University of Virginia Library

A POEM ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE REGENT OF PORTUGAL.

SIRE,

In the long conflict which terminated by severing the ties that attached the ancient colonies, now the United States of America, to the mother country, Great-Britain, the Portuguese government, equitable in its policy to the former, and faithful to its alliance with the latter, could only have been expected to preserve a strict neutrality. Some time after the conclusion of that war, it was my destiny to have been employed on a public mission to her most Faithful Majesty, for the purpose of cementing and consolidating the friendship of our two governments and nations. Commercial and friendly relations, I will dare to say mutually beneficial, of an enlarged and valuable nature were formed. To have been the the first Minister from the Unites States of America to Portugal; to have been instrumental in opening an extensively advantageous intercourse between the inhabitants of the two countries; to have never been involved in any unpleasant discussion; and to have enjoyed the uninterrupted favour of the Royal Family of Braganza, when accredited as a diplomatic agent near its chief for more than seven years, are circumstances which will continue to be remembered, with conscious pleasure, to the latest period of my life. And never shall I hesitate to acknowledge, with manly gratitude, the liberal and amicable conduct of the cabinet of Lisbon towards the United States as a nation, and myself as their representative. Nor ought my acknowledgments to be expressed with less deference or cordiality for the distinguished treatment which I experienced in the particular audience recently accorded by the Prince Regent of Portugal to me, in my private character, when he signified his great satisfaction at being presented with the following Poem.

The Poem, which treats of the national industry of the United States, was composed on the delightful banks of the Tagus, while I was thus honourably occupied on a public mission, and when my days were pleasantly passed in the enjoyment of health, happiness,

and content. To whom, then, could it with more propriety be addressed than to the Prince Regent of Portugal?

Actuated by a lively sense of such enviable distinction, I offer sthe tribute of sincerity in inscribing this Poem as a testimony of respect for a “just Prince;” an appellation which I had the most satisfactory reasons for applying when I took leave of the Court of Lisbon, in 1797, and which has since been confirmed by almost innumerable titles. If, Sire, I have ever wished for a capacity of paying a still larger tribute of honour where it is most due, it was that your princely and personal virtues might be as advantageously known to the remotest posterity as to the existing generation.

With these sentiments of your munificent public and exemplary private conduct,

ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

The main scope of the author's principal productions in verse, has been to indicate to his fellow-citizens, in a connected manner, the measures best calculated for increasing and prolonging the public felicity. He deemed the success of our revolution the broad basis on which this superstructure was to be built. The first thing to be done was to establish our independence; the second to prepare the national mind to profit by our unusual advantages for happiness; and the next to exhibit in perspective those numberless blessings which Heaven has lavished around us, and which can scarcely be lost but by our own folly or fault. Having attempted to furnish his countrymen with some seasonable arguments and reflections on these subjects, in his “Address to the Armies,” in his “Poem on the Happiness of America,” and in the “Prospect of the Future Glory of the United States,” he proposes now to show the prodigious influence of national industry in producing public and private riches and enjoyments.

One of the primary objects of a good government is to give energy and extent to industry, by protecting the acquisitions and avails of their labour to the governed. This industry is the cause of the wealth of nations. It hastens their advancement in the arts of peace, and multiplies their resources for war. Under such a safeguard, mankind, engaged in any lawful and productive profession, will advance, at the same moment, their own interest and that of the commonwealth. Universal prosperity must ensue. With us, the successful issue has been the best panegyric of such a system. Could industry become generally fashionable and prevalent, indigence, and the calamities that flow from it, would be confined within very narrow channels. With a few exceptions, such as are offered by the bee, the ant, and the beaver, social toil, which accomplishes works truly astonishing for their contrivance and magnitude, distinguishes the human race from every species of the animal creation. A reciprocation of wants and aids, as it were, rivets man to his fellows. What isolated person can perform for himself every act which his helpless and feeble state requires? By a combination of well-directed efforts, what miracles of improvement, what prodigies in refinement, may be effected! The expediency, and even the necessity of concerted and persevering

operations, have a natural tendency to confirm and augment, through the medium of mutual services and benefits, fidelity, kindness, valour and virtue, among the members of civil society. Who, then, will envy the indolent and comfortless lot of the solitary savage, or the thinly scattered tribes of the desert?

The influence of industry is not less efficacious in procuring personal advantage and fruition for individuals. It commonly gives health of body and serenity of mind, together with strength of resolution and consistency of character. It thus furnishes a kind of moral force for overcoming the sluggishness of matter, which constantly inclines to repose. Influenced by a desire of being free from humiliating dependence and degrading penury, every man, who is not visited by sickness or prevented by disaster, will be enabled, in his youthful days, to provide a plentiful subsistence for his old age; so that, in the last stages of infirmity and decrepitude, distress and mendicity will seldom, if ever, be seen. Such is now the condition of the people of the United States of America. To flatter the idle and worthless, by perpetually declaiming on the duty of the industrious and wealthy to dispense largely their contributions and charities, is the insidious language often used in Europe by many vociferous demagogues and revolutionary scribblers. To prevent poverty as much as possible, by presenting employment to protected and provident industry, is the high office of a wise and just government. In our country that policy has been successful beyond all former example. The traveller may journey thousands of miles without meeting a single beggar. And herein a striking difference will be remarked between our country and most of the countries in the world.

