 | The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq |  |
242
3. PART III.
ODES AND SONGS.
243
ODE. RISE COLUMBIA.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the first Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1794.
When first the Sun o'er Ocean glowed,
And Earth unveiled her virgin breast,
Supreme mid Nature's vast abode,
Was heard the Almighty's dread behest:
Rise, Columbia, brave and free,
Poise the Globe, and bound the Sea!
And Earth unveiled her virgin breast,
Supreme mid Nature's vast abode,
Was heard the Almighty's dread behest:
Rise, Columbia, brave and free,
Poise the Globe, and bound the Sea!
In darkness wrapped, with fetters chained,
Will ages grope, debased and blind;
With blood the human hand be stained,
With tyrant power, the human mind.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
Will ages grope, debased and blind;
With blood the human hand be stained,
With tyrant power, the human mind.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
But, lo, across the Atlantick floods,
The Star-directed pilgrim sails!
See! felled by Commerce, float thy woods;
And, clothed by Ceres, wave thy vales!
Rise, Columbia, &c.
The Star-directed pilgrim sails!
See! felled by Commerce, float thy woods;
And, clothed by Ceres, wave thy vales!
Rise, Columbia, &c.
Remote from realms of rival fame,
Thy bulwark is thy mound of waves;
The Sea, thy birth-right, Thou must claim,
Or, subject, yield the soil it laves.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
Thy bulwark is thy mound of waves;
The Sea, thy birth-right, Thou must claim,
Or, subject, yield the soil it laves.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
244
Nor yet, though skilled, delight in arms;
Peace and, her offspring, arts be thine;
The face of Freedom scarce has charms,
When on her cheeks no dimples shine.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
Peace and, her offspring, arts be thine;
The face of Freedom scarce has charms,
When on her cheeks no dimples shine.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
While Fame for thee, her wreath entwines,
To bless, thy nobler triumph prove;
And, though the eagle haunts thy pines,
Beneath thy willows shield the dove.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
To bless, thy nobler triumph prove;
And, though the eagle haunts thy pines,
Beneath thy willows shield the dove.
Rise, Columbia, &c.
When bolts the flame, or whelms the wave,
Be thine to rule the wayward hour!
Bid Death unbar the watery grave,
“And Vulcan yield to Neptune's power.”
Rise, Columbia, &c.
Be thine to rule the wayward hour!
Bid Death unbar the watery grave,
“And Vulcan yield to Neptune's power.”
Rise, Columbia, &c.
Revered in arms, in peace humane,
No shore, nor realm shall bound thy sway;
While all the virtues own thy reign,
And subject elements obey!
Rise, Columbia, brave and free,
Bless the Globe, and rule the sea.
No shore, nor realm shall bound thy sway;
While all the virtues own thy reign,
And subject elements obey!
Rise, Columbia, brave and free,
Bless the Globe, and rule the sea.
245
ODE. ADAMS AND LIBERTY.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the fourth Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1798.
Ye sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought,
For those rights, which unstained from your Sires had descended,
May you long taste the blessings your valour has bought,
And your sons reap the soil which their fathers defended.
'Mid the reign of mild Peace,
May your nation increase,
With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece;
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.
For those rights, which unstained from your Sires had descended,
May you long taste the blessings your valour has bought,
And your sons reap the soil which their fathers defended.
'Mid the reign of mild Peace,
May your nation increase,
With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece;
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.
In a clime, whose rich vales feed the marts of the world,
Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion,
The trident of Commerce should never be hurled,
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean.
But should pirates invade,
Though in thunder arrayed,
Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion,
The trident of Commerce should never be hurled,
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean.
But should pirates invade,
Though in thunder arrayed,
Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway,
Had justly ennobled our nation in story,
'Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day,
And enveloped the sun of American glory.
But let traitors be told,
Who their country have sold,
And bartered their God for his image in gold,
That ne'er will the sons, &c.
Had justly ennobled our nation in story,
'Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day,
And enveloped the sun of American glory.
