My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | ||
STANZAS TO AARON BURR.
LATE VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. NOW UNDER IMPRISONMENT, AND TRIAL FOR HIGH TREASON. WRITTEN WHILE THE TRIAL WAS PENDING, BUT NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.
Whose deeds a million hearts appal;
Thy fate shall pity's eye deplore,
Or vengeance for thy ruin call.
Seems as a leaf the gales defy,
Though scattered in sedition's storm,
Yet borne by glorious hope on high.
And such does Europe's scourge
Napoleon Bonaparte, at that period the scourge and destroyer of southern Europe.
The following, extracted from a recently published work, has only to substitute the name of Napoleon Bonaparte for that of the Roman, and the similitude is complete.
“Aaron Burr, the Julius Cesar of America, was the most astonishing man of his age; a man that inspired spirit into every thing material or immaterial with which he came in contact; a man who went about working treason, tampering with the bravest and stoutest hearts of our country, in the light of heaven, with an audacity unlike any thing ever seen in the history of disaffection setting our laws at defiance— mocking at our strength—doing that, which now he has failed, has been called madness; yet for which all the talent, the learning, and the power of the country were unable to punish him! A man, that poured his spirit of revolt, like a flood of fire, into every heart that he came near—disturbing the oldest and most cautious of our veterans; one that seemed to put himself, life and name, into the power of every human creature that he approached; yet with all this seeming, he was never in the power of mortal man, as Wilkinson and Eaton can shew; a man that suffered the legal wisdom of the whole country to array itself against him, without trembling, and then, just put out enough of his own strength and no more, to defeat and shame them.
“Since the time of the Roman, there has never been a man upon this earth so like Julius Cesar, as Aaron Burr.”
As, of the sun, a vertic beam,
The brightest in the golden year.
The strong herculean limbs denied,
But gave, a mind, where genius glowed,
A soul, to valour's self allied.
Thy every blessing to annoy;
To blight thy laurels tender green;
The banner of thy fame destroy.
My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | ||