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University of Virginia Library

The miscellaneous works of David Humphreys

Late Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States of America to the Court of Madrid

Humphreys, David (1752-1818)

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ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

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A POEM ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA.

PREFACE TO THE NINTH EDITION OF THE POEM ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA.

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A POEM ON THE FUTURE GLORY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

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

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE REGENT OF PORTUGAL.

ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

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A POEM ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. IN CELEBRATION OF THE TWENTY-THIRD ANNIVERSARY OF THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

TO HIS MAJESTY LOUIS, KING OF ETRURIA, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF PARMA, INFANT OF SPAIN, &c. &c. &c.

ORIGINAL PREFACE On the first Publication of the two following Poems, which were written when the Author was Minister in Spain.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

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A POEM ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL WASHINGTON.

TO Mrs. WASHINGTON, At Mount-Vernon.

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OCCASIONAL POEMS.

ELEGY ON THE BURNING OF FAIRFIELD, IN CONNECTICUT.

ELEGY ON LIEUTENANT DE HART,

AN EPITAPH. ALEXANDER SCAMMEL,

A LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY IN BOSTON,

AN EPITHALAMIUM.

ALEXANDER's FEAST, OR THE POWER OF MUSIC:

AN EPISTLE TO DR. DWIGHT.

THE GENIUS OF AMERICA.

PROLOGUE TO THE WIDOW OF MALABAR:

EPILOGUE TO THE WIDOW OF MALABAR.

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FAREWELL, FROM THE ABBE O'MOORE, ADDRESSED TO THE HONOURABLE DAVID HUMPHREYS,

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104

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.

This, it is wished, may be received as a useful warning by young persons against exposing themselves, when too thinly clad, to the winter air. Many deaths have been occasioned by imprudencies of this nature.