246
Who their country have sold,
And bartered their God for his image in gold,
That ne'er will the sons, &c.
While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood,
And Society's base threats with wide dissolution;
May Peace like the dove, who returned from the flood,
Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution.
But though Peace is our aim,
Yet the boon we disclaim,
If bought by our Sov'reignty, Justice or Fame.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
And Society's base threats with wide dissolution;
May Peace like the dove, who returned from the flood,
Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution.
But though Peace is our aim,
Yet the boon we disclaim,
If bought by our Sov'reignty, Justice or Fame.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
'Tis the fire of the flint, each American warms;
Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision,
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms,
We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division.
While with patriot pride,
To our laws we're allied,
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision,
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms,
We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division.
While with patriot pride,
To our laws we're allied,
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Our mountains are crowned with imperial oak;
Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished;
But long e'er our nation submits to the yoke,
Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished.
Should invasion impend,
Every grove would descend,
From the hill-tops, they shaded, our shores to defend.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished;
But long e'er our nation submits to the yoke,
Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished.
Should invasion impend,
Every grove would descend,
From the hill-tops, they shaded, our shores to defend.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
247
Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent worm;
Lest our Liberty's growth should be checked by corrosion;
Then let clouds thicken round us; we heed not the storm;
Our realm fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion.
Foes assail us in vain,
Though their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Lest our Liberty's growth should be checked by corrosion;
Then let clouds thicken round us; we heed not the storm;
Our realm fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion.
Foes assail us in vain,
Though their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Should the Tempest of War overshadow our land,
Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder;
For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand,
And repulse, with his Breast, the assaults of the thunder!
His sword, from the sleep
Of its scabbard would leap,
And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep!
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder;
For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand,
And repulse, with his Breast, the assaults of the thunder!
His sword, from the sleep
Of its scabbard would leap,
And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep!
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.
Let Fame to the world sound America's voice;
No intrigues can her sons from their government sever;
Her pride is her Adams; her laws are his choice,
And shall flourish, till Liberty slumbers for ever.
Then unite heart and hand,
Like Leonidas' band,
And swear to the God of the ocean and land;
That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.
No intrigues can her sons from their government sever;
Her pride is her Adams; her laws are his choice,
And shall flourish, till Liberty slumbers for ever.
Then unite heart and hand,
Like Leonidas' band,
And swear to the God of the ocean and land;
That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.
248
ODE.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the fifteenth Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1809.
GRAND RECITATIVE.
Bleak lowered the morn; the howling snow-drift blew;
Rude piles of devastation smoked around;
While houseless Outcasts, shivering o'er the ground,
Bade the sad phantoms of their Homes adieu;
Rude piles of devastation smoked around;
While houseless Outcasts, shivering o'er the ground,
Bade the sad phantoms of their Homes adieu;
AIR.
Ah! mouldering wrecks! ye flit in fearful trance,
And the vision of frenzy recall,
When in horror we leaped, with a fugitive glance,
From the flames of yon desolate Wall!
See, now, with blighting melancholy bare,
Like the monument stone at a sepulchre placed
It weeps o'er this ruinous waste,
As it totters and rocks in the air.
In vain, sweet pleading Pity calls;
Or the cry of shrill Terror appals;—
Bending, beetling, crushing o'er the crowded way,
Hark! it cracks! see, it falls!
And wretches forget all their griefs in dismay.
And the vision of frenzy recall,
When in horror we leaped, with a fugitive glance,
From the flames of yon desolate Wall!
See, now, with blighting melancholy bare,
Like the monument stone at a sepulchre placed
It weeps o'er this ruinous waste,
As it totters and rocks in the air.
In vain, sweet pleading Pity calls;
Or the cry of shrill Terror appals;—
Bending, beetling, crushing o'er the crowded way,
Hark! it cracks! see, it falls!
And wretches forget all their griefs in dismay.
RECITATIVE.
But lo! along its crumbling base,
With vacancy's ecstatic pace,
All-reckless, a heart-broken mourner repair;
Grief has reason beguiled,
And with melodies wild,
Invoking her child,
She wanders like Hope, and bewails like Despair.
With vacancy's ecstatic pace,
All-reckless, a heart-broken mourner repair;
249
And with melodies wild,
Invoking her child,
She wanders like Hope, and bewails like Despair.
AIR—Andante.
My Boy beneath this ruin lies!
Lost William! hear a Mother's sighs!
Through blasts that freeze, and paths that burn,
Thy tombless dust she comes to urn.
Now I thy cherub spirit see!
It spreads its doating arms to me!
It smiles in air! while piteous grace
Softens the sorrows of its face.
Vain was thy Mother's frantick flight
To snatch thee from the Fiend of Night!
Thy Couch, alas! thy funeral pyre,
Mid shrieks of horror, sunk in fire!
Lost William! hear a Mother's sighs!
Through blasts that freeze, and paths that burn,
Thy tombless dust she comes to urn.
Now I thy cherub spirit see!
It spreads its doating arms to me!
It smiles in air! while piteous grace
Softens the sorrows of its face.
Vain was thy Mother's frantick flight
To snatch thee from the Fiend of Night!
Thy Couch, alas! thy funeral pyre,
Mid shrieks of horror, sunk in fire!
ALLEGRO FURIOSO.
Now to clouds of purple light,
Where William sits, I'll steal my flight!
Cold is this crazy crust of clay,
He beckons to a warmer day!
Wealth! I'm a happier wretch than you,
And laughing bid the world, Adieu!
Where William sits, I'll steal my flight!
Cold is this crazy crust of clay,
He beckons to a warmer day!
Wealth! I'm a happier wretch than you,
And laughing bid the world, Adieu!
250
SONG. TO ARMS, COLUMBIA!
Tune—“HE COMES! HE COMES!
To arms, to arms, when Honour cries,
Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise;
On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred,
'Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword!
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise;
On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred,
'Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword!
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
Columbia's Eagle soars so high,
He kens the sun with sovereign eye;
Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour,
Nor perches, when the thunders roar.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
He kens the sun with sovereign eye;
Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour,
Nor perches, when the thunders roar.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Like Glory's dazzling bird of day,
Our realm should hold imperial sway;
Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand,
Though Faction's earthquake shake the land.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Our realm should hold imperial sway;
Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand,
Though Faction's earthquake shake the land.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
251
Shall Gallia bid our oaks descend,
Her rubrick banner to defend?
Enslave those forests, reared to reign,
The future monarchs of the main?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Her rubrick banner to defend?
Enslave those forests, reared to reign,
The future monarchs of the main?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Can glow-worm vie with noontide Sun,
Or Lodi's chief with Washington?
Can Earth her maniack moon obey,
Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Or Lodi's chief with Washington?
Can Earth her maniack moon obey,
Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Revenge! Revenge! The flag's unfurled!
Let Freedom's cannon wake the world,
And Ocean gorge on pirates slain,
'Till Truxton Nelsonise the main!
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Let Freedom's cannon wake the world,
And Ocean gorge on pirates slain,
'Till Truxton Nelsonise the main!
To arms, Columbia, &c.
The fate of nations waits the hour,
Foretold to end the serpent's power;
When fallen realms shall break their trance,
And Adams bruise the head of France.
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
Foretold to end the serpent's power;
When fallen realms shall break their trance,
And Adams bruise the head of France.
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
252
SONG. RULE NEW-ENGLAND.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, May, 1802.
What arm a sinking State can save,
From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave?
Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes,
Looks round her realm, and thus replies,
From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave?
Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes,
Looks round her realm, and thus replies,
Rule New-England! New-England rules and saves!
Columbians never, never shall be slaves.
Columbians never, never shall be slaves.
New-England, first in Freedom's Van,
To toil and bleed for injured man,
Still true to virtue, dares to say,
Order is Freedom—Man, obey!
To toil and bleed for injured man,
Still true to virtue, dares to say,
Order is Freedom—Man, obey!
Rule, &c.
Gloomed, like Cimmeria's beamless day,
Our realm in misted error lay,
Delusion drugged a nation's veins;
And Truth was philtered in her chains.
Our realm in misted error lay,
Delusion drugged a nation's veins;
And Truth was philtered in her chains.
Rule, &c.
'Twas now the witching time of night,
When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright;
While patriot fiends, with dæmon glare,
Flash, shriek and hurtle in the air!
When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright;
253
Flash, shriek and hurtle in the air!
Rule, &c.
Alone, amid the coil serene,
New-England stands, and braves the scene,
Majestic as she lifts her eye,
The stars appear—the dæmons fly.
New-England stands, and braves the scene,
Majestic as she lifts her eye,
The stars appear—the dæmons fly.
Rule, &c.
At length the dawn, like that, which first
Upon primeval Chaos burst,
Athwart our clime its radiance throws,
And blushes at the wrecks, it shows.
Upon primeval Chaos burst,
Athwart our clime its radiance throws,
And blushes at the wrecks, it shows.
Rule, &c.
Old Massachusetts' hundred hills
Awake and chaunt the matin song;
A realm's acclaim the welkin fills,
The federal Sun returns with Strong.
Awake and chaunt the matin song;
A realm's acclaim the welkin fills,
The federal Sun returns with Strong.
Rise, &c.
And thou, pale orb of waning light,
Democracy, thou changeling Moon,
Art doomed to wheel thy maniac flight,
Unseen amid the cloudless Noon.
Democracy, thou changeling Moon,
Art doomed to wheel thy maniac flight,
Unseen amid the cloudless Noon.
Rule, &c.
254
ODE. THE STREET WAS A RUIN.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, June, 1804.
The Street was a Ruin, and Night's horrid glare
Illumined with terror the face of Despair;
While houseless, bewailing,
Mute Pity assailing,
A Mother's wild shrieks pierced the merciless air,
Beside her stood Edward, imploring each wind,
To wake his loved sister, who lingered behind;
Awake, my poor Mary,
Oh! fly to me, Mary;
In the arms of your Edward, a pillow you'll find.
Illumined with terror the face of Despair;
While houseless, bewailing,
Mute Pity assailing,
A Mother's wild shrieks pierced the merciless air,
Beside her stood Edward, imploring each wind,
To wake his loved sister, who lingered behind;
Awake, my poor Mary,
Oh! fly to me, Mary;
In the arms of your Edward, a pillow you'll find.
In vain he called, for now the volum'd smoke,
Crackling, between the parting rafters broke;
Through the rent seams the forked flames aspire,
All, all, is lost; the roof's, the roof's on fire!
Crackling, between the parting rafters broke;
Through the rent seams the forked flames aspire,
All, all, is lost; the roof's, the roof's on fire!
A flash from the window brought Mary to view,
She screamed as around her the flames fiercely blew;
Where art thou, mother!
Oh! fly to me, brother!
Ah! save your poor Mary, who lives but for you!
Leave not poor Mary,
Ah! save your poor Mary!
Her visioned form descrying,
On wings of horror flying,
The youth erects his frantick gaze,
Then plunges in the maddening blaze!
Aloft he dauntless soars,
The flaming room explores;
The roof in cinders crushes,
Through tumbling walls he rushes!
She's safe from Fear's alarms;
She faints in Edward's arms!
She screamed as around her the flames fiercely blew;
Where art thou, mother!
Oh! fly to me, brother!
Ah! save your poor Mary, who lives but for you!
Leave not poor Mary,
Ah! save your poor Mary!
255
On wings of horror flying,
The youth erects his frantick gaze,
Then plunges in the maddening blaze!
Aloft he dauntless soars,
The flaming room explores;
The roof in cinders crushes,
Through tumbling walls he rushes!
She's safe from Fear's alarms;
She faints in Edward's arms!
Oh! Nature, such thy triumphs are,
Thy simplest child can bravely dare.
Thy simplest child can bravely dare.
256
ODE. SPIRIT OF THE VITAL FLAME.
Air.—ADAGIO.
O'er the swift-flowing stream, as the tree broke in air,
Plunged a youth in the tyrannous wave;
No ear heard his shriek; faint with toil and despair,
He sunk, and was whelmed in his grave!
Plunged a youth in the tyrannous wave;
No ear heard his shriek; faint with toil and despair,
He sunk, and was whelmed in his grave!
RECITATIVO.
See, Humanity's angel alights on the scene!
Though the shadows of Death have dissembled his mien;
See, his corse is redeemed from the Stream's icy bed,
And a mother's wild grief shrieks, “Alas! he is dead!”
Though the shadows of Death have dissembled his mien;
See, his corse is redeemed from the Stream's icy bed,
And a mother's wild grief shrieks, “Alas! he is dead!”
Air.—LARGO MAESTOSO.
Spirit of the Vital Flame,
Touch with life his marble frame,
From the day-star's radiant choir,
Bring thy torch of quenchless fire,
And bid a mother's hope respire!
Touch with life his marble frame,
From the day-star's radiant choir,
Bring thy torch of quenchless fire,
And bid a mother's hope respire!
ALLEGRO.
Hither, sparkling cherub, fly!
Mercy's herald, cleave the sky!
To human prayer, benignant Heaven
The salient spring of life has given;
And Science, while her eye explores
What power the dormant nerve restores,
Surveys the Godhead, and adores;
And him, the first of Glory's clan,
Proclaims, who saves a fellow man!
Mercy's herald, cleave the sky!
257
The salient spring of life has given;
And Science, while her eye explores
What power the dormant nerve restores,
Surveys the Godhead, and adores;
And him, the first of Glory's clan,
Proclaims, who saves a fellow man!
MAESTOSO.
Spirit of the Vital Flame!
Touch again his marble frame!
Bid the quivering nerve return,
'Till the kindling eye discern
A mother's tears with rapture burn!
Touch again his marble frame!
Bid the quivering nerve return,
'Till the kindling eye discern
A mother's tears with rapture burn!
ALLEGRO ASSAI.
Behold the quickening Spirit raise
The trembling limb, the wandering gaze!
Instinct listens! Memory wakes!
Thought from cold Extinction breaks;
Reason, motion, frenzy, fear,
Religion's triumph, Nature's tear,
Almighty Power, thy hand is here!
The trembling limb, the wandering gaze!
Instinct listens! Memory wakes!
Thought from cold Extinction breaks;
Reason, motion, frenzy, fear,
Religion's triumph, Nature's tear,
Almighty Power, thy hand is here!
258
ODE.
Tune—“THE HERO COMES.”
When first the Mitre's wrath to shun,
Our Grandsires travelled with the sun,
Columbia's wilds they sought from far,
And Freedom shone their guiding star.
Our Grandsires travelled with the sun,
Columbia's wilds they sought from far,
And Freedom shone their guiding star.
CHORUS.
Seize thy clarion, Fame,Let the Poles proclaim,
Each illustrious name,
That crossed the pathless wave.
Join, ye martial throng,
Fame's immortal song,
Bid the chorus roll along,
Long live the brave.
In battle brave, in council wise,
They bade the school of Valour rise,
Whose pupils awed the astonished world,
And Freedom's sacred flag unfurled.
They bade the school of Valour rise,
Whose pupils awed the astonished world,
And Freedom's sacred flag unfurled.
CHORUS.
Seize thy clarion, Fame,Let the Poles proclaim,
Each illustrious name,
That bade these banners wave.
Join, &c.
259
While o'er our fields, with havock dyed,
Bellona rolled her crimsoned tide,
Like Beauty's lovely goddess rose
Bright Freedom from our sea of woes.
Bellona rolled her crimsoned tide,
Like Beauty's lovely goddess rose
Bright Freedom from our sea of woes.
CHORUS.
Seize thy clarion, Fame,Let the Poles proclaim,
Every hero's name,
That dared our rights to save.
Join, &c.
Well skilled to guide the helm of state,
Like Howard good, like Chatham great,
A chief was ours of deathless fame,
And Hancock was the godlike name.
Like Howard good, like Chatham great,
A chief was ours of deathless fame,
And Hancock was the godlike name.
CHORUS.
Seize thy clarion, Fame,Let the Poles proclaim,
Hancock's glorious name,
Whose soul disdained the slave.
Join, &c.
Columbia wept; the Virtues sighed,
And Freedom mourned when Hancock died;
While choirs of seraphs sung on high,
He's welcome to his native sky.
And Freedom mourned when Hancock died;
While choirs of seraphs sung on high,
He's welcome to his native sky.
CHORUS.
Seize thy clarion, Fame,Let the Poles proclaim,
Hancock's deathless name,
Has triumphed o'er the grave.
Join, &c.
260
To arms! to arms! when Freedom calls,
No pang the hero's breast appals;
But when the trumpet's clangours cease,
Let Virtue tune the lute of Peace.
No pang the hero's breast appals;
But when the trumpet's clangours cease,
Let Virtue tune the lute of Peace.
CHORUS.
Seize thy clarion, Fame,Let the Poles proclaim,
Freedom's glorious flame
Shall soon inspire the slave.
Join, ye martial throng,
Fame's immortal song,
Bid the chorus roll along,
Long live the brave.
261
SONG. THE YEOMEN OF HAMPSHIRE.
Tune—“ADAMS AND LIBERTY.”
To the shades of our ancestors loud is the praise,
That descends with their deeds, and inspires by reaction!
To the heirs of their glory the pæan we raise,
The “Yeomen of Hampshire,” the Victors of Faction;
Be theirs the proud tale,
That though Anarch assail,
Each ploughman still sings to the Stream of his Vale.
That descends with their deeds, and inspires by reaction!
To the heirs of their glory the pæan we raise,
The “Yeomen of Hampshire,” the Victors of Faction;
Be theirs the proud tale,
That though Anarch assail,
Each ploughman still sings to the Stream of his Vale.
CHORUS.
Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran,Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man.
Where'er thy rich waters erratick display
Thy deluge of plenty, like Nile, overflooding;
The Mind and the Season thy impulse obey,
And patriot Virtue and Spring are in budding;
While each leaf, as it shoots,
With its promise of fruits,
Proclaims the thrift moisture, that cultures its roots.
Thy deluge of plenty, like Nile, overflooding;
The Mind and the Season thy impulse obey,
And patriot Virtue and Spring are in budding;
While each leaf, as it shoots,
With its promise of fruits,
Proclaims the thrift moisture, that cultures its roots.
262
CHORUS.
Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran,Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man.
Through the vallies of Hampshire, bright Order's abode,
Thou lovest in gay circles to range and to wander;
While pleased with thy empire, to lengthen the road,
Thou givest to thy channel another meander;
And when on the way,
Near Northampton you stray,
How slow moves thy current its homage to pay!
Thou lovest in gay circles to range and to wander;
While pleased with thy empire, to lengthen the road,
Thou givest to thy channel another meander;
And when on the way,
Near Northampton you stray,
How slow moves thy current its homage to pay!
CHORUS.
Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran,Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man.
Again flow thy stream, as sublimely it rolled,
In triumph effulgent, from Freedom reflected;
On that festival day, when Old Anarch was told,
That his arts had been foiled, and his Foe was elected;
When thy bright waves along,
Reechoed the song,
To the Christian, the Statesman, the Patriot Strong;
In triumph effulgent, from Freedom reflected;
On that festival day, when Old Anarch was told,
That his arts had been foiled, and his Foe was elected;
When thy bright waves along,
Reechoed the song,
To the Christian, the Statesman, the Patriot Strong;
CHORUS.
Whose course loved Connecticut like thine, has ranTo cultivate Nature, and moralise Man.
263
MASONICK ODE.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Lodge, on the visitation of the Grand Lodge, 1796.
Sweet Minstrel, who to mortal ears
Canst tell the Art, which guides the spheres.
Blest Masonry, all hail!
