 | The Last Poems of Philip Freneau |  |
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General De la Fayette On His Expected Visit to America
To you, Fayette, in fair Auvergne,
The muses would their homage pay;
Where yet, with deep regret, they learn,
You pass life's closing day:
Of the great actors on our stage,
Of warrior, patriot, statesman, sage,
How few remain, how few remain!
Among the first, you claim esteem,
The historian's and the poet's theme.
The muses would their homage pay;
Where yet, with deep regret, they learn,
You pass life's closing day:
Of the great actors on our stage,
Of warrior, patriot, statesman, sage,
How few remain, how few remain!
Among the first, you claim esteem,
The historian's and the poet's theme.
May these bold waves that lash the shore,
Succeeded by ten thousand more,
Bring on their surge that man from France,
Who, like some hero in romance,
Came here, our early wars to aid,
And here unsheath'd the martial blade.
Succeeded by ten thousand more,
Bring on their surge that man from France,
Who, like some hero in romance,
Came here, our early wars to aid,
And here unsheath'd the martial blade.
In such a task might gods engage—
Then, all was doubtful, all was rage,
And civil discord, at its height,
Lent wings, to speed the fiends of night:
Then was the time to work their shame,
Whom none but Washington could tame.
Then, all was doubtful, all was rage,
And civil discord, at its height,
Lent wings, to speed the fiends of night:
Then was the time to work their shame,
Whom none but Washington could tame.
With far-famed chiefs and high bred lords,
In prime of youth you measured swords:
At those, who aw'd a trembling world,
Your dart was aim'd, your spear was hurl'd,
Nor ceas'd your ardor, when from high,
The tempest of the times went by:
In prime of youth you measured swords:
At those, who aw'd a trembling world,
Your dart was aim'd, your spear was hurl'd,
Nor ceas'd your ardor, when from high,
The tempest of the times went by:
Your efforts, added to our own,
And greatest, still, when most alone,
Gave spirit to our brilliant cause,
Saved thousands from the Lion's jaws,
And lent us when Cornwallis fell,
Assurance firm, that ALL WAS WELL.
And greatest, still, when most alone,
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Saved thousands from the Lion's jaws,
And lent us when Cornwallis fell,
Assurance firm, that ALL WAS WELL.
Your conflicts with a foreign band;
Who scour'd the seas and scourg'd the land,
At this late hour, we may renew,
And own with pride, and wonder too,
That such a man, in such dark days,
Soar'd far above all human praise.
Who scour'd the seas and scourg'd the land,
At this late hour, we may renew,
And own with pride, and wonder too,
That such a man, in such dark days,
Soar'd far above all human praise.
I see him with an eagle's speed,
Fly, to be where the bravest bleed,
I see him through Virginia chase
The legions of a hostile race,
Who, proudly bent on vast designs,
Sent navys here—to guard their lines!
Fly, to be where the bravest bleed,
I see him through Virginia chase
The legions of a hostile race,
Who, proudly bent on vast designs,
Sent navys here—to guard their lines!
Where'er they march'd, where'er they met,
They found it death to face Fayette;
Where'er they fought where'er they flew,
Their prowess fail'd, their danger grew:—
A traitor's aid they poorly priz'd,
Abhorr'd, detested, and despis'd.
They found it death to face Fayette;
Where'er they fought where'er they flew,
Their prowess fail'd, their danger grew:—
A traitor's aid they poorly priz'd,
Abhorr'd, detested, and despis'd.
Approach! appear that welcome day,
That sees the Marquis on his way;
Some ship, with ev'ry sail unfurl'd,
Parading o'er the watery world;
While lesser barques, in fleets, advance,
To hail her from her briny dance;
When from these shores we shall descry
Columbia's banner, streaming high,
And there in golden letters placed
A NAME, by ages undefaced;—
And here be fixed his last retreat,
And here be all his hopes complete:—
May he his native France forget
For the adopted country of fayette.
That sees the Marquis on his way;
Some ship, with ev'ry sail unfurl'd,
Parading o'er the watery world;
While lesser barques, in fleets, advance,
To hail her from her briny dance;
When from these shores we shall descry
Columbia's banner, streaming high,
And there in golden letters placed
A NAME, by ages undefaced;—
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And here be all his hopes complete:—
May he his native France forget
For the adopted country of fayette.
| The Last Poems of Philip Freneau | |