That industry is capable of speedily changing a dreary wilderness into a cheerful habitation for men, the history of the progress of society in the United States of America has sufficiently proved. It is at present generally understood, that an unequalled share of happiness is enjoyed by the inhabitants of this newly discovered continent. This is, perhaps, chiefly attributable (under the benediction of Providence) to their singularly favourable situation for cultivating the soil. May we not fairly calculate that this effect will continue co-existent with the cause; namely, the abundance and cheapness of land? An almost unlimited space of excellent territory remains to be settled. Freehold estates may be purchased upon moderate terms. Agriculture will probably, for a succession of ages, be the chief employment of the citizens of the United States.

Notwithstanding the beauties and pleasures of rural life have so frequently been happily described in poetry, it was presumed

the settlement and cultivation of a new hemisphere might supply some new topics and allusions. There many things wore a novel appearance, when examined in their process and result. The agricultural character was presented in action, with more than usual effect and felicity. The changes were, in some respects, like those in a garden of enchantment. Upon the introduction of civilization into those rugged and inhospitable regions, whose barbarity was coeval with the world, forests fell, houses rose, and beautiful scenery succeeded. It was not intended, by deviating from the beaten track of describing old establishments, to run unnecessarily into the bye-path of innovation and singularity. Many American prospects rose before the author's transported imagination, when he was far absent from his native land. How frequent did he wish for a magic pencil to make them equally present to the mental sight of his European friends! How often, and with how much ardour, did his fancy dwell on the humble and unvarnished blessings of peace, when contrasted with the proud and dazzling miseries of war! In thus ruminating on the walks of still life, he hoped he should at least be permitted, without incurring the displeasure of any ill-natured critic, to proceed in a course so amusing to himself, picking here and there a wild or cultivated flower, and attempting to delineate such landscapes as he might occasionally find, interspersed with scenes of romantic grandeur or domestic simplicity.

This Poem was proposed to be so constructed as to permit sentiment to be mingled with description, without appearing misplaced. The author makes no excuse for having bestowed a portion of his mortal duration, not immediately claimed by business or duty, in recommending to his countrymen that industry, which, he conceives, would most effectually promote their temporal happiness. In this, as in every thing not unlawful, he feels himself a free agent, accountable for his actions to his conscience and his God. Yet it would be an unworthy affectation to pretend a total insensibility to the opinion of others, or, more properly speaking, to that of the enlightened and virtuous part of the community. However sensible he might be to their favourable decision, he must be allowed to be more ambitious of deserving than obtaining it. Consciousness of an upright endeavour to serve, and a reasonable solicitude to please, those to whom this address is offered, may satisfy himself. No one more sincerely or fervently desires their attainment of felicity. If any thing produced or done by him shall have been obviously calculated for that object, he will have performed the most pleasing task which he could have imposed on himself.

ARGUMENT.

The Genius of Culture invoked—prodigious effect of toil in changing the face of nature—state of our country when it was first settled by our ancestors—their manly efforts crowned with success—contrast between North and South-America—the latter remarkable for mines, as the former is for agriculture —in what manner labour embellishes the land—different branches of cultivation recommended—the fabrication of maple-sugar dwelt upon, as having a gradual tendency to the abolition of slavery—commerce to succeed—strong propensities of the people of the United States for extensive navigation —effeminate nations are always in danger of losing their independence—several specified which have experienced the debilitating consequences of sloth—its destructive influence on states—Congress called upon to encourage industry in the United States; and Washington, as President, to protect manufactures —machinery for diminishing the operations of manual labour—the loom—wool—sheep—flax and hemp—remonstrance against suffering our manufacturing establishments to be frustrated by an unreasonable predilection for foreign fabrics— the fair sex invited to give the example of encouraging home manufactures—their province in the United States—their influence on civilized society—deplorable condition of savage life—moral effect of industry on constitution and character— bold and adventurous spirit of our citizens—prepared by hardiness to distinguish themselves on the ocean and in war— allusion to our contest with Britain—happiness of our present peaceful situation—the Poem is concluded with the praises of Connecticut as an agricultural State.