With Nature's birth thy laws began,
To rule on earth fraternal man,
And still in Heaven prevail.
Canst tell the Art, which guides the spheres.
Blest Masonry, all hail!
With Nature's birth thy laws began,
To rule on earth fraternal man,
And still in Heaven prevail.
O'er Matter's modes thy mystick sway
Can fashion Chaos' devious way,
To Order's lucid maze;
Can rear the cloud-assaulting tower,
And bid the worm, that breathes its hour,
Its humble palace raise.
Can fashion Chaos' devious way,
To Order's lucid maze;
Can rear the cloud-assaulting tower,
And bid the worm, that breathes its hour,
Its humble palace raise.
From nascent life to Being's pride,
The surest boon thy laws provide
When wayward fate beguiles:
The tears, thou shed'st for human woe,
In falling shine, like Iris' bow,
And beam an arch of smiles.
The surest boon thy laws provide
When wayward fate beguiles:
The tears, thou shed'st for human woe,
In falling shine, like Iris' bow,
And beam an arch of smiles.
264
Come, priest of Science, truth arrayed,
And with thee bring each tuneful maid,
Thou lov'st on Shinar's plain;
Revive Creation's primal plan,
Subdue this wilderness of man,
Bid social Virtue reign!
And with thee bring each tuneful maid,
Thou lov'st on Shinar's plain;
Revive Creation's primal plan,
Subdue this wilderness of man,
Bid social Virtue reign!
265
ODE.
Tune.—“PRESIDENT'S MARCH.”
Sainted shades! who dared to brave,
In Freedom's ark, the pathless wave,
Where, scarcely kenned by lynx-eyed fame,
No traveller but the Comet came,
And driven by Tempest's ravening blast,
Were wrecked upon our wilds at last;
How rose your faith, when through the storm
Smiled Liberty's celestial form,
Her lyre to strains of seraphs strung,
And thus the sacred pæan sung:
In Freedom's ark, the pathless wave,
Where, scarcely kenned by lynx-eyed fame,
No traveller but the Comet came,
And driven by Tempest's ravening blast,
Were wrecked upon our wilds at last;
How rose your faith, when through the storm
Smiled Liberty's celestial form,
Her lyre to strains of seraphs strung,
And thus the sacred pæan sung:
CHORUS.
Sons of Glory, patriot band,Welcome to my chosen land!
To your children leave it free,
Or a desert let it be.
Round the consecrated rock,
Convened the patriarchal flock,
And there, while every lifted hand
Affirmed the charter of the land,
The storm was hushed, and round the zone
Of Heaven, the mystick meteor shone,
Which, like the rainbow, seen of yore,
Proclaimed that Slavery's flood was o'er,
That pilgrim man, so long oppressed,
Had found his promised place of rest.
Convened the patriarchal flock,
And there, while every lifted hand
Affirmed the charter of the land,
The storm was hushed, and round the zone
Of Heaven, the mystick meteor shone,
266
Proclaimed that Slavery's flood was o'er,
That pilgrim man, so long oppressed,
Had found his promised place of rest.
Sons of Glory, &c.
Festive honours crown the day,
With garlands green and votive lay,
From whose auspicious dawn we trace
The birth-right of our favoured race,
Which shall descend from sire to son,
While seasons roll, and rivers run;
Till Faction's cankerous tooth devour
Of fatuate man each virtuous power;
Till dark intrigue our empire guides,
And patriot worth no more presides!
With garlands green and votive lay,
From whose auspicious dawn we trace
The birth-right of our favoured race,
Which shall descend from sire to son,
While seasons roll, and rivers run;
Till Faction's cankerous tooth devour
Of fatuate man each virtuous power;
Till dark intrigue our empire guides,
And patriot worth no more presides!
Sons of Glory, &c.
Heirs of pilgrims, now renew
The oath your fathers swore for you,
When first around the social board,
Enriched from Nature's frugal hoard,
The ardent vow to Heaven they breathed,
To shield the rights their Sires bequeathed!
Manes of Carver! Standish! hear!
