A Picture of the Times	165
Prince William Henry's Soliloquy	167
Satan's Remonstrance	169
The Refugees' Petition to Sir Guy Carleton	172
Sir Guy's Answer	173
To a Concealed Royalist	174
To the Concealed Royalist, in Answer to a Second Attack	177
To the Concealed Royalist on his Farewell	179
To the Royalist Unveiled	181
To Shylock Ap-Shenkin	185
The Prophecy of King Tammany	187
Rivington's Reflections	190
New Year's Verses, January 1, 1783	197
New Year's Verses, January 8, 1783	198
Hugh Gaine's Life	201
Stanzas Occasioned by the Departure of the British from Charleston, December 14, 1782	214
On the British King's Speech	217
A New-York Tory's Epistle	219
Manhattan City	223
Verses Occasioned by General Washington's Arrival in Philadelphia	225
Rivington's Confessions	229
A News-Man's Address	238
New Year's Verses, January 7, 1784	240
The Happy Prospect	242
The Dying Indian, Tomo-Chequi	243
Lines Intended for Mr. Peale's Exhibition	246
The Hurricane	250
To the Keeper of the King's Water Works	252
Lines Written at Port Royal	253
To Sir Toby, a Sugar Planter	258
Elegy on Mr. Robert Bell	260
On the First American Ship that Explored the Rout to India	261
The Newsmonger	263
Sketches of American History	269
The Progress of Balloons	276
On the Emigration to America	280
The Seasons Moralized	282
On the Death of Colonel Laurens	283
On the Vicissitudes of Things	284
Pewter-Platter Alley in Philadelphia	287
On the Death of General Joseph Reed	288
A Renegado Epistle	290
The American Siberia	293
Epistle to Sylvius	295
The Departure, 1785	298
A Newsman's Address	301
Literary Importation	303
The Englishman's Complaint	305
The Wild Honey Suckle	306
On a Book Called Unitarian Theology	307
To Zoilus	309
On the Legislature of Great-Britain Prohibiting the Sale of Dr. Ramsay's History	312
The Death Song of a Cherokee Indian	313
Stanzas Written at the Foot of Monte Souffriere	314
On the Crew of a Certain Vessel	317
The Bermuda Islands	318
Florio to Amanda	319
Philander: or The Emigrant	321
The Fair Solitary	325
Amanda in a Consumption	326
Elegiac Lines	328
The Insolvent's Release	329
May to April	331
To an Author	332
To Misfortune	335
To Cracovius Putridus	336
Slender's Journey	338
The Hermit of Saba	359
The Indian Burying Ground	369
The Indian Student	371
The Man of Ninety	374
Alcina's Enchanted Island	376
Horace, Lib. I. Ode 15	377
A Subscription Prayer	379
Epistle to the Patriotic Farmer	380
Palemon to Lavinia	381
A Newsman's Address	383
On the Prospect of a Revolution in France	385
To a Dog	387
To Lydia	387
To Cynthia	391
Amanda's Complaint	392
Hatteras	394
St. Catharine's	397
To Mr. Churchman	398
The Procession to Sylvania	399
The Pilgrim's Progress	401
Sangrado's Expedition to Sylvania	402
The Distrest Theatre	404
To Memmius	406

PART II (Continued)

THE FIRST POETIC PERIOD

1775—1781

THE

POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU

GEORGE THE THIRD'S SOLILOQUY [1]