Genius of Culture! thou, whose chaster taste
Can clothe with beauty ev'n the dreary waste;
Teach me to sing, what bright'ning charms unfold,
The bearded ears, that bend with more than gold;
How empire rises, and how morals spring,
From lowly labour, teach my lips to sing;
Exalt the numbers with thy gifts supreme,
Ennobler of the song, my guide and theme!
Thou, toil! that mak'st, where our young empire grows,
The wilderness bloom beauteous as the rose,
Parent of wealth and joy! my nation's friend!
Be present, nature's rudest works to mend;
With all the arts of polish'd life to bless,
And half thy ills, Humanity! redress.
On this revolving day, that saw the birth
Of a whole nation glad th' astonished earth;
Thee I invoke to bless the recent reign
Of independence—but for thee how vain
Each fair advantage liberty has giv'n,
And all the copious bounties show'r'd by heav'n?
Hail, mighty pow'r! whose vivifying breath
Wakes vegetation on the barren heath;
Thou changest nature's face; thy influence such,
Dark deserts brighten at thy glowing touch;
Creation springs where'er thy plough-share drives,
And the dead grain, an hundred fold, revives.
Thy voice, that dissipates the savage gloom,
Bade in the wild unwonted beauty bloom:
By thee and freedom guided, not in vain,
Our great fore-fathers dar'd the desert main:
O'er waves no keel had cut they found the shore,
Where desolation stain'd his steps with gore,
Th' immense of forest! where no tree was fell'd,
Where savage-men at midnight orgies yell'd;
Where howl'd round burning pyres each ravening beast,
As fiend-like forms devour'd their bloody feast,
And hoarse resounded o'er the horrid heath,
The doleful war-whoop, or the song of death.
Soon our progenitors subdu'd the wild,
And virgin nature, rob'd in verdure, smil'd.
They bade her fruits, through rifted rocks, from hills
Descend, misnam'd innavigable rills:
Bade houses, hamlets, towns, and cities rise,
And tow'rs and temples gild Columbian skies.
Success thence crown'd that bold, but patient band,
Whose undegen'rate sons possess the land;
Their great fore-fathers' principles avow,
And proudly dare to venerate the plough.
Where slaughter's war-dogs many a tribe destroy'd,
Not such the race who fill'd the southern void:
For them unbidden harvests deck the soil,
For them in mines unhappy thousands toil,
Where Plata's waves o'er silvery sands are roll'd,
Or Amazonia's path is pav'd in gold.
There suns too fiercely o'er the surface glow,
And embryon metals form and feed below;
Where, shut from day, in central caverns deep,
Hopeless of freedom, wretches watch and weep;
Compell'd for gold to rip the womb of earth,
And drag the precious mischief into birth.
Yet where those vertic suns intensely shine,
Whose fires the metals more than men refine,
To drain their limbs of strength the climate serves,
And not our vigour strings their slacken'd nerves.
While all your gains the social pact secures,
Columbians! say, what happiness is yours?
Say, ye who, not as tenants, till the soil,
The joys that freemen find in rural toil?
In what blest spot, through all terraqueous space,
Exists a hardier or a happier race?
Ye bid your glebes with future germs rejoice,
And seeds that sleep inhum'd strait hear your voice.
How change the prospects at your blithe command!
Where weeds and brambles stood now flowrets stand.
How blooms the dell, as spreads the rippling rill,
While mottled cattle top the moving hill!
Bid marshall'd maize the tassell'd flag unfold,
And wheat-ears barb their glistening spears with gold:
In northern plains the orchard's produce glow,
Or with its beverage pure the press o'erflow:
In southern climes, beneath a fervid sky,
Savannas, green with rice, refresh the eye;
There, from th' adopted stranger-tree, despoil
The branch that cheers for peace, the fruit with oil.
O'er fens, reform'd, let verdant grass succeed
The blue-ting'd indigo—pestiferous weed!
Where dun, hoed fields, afford subsistence scant
For those who tend Tobago's luxury plant,
Bid other crops with brighter hues be crown'd,
And herb for beast, and bread for man abound.
With little fingers let the children cull,
Like flakes of snow, the vegetable wool;
Or nurse the chrysalis with mulberry leaves,
The worm whose silk the curious artist weaves:
Let buzzing bees display the winnowing wing,
Seek freshest flowers, and rifle all the spring:
Let brimming pails beside the heifers stand,
With milk and honey flow the happy land;
And turn the wildest growth to human use,
Ambrosial sugar find from maple-juice!
Thou, dulcet tree, imbue the flowing song
With thy distilling drops, untried too long!
Thee, dancing round in many a mazy ring,
The rustic youths and sylvan maids shall sing.
In sacch'rine streams thou pour'st the tide of life,
Yet grow'st still stronger from th' innocuous knife;
Thy sap, more sweet than Hybla's honey, flows,
Health for the heart-sick—cure of slavery's woes—
Then, as th' unfailing source, balsamic, runs,
Dispense that cordial, hope, for Afric's sons!
Oh, could my song impressive horror bring,
