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 | Columbia's glory |  |
“Alas! (at length she cry'd)
“How can I but repine?
“Unhappy me what miseries betide!
“Whose fate so hard? whose prospects dark like mine?
“Twice fourscore years have roll'd
“Their ample circles round,
“Since, on my native isle,
“Restrain'd my judgment and my conscience bound
“In chains and fetters vile,
“Render'd by persecution bold,
“And by the hopes of freedom led,
“Some kind asylum to explore,
“From stepdame Britain's tyranny I fled
“To this inhospitable shore,
“T' enjoy, in some wild desart here,
“The privileges which I held so dear,
“The rights of conscience and a faith sincere.
“Here, on a coast unknown,
“With hideous forests overgrown,
“Press'd with an heavy load
“Of dire afflictions, destitute of aid,
“And far remote from all my friends, I made
“My desolate abode.
“Here often, to my cost,
“I mourn'd the death of children lost
“By pinching want, by chilling storms,
“By dire disease in various forms,
“Or the fell inroads of a savage crew;
“But providence Divine
“From my keen sorrows granted sweet release,
“Gave me glad intervals of peace,
“Made me prolific as the vine,
“And, by a large increase,
“With children fill'd my cottages anew.
“And tho' rude savages in arms,
“With dire invasions and alarms,
“Oft troubled my repose;
“My sons, by their industrious toil,
“From thickets freed th' incumber'd soil,
“And made the desart blossom as the rose.
“Increasing and improving still,
“New habitations to explore,
“The ports to settle or the ground to till,
“My children issued in detachments forth,
“From East to West from South to North,
“And stretch'd my new domain from shore to shore.
“At length, in spite of all my foes,
“Along the dreary waste,
“Fair cities, towns and villages arose,
“Where a religion chaste,
“From human mixtures pure,
“A peaceful seat obtain'd,
“From civil punishments secure,
“Subject to God alone, and unconstrain'd
“Or by the pride or bigotry of kings.
“Then did the forest and the field
“Kind nature's various bounties yield,
“And commerce freighted with her stores,
“From my extensive shores,
“O'er the wide ocean spread her canvas wings.
“But ah! too soon my stepdame's sons,
“A selfish race of idle drones,
“Eager, without the toil,
“To share the produce of the soil,
“And of my labours make a spoil,
“Came in great numbers o'er;
“Resolv'd with zeal to subjugate
“All my affairs, in church and state,
“To haughty Britain's arbitrary pow'r.
“But not content themselves t'invade
“The dear-earn'd rights for which I fled,
“Long have they insolently try'd,
“With superstitious zeal,
“To tempt my sons aside,
“Implicitly to kneel,
“And, like my former children feel
“The dire effects of Prelacy and pride.
“But, though this priestly project fail'd,
“A deeper civil plot prevail'd
“Rebellion to inspire;
“Rouz'd on me Britain's vengeful ire,
“And a rebellious crew
“Of my base children from their duty drew,
“Debauch'd them from my injur'd cause,
“To vile submission to oppressive laws,
“Good sense abhors and freedom never knew.
“And oh! I greatly fear,
“(So num'rous is their score)
“They'll soon betray
“Those liberties I hold so dear,
“And give my boasted freedom o'er,
“A miserable prey,
“To base designing knaves.
“No less I fear my faithful sons,
“Unpractis'd in the field,
“And overmatch'd by numbers, will not dare
“In my defence the sword of war to wield;
“But, like a set of tim'rous drones,
“Will most ignobly yield
“To the suggestions of despair,
“And be forever slaves.”
“How can I but repine?
“Unhappy me what miseries betide!
“Whose fate so hard? whose prospects dark like mine?
“Twice fourscore years have roll'd
“Their ample circles round,
“Since, on my native isle,
“Restrain'd my judgment and my conscience bound
“In chains and fetters vile,
“Render'd by persecution bold,
7
“Some kind asylum to explore,
“From stepdame Britain's tyranny I fled
“To this inhospitable shore,
“T' enjoy, in some wild desart here,
“The privileges which I held so dear,
“The rights of conscience and a faith sincere.
“Here, on a coast unknown,
“With hideous forests overgrown,
“Press'd with an heavy load
“Of dire afflictions, destitute of aid,
“And far remote from all my friends, I made
“My desolate abode.
“Here often, to my cost,
“I mourn'd the death of children lost
“By pinching want, by chilling storms,
“By dire disease in various forms,
“Or the fell inroads of a savage crew;
“But providence Divine
“From my keen sorrows granted sweet release,
“Gave me glad intervals of peace,
“Made me prolific as the vine,
“And, by a large increase,
“With children fill'd my cottages anew.
“And tho' rude savages in arms,
“With dire invasions and alarms,
“Oft troubled my repose;
“My sons, by their industrious toil,
“From thickets freed th' incumber'd soil,
“And made the desart blossom as the rose.
“Increasing and improving still,
“New habitations to explore,
“The ports to settle or the ground to till,
“My children issued in detachments forth,
“From East to West from South to North,
“And stretch'd my new domain from shore to shore.
“At length, in spite of all my foes,
“Along the dreary waste,
8
“Where a religion chaste,
“From human mixtures pure,
“A peaceful seat obtain'd,
“From civil punishments secure,
“Subject to God alone, and unconstrain'd
“Or by the pride or bigotry of kings.
“Then did the forest and the field
“Kind nature's various bounties yield,
“And commerce freighted with her stores,
“From my extensive shores,
“O'er the wide ocean spread her canvas wings.
“But ah! too soon my stepdame's sons,
“A selfish race of idle drones,
“Eager, without the toil,
“To share the produce of the soil,
“And of my labours make a spoil,
“Came in great numbers o'er;
“Resolv'd with zeal to subjugate
“All my affairs, in church and state,
“To haughty Britain's arbitrary pow'r.
“But not content themselves t'invade
“The dear-earn'd rights for which I fled,
“Long have they insolently try'd,
“With superstitious zeal,
“To tempt my sons aside,
“Implicitly to kneel,
“And, like my former children feel
“The dire effects of Prelacy and pride.
“But, though this priestly project fail'd,
“A deeper civil plot prevail'd
“Rebellion to inspire;
“Rouz'd on me Britain's vengeful ire,
9
“Of my base children from their duty drew,
“Debauch'd them from my injur'd cause,
“To vile submission to oppressive laws,
“Good sense abhors and freedom never knew.
“And oh! I greatly fear,
“(So num'rous is their score)
“They'll soon betray
“Those liberties I hold so dear,
“And give my boasted freedom o'er,
“A miserable prey,
“To base designing knaves.
“No less I fear my faithful sons,
“Unpractis'd in the field,
“And overmatch'd by numbers, will not dare
“In my defence the sword of war to wield;
“But, like a set of tim'rous drones,
“Will most ignobly yield
“To the suggestions of despair,
“And be forever slaves.”
Although the author avows, that he was, from principle, as enemy to, and even a writer against, the formerly projected Episcopate, yet, he now declares, that, as a friend to liberty of conscience, he has no objection whatever to Bishops of any kind (of which there are three or four already in these states) so long as they absurdly have no share in the civil government, but, being under its controul, as well as others, confine themselves to the spiritual duties of their function.
| Columbia's glory | |