What mean these dreams, and hideous forms that rise
Night after night, tormenting to my eyes—
No real foes these horrid shapes can be,
But thrice as much they vex and torture me.
How cursed is he—how doubly cursed am I—5
Who lives in pain, and yet who dares not die;
To him no joy this world of Nature brings,
In vain the wild rose blooms, the daisy springs.
Is this a prelude to some new disgrace,
Some baleful omen to my name and race!—10
It may be so—ere mighty Cæsar died
Presaging Nature felt his doom, and sighed;
A bellowing voice through midnight groves was heard,
And threatening ghosts at dusk of eve appeared—
Ere Brutus fell, to adverse fates a prey,15
His evil genius met him on the way,
And so may mine!—but who would yield so soon
A prize, some luckier hour may make my own?
Shame seize my crown ere such a deed be mine—
No—to the last my squadrons shall combine,20
And slay my foes, while foes remain to slay,
Or heaven shall grant me one successful day.
Is there a robber close in Newgate hemmed,
Is there a cut-throat, fettered and condemned?
Haste, loyal slaves, to George's standard come,25
Attend his lectures when you hear the drum;
Your chains I break—for better days prepare,
Come out, my friends, from prison and from care,
Far to the west I plan your desperate sway,
There 'tis no sin to ravage, burn, and slay,30
There, without fear, your bloody aims pursue,
And shew mankind what English thieves can do.
That day, when first I mounted to the throne,
I swore to let all foreign foes alone.
Through love of peace to terms did I advance,35
And made, they say, a shameful league with France.[2]
But different scenes rise horrid to my view,
I charged my hosts to plunder and subdue—
At first, indeed, I thought short wars to wage
And sent some jail-birds to be led by Gage,[3]40
For 'twas but right, that those we marked for slaves
Should be reduced by cowards, fools, and knaves;
Awhile directed by his feeble hand,
Whose troops were kicked and pelted through the land,
Or starved in Boston, cursed the unlucky hour45
They left their dungeons for that fatal shore.
France aids them now, a desperate game I play,
And hostile Spain will do the same, they say;
My armies vanquished, and my heroes fled,
My people murmuring, and my commerce dead,50
My shattered navy pelted, bruised, and clubbed,
By Dutchmen bullied, and by Frenchmen drubbed,
My name abhorred, my nation in disgrace,
How should I act in such a mournful case!
My hopes and joys are vanished with my coin,55
My ruined army, and my lost Burgoyne!
What shall I do—confess my labours vain,
Or whet my tusks, and to the charge again!
But where's my force—my choicest troops are fled,
Some thousands crippled, and a myriad dead—60
If I were owned the boldest of mankind,
And hell with all her flames inspired my mind,
Could I at once with Spain and France contend,
And fight the rebels on the world's green end?—
The pangs of parting I can ne'er endure,65
Yet part we must, and part to meet no more!
Oh, blast this Congress, blast each upstart State,
On whose commands ten thousand captains wait;
From various climes that dire Assembly came,
True to their trust, as hostile to my fame,70
'Tis these, ah these, have ruined half my sway,
Disgraced my arms, and led my slaves astray—
Cursed be the day when first I saw the sun,
Cursed be the hour when I these wars begun:
The fiends of darkness then possessed my mind,75
And powers unfriendly to the human kind.
To wasting grief, and sullen rage a prey,
To Scotland's utmost verge I'll take my way,
There with eternal storms due concert keep
And while the billows rage, as fiercely weep—80
Ye highland lads, my rugged fate bemoan,
Assist me with one sympathizing groan,[4]
For late I find the nations are my foes,
I must submit, and that with bloody nose,
Or, like our James, fly basely from the state,85
Or share, what still is worse—old Charles's fate.

[1] From the edition of 1809. The poem was first published in the May number of the United States Magazine, 1779, and much revised and enlarged for the edition of 1786, where it bore the title, "George III. His Soliloquy for 1779." This earliest version, which began with the startling line,

"O Damn this Congress, damn each upstart state,"

was made up as follows, the numbering referring to the above version:

Lines 68-72, 47-64, followed by

"Yet rogues and savage tribes I must employ,
And what I cannot conquer will destroy."

Lines 23-32, followed by

"Ye daring hosts that croud Columbia's shore,
Tremble ye traitors, and exult no more;
Flames I shall hurl with an unceasing hand,
Till fires eternal blaze throughout your land,
And every dome and every town expires,
And traitors perish in the unfeeling fires;
But hold—though this be all my soul's desire,
Will my own towns be proof to rebel fire.
If in revenge my raging foes should come,
And burn my London—it would strike me dumb,
To see my children and my queen in tears,
And these tall piles come tumbling round my ears,
Would to its inmost caverns fright my mind,
And stun ourself, the boldest of mankind."

Lines 73-76, followed by

"My future years I consecrate to woe,
For this great loss my soul in tears shall flow."

Ending with lines 77-82.

[2] Alluding to the peace of 1761 and the forced retirement of Pitt.

[3] "And sent a scoundrel by the name of Gage."—Ed. 1786.

[4]

"O let the earth my rugged fate bemoan,
And give at least one sympathizing groan."
—United States Magazine, 1779.

SIR HARRY'S INVITATION [5]

Come, gentlemen Tories, firm, loyal, and true,
Here are axes and shovels, and something to do!
For the sake of our king,
Come, labour and sing;
You left all you had for his honour and glory,
And he will remember the suffering Tory:
We have, it is true,
Some small work to do;
But here's for your pay
Twelve coppers a day,
And never regard what the rebels may say,
But throw off your jerkins and labour away.

To raise up the rampart, and pile up the wall,
To pull down old houses and dig the canal,
To build and destroy—
Be this your employ,
In the day time to work at our fortifications,
And steal in the night from the rebels your rations:
The king wants your aid,
Not empty parade;
Advance to your places
Ye men of long faces,
Nor ponder too much on your former disgraces,
This year, I presume, will quite alter your cases.

Attend at the call of the fifer and drummer,
The French and the Rebels are coming next summer,
And forts we must build
Though Tories are kill'd—
Then courage, my jockies, and work for your king,
For if you are taken no doubt you will swing—
If York we can hold
I'll have you enroll'd;
And after you're dead
Your names shall be read
As who for their monarch both labour'd and bled,
And ventur'd their necks for their beef and their bread.

'Tis an honour to serve the bravest of nations,
And be left to be hang'd in their capitulations—
Then scour up your mortars
And stand to your quarters,
'Tis nonsense for Tories in battle to run,
They never need fear sword, halberd, or gun;
Their hearts should not fail 'em,
No balls will assail 'em,
Forget your disgraces
And shorten your faces,
For 'tis true as the gospel, believe it or not,
Who are born to be hang'd, will never be shot.