Of conscious guilt th' insufferable sting;
From eyes untaught to weep the tear should start,
And mercy melt the long obdur'd of heart.
See naked negroes rear the sugar'd reeds!
Behold! their flesh beneath their driver bleeds!
And hear their heart-heav'd groans! then say, how good,
How sweet, the dainties drugg'd with human blood!
Though night's dark shades o'ercast th' ill-favour'd race,
Nor transient flushes change the vacant face;
Though nature ne'er transforms their woolly hair
To golden ringlets, elegantly fair!
Yet has not God infus'd immortal powers,
The same their organs and their souls as ours?
Are they not made to ruminate the sky?
Or must they perish like the beasts that die?
Perish the thought that men's high worth impairs,
Sons of Omnipotence, and glory's heirs!
Come, ye who love the human race divine,
Their bleeding bosoms bathe with oil and wine,
Bind up their wounds—then bless the dulcet tree,
Whose substituted sweets one slave may free;
Till new discoveries more man's wrath assuage,
And heav'n restrain the remnant of his rage.
Thou, slavery, (maledictions blast thy name!)
Fell scourge of mortals, reason's foulest shame!
Fly, fiend infernal! to thy Stygean shore,
And let thy deeds defile my song no more.
Heav'ns! still must men, like beasts, be bought and sold,
The charities of life exchang'd for gold!
Husbands from wives, from parents children torn,
In quivering fear, with grief exquisite, mourn!
No, soon shall commerce, better understood,
With happier freight promote the mutual good.
As fed by snows of winter, show'rs of spring,
Whate'er the seasons in succession bring;
What summer ripens and what autumn yields,
Th' immeasurable growth of fertile fields!
Our rapid fleets to realms that want convey,
And new-born stars in wond'ring skies display.
Ev'n now innumerous ships, their flags unfurl'd,
With flying canvass cloud the wat'ry world;
Commercing, steer beneath the burning line,
Near icy mountains, on the polar brine;
From cheerless cliffs, where not a blossom blows,
Whose wild craggs whiten in eternal snows,
To where the smooth Pacific Ocean smiles,
Cheer'd by the fragrance of the spicy isles.
Not thus enervate nations tempt the seas,
By luxury lull'd in soft voluptuous ease;
Thence sloth begets servility of soul,
Degrades each part, contaminates the whole;
And taints in torpid veins the thickening blood,
Like the green mantle on a mire of mud.
Where convents deal the poor their daily broth,
See charity herself encourage sloth!
Though helpless some, more lazy join the troop,
And healthful beggars swell the shameless groupe.
Will heav'n benignant on those nations smile,
Where sloth and vice are less disgrace than toil?
With opiates drunk, in indolence reclin'd,
Unbrac'd their sinews, and debauch'd their mind,
Can crowds, turn'd cowards, self-esteem retain,
Or long unspoil'd of freedom's gifts remain?
'Tis by the lofty purpose, desperate deed,
Of men who dare for liberty to bleed,
By long endurance, fields with crimson stain'd,
That independence won, must be maintain'd.
Where art thou, Athens! thy high spirit lost!
Where, Sparta! that defied all Asia's host!
And where (in dust her mould'ring trophies hurl'd)
Imperial Rome, the mistress of the world!
How Lusitania, queen of diamond mines,
(Her glorious Gamas dead) a widow pines!
And will not grave Iberia learn, at length,
In toil, not gold, consists a nation's strength?
How long shall empires feel, destructive sloth!
Thy cank'ring breath, that checks and kills their growth?
If sloth to dissolution yields the prey,
Take but the cause, we take th' effect away.
Sages, conven'd from delegating states,
Who bear the charge of unborn millions' fates;
From early systems states their habits take,
And morals more than climes a difference make:
Then give to toil a bias, aid his cause
With all the force and majesty of laws;
So shall for you long generations raise,
The sweetest incense of unpurchas'd praise!
Thou, Washington, by heav'n for triumphs nurs'd,
In war, in peace, of much lov'd mortals first!
In public as in private life benign,
Still be the people heav'n's own care and thine!
While thou presid'st, in useful arts direct,
Create new fabrics and the old protect.
Lo! at thy word, subdued for wond'ring man,
What mighty elements advance the plan;
While fire and wind obey the Master's call,
And water labours in his forceful fall!
Teach tiny hands with engin'ry to toil,
Cause failing age o'er easy tasks to smile;
Thyself that best of offices perform,
The hungry nourish and the naked warm;
With gladness picture rescued beauty's eye,
And cheek with health's inimitable dye;
So shall the young, the feeble find employ,
And hearts with grief o'erwhelm'd emerge to joy.
First let the loom each lib'ral thought engage,
Its labours growing with the growing age;
Then true utility with taste allied,
Shall make our homespun garbs our nation's pride.
See wool, the boast of Britain's proudest hour,
Is still the basis of her wealth and pow'r!
From her the nations wait their wintry robe,
Round half this idle, poor, dependant globe.
