University of Virginia Library

NEW YORK.

Hail! happy city! where the arts convene
And busy commerce animates the scene;
Where taste, and elegance, with wealth combine,
To perfect art, in every bright design;
Where splendid mansions that attract the eye,
Can boast, what opulence could never buy,
The generous wish that springs to Virtue's goal,
The liberal mind, the high, aspiring soul;
The freeborn wish that warms the patriot's breast,
The chaste refinements that make beauty blest:
These are the charms that give Industry, here,
A pleasing relish, and a hope sincere;
And while they bid the sighs of anguish cease,
Strew Labor's pillow with the flowers of peace.

272

When the sad exile, freed from ocean's storm,
First treads our shore, what hopes his bosom warm!
For welcome meets him with an honest smile,
And kind attentions every care beguile.
No dread of tyrants here his peace annoys,
No fears of fetters mar his bosom's joys;
No dark suspicions on his steps attend,
He only needs one, here, to find a friend;
He finds, at once, a refuge and a home,
Nor longer mourns the cause that bade him roam.
Where'er he turns, on every side are traced
The marks of genius, and enlightened taste;
He sees in every portico and dome,
The architectural grace of Greece and Rome;
And finds, in our unrivalled promenades,
Charms that may vie with Athen's classic shades.
That rural scene that skirts the loveliest bay
That ever sparkled in the solar ray;
Where the rude engines of relentless Mars,
Once frowned, in ranks, beneath Columbia's stars,
But which have since for ever yielded place
To fashion, beauty, elegance, and grace—
That lovely scene first greets the wanderer's eye,
And cheats his bosom of a passing sigh,
So like some spots upon his native shore,
By him, perhaps, to be enjoyed no more!

273

On either hand, a mighty river glides,
Which here, at length, unite and mingle tides,
Like some fond pair, affianced in the skies,
Whose forms, as yet, ne'er met each other's eyes,
When the auspicious fated moment rolls,
They meet—they love—unite, and mingle souls.
Magnific piles, the monuments of art,
And lofty spires, adorn this splendid mart,
Where Piety erects her sacred shrine,
And pays her homage to the power divine;
Where heaven-born “genius wings his eagle flight,
Rich dew-drops shaking from his wings of light;”
Where Science opens wide his boundless store
Of classic sweets and antiquated lore;
Where freedom, virtue, knowledge, all unite
To make the scene an Eden of delight;
While pulpit, press, and bar, are all combined
To mend the heart, and elevate the mind.
Nor do these mighty engines toil alone,
By other hands the seeds of taste are sown.
The Drama opes its bright, instructive scenes;
Its object use—amusement but the means:
For though the muse resort to fiction's aid,
Fiction is here, but truth in masquerade,
And thousands, who her grave entreaties shun,
Are, by her borrowed smiles, allured and won.