 | Poems of Freneau |  |
THE ARGONAUT;
or, Lost Adventurer
True to his trade—the slave of fortune still—
In a sweet isle, where never winter reigns,
I found him at the foot of a tall hill,
Mending old sails, and chewing sugar canes:
Pale ivy round him grew, and mingled vines,
Plaintains, bananas ripe, and yellow pines.
In a sweet isle, where never winter reigns,
I found him at the foot of a tall hill,
Mending old sails, and chewing sugar canes:
Pale ivy round him grew, and mingled vines,
Plaintains, bananas ripe, and yellow pines.
And flowering night-shade, with its dismal green,
Ash-coloured iris, painted by the sun,
And fair-haired hyacinth was near him seen,
And China pinks by marygolds o'er-run:—
“But what (said he) have men that sail the seas,
“Ah, what have they to do with things like these!
Ash-coloured iris, painted by the sun,
And fair-haired hyacinth was near him seen,
And China pinks by marygolds o'er-run:—
“But what (said he) have men that sail the seas,
“Ah, what have they to do with things like these!
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“I did not wish to leave those shades, not I,
“Where Amoranda turns her spinning-wheel;
“Charmed with the shallow stream, that murmured by,
“I felt as blest as any swain could feel,
“Who, seeking nothing that the world admires,
“On one poor valley fixed his whole desires.
“Where Amoranda turns her spinning-wheel;
“Charmed with the shallow stream, that murmured by,
“I felt as blest as any swain could feel,
“Who, seeking nothing that the world admires,
“On one poor valley fixed his whole desires.
“With masts so trim, and sails as white as snow,
“The painted barque deceived me from the land,
“Pleased, on her sea-beat decks I wished to go,
“Mingling my labours with her hardy band;
“To reef the sail, to guide the foaming prow
“As far as winds can waft, or oceans flow.
“The painted barque deceived me from the land,
“Pleased, on her sea-beat decks I wished to go,
“Mingling my labours with her hardy band;
“To reef the sail, to guide the foaming prow
“As far as winds can waft, or oceans flow.
“To combat with the waves who first essayed,
“Had these gay groves his lightsome heart beguiled,
“His heart, attracted by the charming shade,
“Had changed the deep sea for the woody wild;
“And slighted all the gain that Neptune yields
“For Damon's cottage, or Palemon's fields.
“Had these gay groves his lightsome heart beguiled,
“His heart, attracted by the charming shade,
“Had changed the deep sea for the woody wild;
“And slighted all the gain that Neptune yields
“For Damon's cottage, or Palemon's fields.
“His barque, the bearer of a feeble crew,
“How could he trust when none had been to prove her;
“Courage might sink when lands and shores withdrew,
“And feeble hearts a thousand deaths discover:
“But Fortitude, tho' woes and death await,
“Still views bright skies, and leaves the dark to fate.
“How could he trust when none had been to prove her;
“Courage might sink when lands and shores withdrew,
“And feeble hearts a thousand deaths discover:
“But Fortitude, tho' woes and death await,
“Still views bright skies, and leaves the dark to fate.
“From monkey climes where limes and lemons grow,
“And the sweet orange swells her fruit so fair,
“To wintry worlds, with heavy heart, I go
“To face the cold glance of the northern bear,
“Where lonely waves, far distant from the sun,
“And gulphs, of mighty strength, their circuits run.
“And the sweet orange swells her fruit so fair,
“To wintry worlds, with heavy heart, I go
“To face the cold glance of the northern bear,
“Where lonely waves, far distant from the sun,
“And gulphs, of mighty strength, their circuits run.
“But how disheartening is the wanderer's fate!
“When conquered by the loud tempestuous main,
“On him, no mourners in procession wait,
“Nor do the sisters of the harp complain.—
“On coral beds and deluged sands they sleep,
“Who sink in storms, and mingle with the deep.
“When conquered by the loud tempestuous main,
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“Nor do the sisters of the harp complain.—
“On coral beds and deluged sands they sleep,
“Who sink in storms, and mingle with the deep.
“'Tis folly all—and who can truly tell
“What storms disturb the bosom of that main,
“What ravenous fish in those dark climates dwell
“That feast on men—then stay, my gentle swain!
“Bred in yon' happy shades, be happy there,
“And let these quiet groves claim all your care.”
“What storms disturb the bosom of that main,
“What ravenous fish in those dark climates dwell
“That feast on men—then stay, my gentle swain!
“Bred in yon' happy shades, be happy there,
“And let these quiet groves claim all your care.”
So spoke poor RALPH, and with a smooth sea gale
Fled from the magic of the enchanting shore,
But whether winds or waters did prevail
I saw the black ship ne'er returning more,
Though long I walked the margin of the main,
And long have looked—and still must look in vain!
Fled from the magic of the enchanting shore,
But whether winds or waters did prevail
I saw the black ship ne'er returning more,
Though long I walked the margin of the main,
And long have looked—and still must look in vain!
1788
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