Shall we, who foil'd her sons in fields of fame,
In peace add noblest triumphs to her name?
Shall we, who dar'd assert the rights of man,
Become the vassals of her wiser plan?
Then, rous'd from lethargies—up! men! increase,
In every vale, on every hill, the fleece!
And see the fold, with thousands teeming, fills
With flocks the bleating vales and echoing hills.
Ye harmless people! man your young will tend,
While ye for him your coats superfluous lend.
Him nature form'd with curious pride, while bare,
To fence with finery from the piercing air:
This fleece shall draw its azure from the sky,
This drink the purple, that the scarlet dye;
Another, where immingling hues are giv'n,
Shall mock the bow with colours dipt in heav'n:
Not guarded Colchis gave admiring Greece
So rich a treasure in its golden fleece.
Oh, might my guidance from the downs of Spain,
Lead a white flock across the western main;
Fam'd like the bark that bore the Argonaut,
Should be the vessel with the burden fraught!
Clad in the raiment my Merinos yield,
Like Cincinnatus fed from my own field;
Far from ambition, grandeur, care and strife,
In sweet fruition of domestic life;
There would I pass with friends, beneath my trees,
What rests from public life, in letter'd ease.
To toil encourag'd, free from tythe and tax,
Ye farmers sow your fields with hemp and flax:
Let these the distaff for the web supply,
Spin on the spool, or with the shuttle fly.
But what vile cause retards the public plan?
Why fail the fabrics patriot zeal began?
Must nought but tombs of industry be found,
Prostrated arts expiring on the ground?
Shall we, of gewgaws gleaning half the globe,
Disgrace our country with a foreign robe?
Forbid it int'rest, independence, shame,
And blush that kindles bright at honour's flame!
Should peace, like sorcery, with her spells controul
Our innate springs and energies of soul;
To you, Columbian dames! my accents call,
Oh, save your country from the threaten'd fall!
Will ye, blest fair! adopt from every zone
Fantastic fashions, noxious in your own?
At wintry balls in gauzy garments drest,
Admit the dire destroyer in your breast?
Oft when nocturnal sports your visage flush,
As gay and heedless to the halls ye rush,
Then death your doom prepares: cough, fever, rheum,
And pale consumption nip your rosy bloom.
Hence many a flow'r in beauty's damask pride,
Wither'd, at morn, has droop'd its head and died.
While youthful crimson hurries through your veins,
No cynic bard from licit joys restrains;
Or bids with nature hold unequal strife,
And still go sorrowing through the road of life.
Nor deem him hostile who of danger warns,
Who leaves the rose, but plucks away its thorns.
In our new world not birth and proud pretence,
Your sex from skill in household cares dispense.
Yet those where fortune smiles, whom fancy warms,
May paint historic or ideal forms;
Teach the fair flow'r on lucid lawn to spring,
The lute to languish or the tongue to sing.
With letters, arts, botanic, chemic skill,
Some shall their leisure hours delighted fill;
While some, for studies more sublime design'd,
Expatiate freely o'er the world of mind:
Another class on boldest wing shall soar,
The wand'ring stars and ways of heav'n explore;
Still skill'd not less in captivating arts,
To move our passions and to mend our hearts.
While tiptoe spirits buoy each graceful limb,
See down the dance the lovely fair-one swim;
Her own neat needle-work improves her bloom,
Cloth'd in the labours of Columbia's loom:
Her lover sees express'd upon her face,
Angelic goodness, loveliness and grace;
And hopes, in bridal bow'rs, to meet those charms,
Bliss to his soul and rapture in her arms!
Then, oh, ye fair! refin'd each grosser sense,
'Gainst delicacy shun the least offence.
What though not call'd to mix in cares of state,
To brave the storm of battle or debate;
Yet in our revolution greatly brave,
What high examples to our sex ye gave?
And still 'tis yours with secret, soft controul,
To hold a gentler empire o'er the soul;
In polish'd states to make, with sweet behest,
The hero happy and the patriot blest;
To charm their anxious hours with cheering smiles,
Relieve their suff'rings and reward their toils.
And are there men, with civil bliss at strife,
Who lavish wanton praise on savage life?
Is licence freedom? Can the general good
Bid each barbarian quench revenge in blood?
While wrongs, ev'n fancied, set his soul on fire,
Can judgment cool unite with burning ire?
Or numb'd in apathy, can that alone
Afford the fond endearments I have known?
See the rude Indian, reason's dictates braves,
And treats the females as his abject slaves:
He, round his hearth, no circle calls, at ev'n,
To share the sweetest pleasures under heav'n.
Regard yon desert, dark and drear, where roam
Hordes who ne'er knew a comfortable home:
On them no peaceful arts their influence shed,
But fierce as panthers on the mountains bred,
They prowl for prey. For them the hunted wood
Now yields redundant, now penurious food—
Regorg'd or famish'd oft—a miscreant crew—
If few their wants, their comforts still more few!
Ah! when will virtue's evangelic flame
The frigid wildness of their tempers tame?
Till that bright hour, no hope beyond the sky—
Forlorn they live, and like the brute they die!
Of savage life so spring the bitter fruits,
For savage indolence the man imbrutes.
From industry the sinews strength acquire,
The limbs expand, the bosom feels new fire.
Unwearied industry pervades the whole,
Nor lends more force to body than to soul.
Hence character is form'd, and hence proceeds
Th' enlivening heat that fires to daring deeds:
Then animation bids the spirit warm,
Soar in the whirlwind and enjoy the storm.
For our brave tars what clime too warm, too cold,
What toil too hardy, or what task too bold?
O'er storm-vex'd waves our vent'rous vessels roll,
Round artic isles or near th' antartic pole;
Nor fear their crews the fell tornado's ire,
Wrapp'd in a deluge of Caribbean fire.
The wonders of the deep they see, while tost
From earth's warm girdle to the climes of frost:
Full soon to bid the battle's thunder roar,
And guard with wooden walls their native shore.
What like rough effort fortifies each part,
With steel the limbs and adamant the heart!
What gives our seamen steadiness of soul,
When bursting thunders rend the redd'ning pole,
When down the black'ning clouds, in streams that bend
Athwart the tall shrouds, livid fires descend,
When howling winds in wild gyrations fly,
And night sits frantic on the scowling sky?
What makes the patriot scorn the menac'd blow,
His courage rising as the dangers grow!
What bade our bands—to shield the commonweal—
Bare their bold bosoms to the lifted steel;
What time Virginia's light, with steady ray,
Led through the darksome gloom our desp'rate way;
When Britain, like a night-storm, hovering, hurl'd
The red-wing'd vengeance on the western world!
Lo! in that western world how chang'd the scene!
There peace now shines uncloudedly serene;
While, red with gore, through Europe's realms afar,
Sails the dread storm of desolating war.
In Lusitania's clime, while we behold
The orange gleam with vegetating gold;
Where buds and fruits in gay confusion join,
And the glad vintage purples on the vine;
Where sleeps on beds of rose the moon-light calm,
Honey'd the dew and steep'd the air in balm!
Where wild-heath blooms perfume the passing gales,
And Tagus whitens with unnumber'd sails;
Say, shares my friend, my fond desires that rise
For distant scenes beneath the western skies?
Say, canst thou love those scenes in lonely pride,
The beauteous shores that bound th' Atlantic tide;
Where hills and vales, and villages and farms,
In lovely landscapes blend their mingled charms?
Me, languid long, new ardour fires at length,
(With thee my soul collecting all her strength)
New raptures seize, with patriot pride elate,
To sing the charms that grace my native state.
Hail favour'd state! Connecticut! thy name
Uncouth in song, too long conceal'd from fame;
If yet thy filial bards the gloom can pierce,
Shall rise and flourish in immortal verse.
Inventive genius, imitative pow'rs,
And, still more precious, common-sense, is ours;
While knowledge useful, more than science grand,
In rivulets still o'erspreads the smiling land.
Hail, model of free states! too little known,
Too lightly priz'd for rural arts alone:
Yet hence from savage, social life began,
Compacts were fram'd and man grew mild to man.
Thee, Agriculture! source of every joy,
Domestic sweets and bliss without alloy;
Thee, friend of freedom, independence, worth,
What raptur'd song can set conspicuous forth?
Thine every grateful gift, my native soil!
That ceaseless comes from agricultural toil:
This bids thee, dress'd, with added charms appear,
And crowns with glories, not its own, the year.
Though, capp'd with cliffs of flint, thy surface rude,
And stubborn glebe the slothful race exclude;
Though sultry summer parch thy gaping plains,
Or chilling winter bind in icy chains;
Thy patient sons, prepar'd for tasks sublime,
Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime,
Clothe arid earth in green, for glooms supply
The brightest beauties to th' astonish'd eye.
What though for us no fields Arcadian bloom,
Nor tropic shrubs diffuse a glad perfume;
No fairy regions picturesque with flow'rs,
Elysian groves, or amaranthine bow'rs,
Breathe sweet enchantment—but still fairer smile,
Once savage wilds now tam'd by tut'ring toil.
The rolling seasons saw with rapture strange,
The desert blossom and the climate change.
Roll on, thou sun! and bring the prospect bright,
Before our ravish'd view in liveliest light.
Arise in vernal pride, ye virgin plains!
With winning features which no fiction feigns.
Arise, ye laughing lawns! ye gladd'ning glades!
Poetic banks! and philosophic shades!
Awake, ye meads! your bosoms ope, ye flow'rs!
Exult, oh earth! and heav'n descend in show'rs!
Where the dun forest's thickest foliage frown'd,
And night and horror brooded o'er the ground;
While matted boughs impenetrably wove
The sable curtains of th' impervious grove;
Where the swart savage fix'd his short abode,
Or wound through tangled wilds his thorny road;
Where the gaunt wolves from crag-roof'd caverns prowl'd,
And mountains echoed as the monsters howl'd;
Where putrid marshes felt no solar beams,
And mantling mire exhal'd mephitic steams;
See, mid the rocks, a Paradise arise,
That feels the fostering warmth of genial skies!
While gurgling currents lull th' enchanted soil,
The hill-tops brighten and the dingles smile.
Then hail for us, ye transatlantic scenes,
Soul-soothing dwellings! sight-refreshing greens!
And chiefly hail, thou state! where virtue reigns,
And peace and plenty crown the cultur'd plains.
Nor lacks there aught to soothe the pensive mind,
Its taste on nature form'd, by truth refin'd:
For pure simplicity can touch the heart,
Beyond the glitter and the gloss of art.
Not wanting there the fountain's bubbling tide,
Whence flows the narrow stream and river wide,
With gladsome wave to drench the thirsty dale,
Or waft through wond'ring woods the flitting sail.
Not wanting there the cottage white-wash'd clean,
Nor town with spires that glimmer o'er the green:
Nor rich variety's uncloying charm,
The steeds that prance, the herds that graze the farm;
The flocks that gambol o'er the dark-green hills,
The tumbling brooks that turn the busy mills;
The clover pastures deck'd with dappled flow'rs,
Spontaneous; gardens gay with roseate bow'rs;
The tedded grass in meadows newly shorn,
The pensile wheat-heads and stiff Indian corn;
The grafts with tempting fruit, and thick-leav'd groves,
Where timid birds conceal their airy loves;
Along th' umbrageous walk, enamour'd meet
The artless pairs, in courtship chaste as sweet,
In wedlock soon to join—hail, sacred rite!
Delicious spring! exhaustless of delight!
No poor, for wealth withheld, accuses heav'n,
Nor rich, insulting, spurns the bounties giv'n.
No wretched outcast—happy, till beguil'd—
Pollution's sister, and affliction's child!
Shivering and darkling strays through wintry streets,
And lures (for bread) to brothels all she meets;
Or tir'd and sick, with faint and fearful cry,
At her betrayer's door lies down to die.
No scenes of woe the pleasing prospect blight,
And no disgusting object pains the sight;
For calm content, the sunshine of the soul,
With bright'ning ease, embellishes the whole.
'Tis rural innocence, with rural toll,
Can change the frown of fortune to a smile.
Ah, let the sons of insolence deride
The simple joys by humble toil supplied:
Not him whose breast with false refinement pants,
Factitious pleasures, artificial wants,
Such scenes delight—nor boasts that state a claim,
For man's or nature's grandest works, to fame.
Of life sequester'd, fond and frequent theme!
Th'instructed few with higher reverence deem:
For o'er its moral part a lustre shines,
That all around enlivens and refines.
'Twas there the joys of wedded love began,
And health and happiness there dwelt with man:
The city's palaces though man has made,
The country's charming views a God display'd—
Still the best site from art derives new charms,
In villas fair and ornamented farms.
There, while our freemen share thy blessings, health!
In that blest mean dividing want from wealth;
How sweet their food appears! how lightsome seems
Their daily labour! and how bright their dreams!
Not inexpert to till or guard their farms,
Patient in toil, but terrible in arms,
When stung by wrong, and fir'd with patriot rage,
They in the battle's brunt with hosts engage!
What Rome, once virtuous, saw, this gives us now—
Heroes and statesmen, awful from the plough.
And ye, compatriots! who for freedom fought,
Preserve that prize your toil and blood have bought.
(Fraternal troop long tried by storms of fate,
Surviving soldiers of my native state,
From me your cherish'd image ne'er shall part,
'Till death's cold hand shall wring it from my heart!)
Heav'ns! how your fields were heap'd with kindred slain,
While many a stream ran crimson to the main!
Where a new Thames distain'd with carnage flow'd,
How the sea redden'd to receive the load?
How Danb'ry's burning turrets dimm'd the day,
How Fairfield, Norwalk, dark in ashes lay?
Ye tearless saw your coasts to deserts turn'd,
Your substance pillag'd, and your buildings burn'd;
Your flocks and herds become th' invaders' spoil,
And the fair harvest ravish'd from the soil.
Ye saw th' infuriate foe, with impious ire,
Consume Jehovah's hallow'd fanes in fire.
What Gothic rage assail'd the muses' seat,
And hunted science in her lov'd retreat?
Her very porch with vital purple stain'd,
Her courts polluted and her shrine prophan'd!
'Twas then th' obstrep'rous drum, th' ear-tinkling fife,
Pierc'd the still shades of academic life;
There Tryon left on ruins, mark'd with flame,
A dread memorial of his hated name.
But, lo! what present growth exceeds the past,
While population adds improvements vast;
For population doubles still our force,
Ere thrice eight annual suns complete their course.
How teems the fresh mould with luxuriant green!
There, not a vestige of the war is seen;
And ev'n late blazing towns that blush'd with gore,
Smile brighter far and lovelier than before.
Not so for man will life's once faded spring,
Return more sweet and fairer blossoms bring.
No more will friendship's buried hopes return!
Say, mem'ry! mourning o'er each hero's urn,
Where now the dreams that cheer'd my youth in vain,
And where my youthful friends in battle slain?
See, vernal blooms, as soon as born, decay,
And each wing'd moment bear some flow'r away!
So fly the years that charm'd in early life,
So fade the laurels won in martial strife.
Ye vanish'd scenes! ye visionary toys!
Delusive hopes! and transitory joys!
Adieu!—but, virtue! cheer our little lives,—
For, from the wreck, religion still survives.
Religious zeal our ancestors that warm'd,
With passions cool'd, their temp'rate habits form'd:
Hence in that state is seen (sight passing strange!)
Choice free and frequent, yet no lust of change.
The foreigner admires of bliss the cause,
In fair elections and the reign of laws;
And joys to find on shores long waste and wild,
A race in manners undebauch'd, yet mild;
Between too rude and polish'd life, a stage
That claims new actors for a golden age.
Such sober habits industry prepares,
And order guarantees for freedom's heirs.
Say, in what state, so soon imbib'd the youth
Th' eternal principles of right and truth?
Where education such instruction spread?
Where on the mind such influence morals shed?
Where modesty with charms so fair appear'd?
So honour'd age, and virtue so rever'd?
Thou fount of learning where I drank, thou Yale!
Fount of religion and of knowledge, hail!
There, happy parents! bid our thirsting youth
Quaff copious immortality and truth;
While Dwight, with soaring soul, directs their way
To the full well of life, in climes of endless day.
Rejoice in strength of youth! rejoice, sweet band!
To rise the hope and glory of our land.
First shall the legates in th' Almighty's name,
Like seers whose lips were touch'd with living flame,
Announce the WORD from HEAV'N sublime, refin'd,
And bring mild consolations to the mind;
Of future being the glad tidings bear,
And God's high will with holy zeal declare!
Ye champions, prompt to check the course of fate,
And give man's days their longest, healthiest date;
Go forth, the sick-man's sleepy couch to smooth,
With potent drugs the pang of anguish soothe;
The dart of death avert—his victim save—
And rescue thousands from th' untimely grave!
For this, from nature's mixture, chemic art
Extracts the healing from the pois'nous part.
And where our woods contain salubrious pow'rs,
In life-prolonging roots, and barks, and flow'rs;
Ye botanists! with sapient toil explore
Our continent's interminable store,—
A boundless field! ne'er view'd by human eye,
Where vegetation lives alone to die.
There search the sylvan world with eager view,
And call by name each plant that sips the dew;
From the proud pine, his lofty head who shrouds
In misty regions mid condensing clouds,
To tufted shrubs and gadding vines that crawl,
Or humble hyssop springing by the wall.
Ye advocates for justice thence proceed,
With pow'rful voice for innocence to plead;
Not warp'd by favour, flatt'ry, gold or awe,
The firm support and ornament of law!
Hence oft elect from your enlighten'd band,
Judges and senators shall rule the land.
With fancy vivid as with judgment strong,
Our pride in genius, as our first in song,
Thy intellectual stores, blest Dwight! impart,
And taste correct for every finer art:
Bid wisdom's higher lore with ethics giv'n,
For greatness form the race, belov'd of heav'n:
Bring to their breasts her energies divine,
The grovelling thought to raise, the gross refine!
Bid bards melodious charm the listening throng,
Thrill'd with the raptures of ecstatic song;
Bid, while the spark of animation warms,
Imagination body finest forms;
Creative artists paint our martial strife,
And wake the slumb'ring marble into life!
Or should the hollow brass be heard to roar,
And hostile navies hover round our shore,
Then bid our youth along th' extended coast,
Their country's bulwark, and their country's boast,
Horrent in arms, an iron rampart stand,
To shield from foes th' inviolable land!
Ere ye begin to tread life's wider stage,
In manhood's prime, dear, interesting age!
Attend a time-taught bard, to toils inur'd,
With those bold chiefs whose blood your rights secur'd:
Ye junior patriots, listen! learn, my friends!
How much your lot on industry depends:
For God, a God of order, ne'er design'd
Equal conditions for the human kind.
Equality of rights your bliss maintains,
While law protects what honest labour gains.
Your great exertions by restraint uncheck'd,
Your gen'rous heat undamp'd by cold neglect;
The wide career for freemen open lies,
Where wealth, and pow'r, and honour yield the prize.
Yet should dark discord's clouds your land o'ercast,
Lost is your freedom and your empire past.
Be union yours! To guard your union, heav'n
The general government, in trust, has giv'n:
Then, when ere long your fathers sleep in dust,
Preserve, like vestal fire, that sacred TRUST!