To love the soil, you gave, we swear;
And midst the storms of state be true
To God, our country, and to you.
The oath your fathers swore for you,
When first around the social board,
Enriched from Nature's frugal hoard,
The ardent vow to Heaven they breathed,
To shield the rights their Sires bequeathed!
Manes of Carver! Standish! hear!
To love the soil, you gave, we swear;
And midst the storms of state be true
To God, our country, and to you.
Sons of Glory, &c.
267
SONG. THE GREEN MOUNTAIN FARMER.
Blest on his own paternal farm;
Contented, yet acquiring;
Below ambition's gilded charm,
Yet rich beyond desiring;
The hill-born rustick, hale and gay,
Ere prattling swallows sally,
Or ere the pine-top spies the day,
Sings cheerly through his valley;
Contented, yet acquiring;
Below ambition's gilded charm,
Yet rich beyond desiring;
The hill-born rustick, hale and gay,
Ere prattling swallows sally,
Or ere the pine-top spies the day,
Sings cheerly through his valley;
CHORUS.
Green Mountains' echo Heaven's decree!Live Adams, Law and Liberty.
With love and plenty, peace and health,
Enriched by honest labour,
He cheers the friend of humbler wealth,
Nor courts his prouder neighbour.
At eve, returning home, he meets,
His nut-brown lass, so loving,
And still his constant strain repeats,
Through groves and meadows roving.
Enriched by honest labour,
He cheers the friend of humbler wealth,
Nor courts his prouder neighbour.
At eve, returning home, he meets,
His nut-brown lass, so loving,
And still his constant strain repeats,
Through groves and meadows roving.
268
CHORUS.
Green Mountains' echo Heaven's decree!Live Adams, Law and Liberty.
Should Faction's wily Serpent spring
With treacherous folds to intwine him,
Undaunted by his venomed sting,
To flames he would consign him;
The hardy yeoman, like the Oak,
That shades his wood-land border,
Would baffle Anarch's vengeful stroke,
And shelter Law and Order.
With treacherous folds to intwine him,
Undaunted by his venomed sting,
To flames he would consign him;
The hardy yeoman, like the Oak,
That shades his wood-land border,
Would baffle Anarch's vengeful stroke,
And shelter Law and Order.
CHORUS.
Green Mountains' echo, still would be!Live Adams, Law and Liberty.
Should hostile fleets our shores assail,
By home-bred traitors aided,
No free-born hand would till the vale,
By slavery degraded;
Each youth would join the patriot brave,
To die proud Freedom's martyr,
And shed his latest drop, to save
His country's Glorious Charter.
By home-bred traitors aided,
No free-born hand would till the vale,
By slavery degraded;
Each youth would join the patriot brave,
To die proud Freedom's martyr,
And shed his latest drop, to save
His country's Glorious Charter.
CHORUS.
Green Mountains' echo then would be,Fight on, Fight on for Liberty.
But hark! the invading foe alarms,
Responsive cannons rattle;
And Washington, again in arms,
Directs the storm of battle.
The locust swarm of Gallick fiends
He sweeps to mid-way ocean;
While fame the vaulted Ether rends,
With conquest's loud commotion.
Responsive cannons rattle;
And Washington, again in arms,
Directs the storm of battle.
269
He sweeps to mid-way ocean;
While fame the vaulted Ether rends,
With conquest's loud commotion.
CHORUS.
Shout! Shout! Columbians, Heaven's decree;'Tis Washington and Victory!
270
ODE.
Shall man, stern man, 'gainst Heaven's behest,
His cold, unfeeling pride oppose!
To thankless Wealth unlock his breast,
Yet freeze his heart to Orphan's woes.
Weak Casuist! where yon thunder broke!
Seest how the livid light'ning glares!
Behold! it rives the knotted oak,
But still the humble Myrtle spares.
His cold, unfeeling pride oppose!
To thankless Wealth unlock his breast,
Yet freeze his heart to Orphan's woes.
Weak Casuist! where yon thunder broke!
Seest how the livid light'ning glares!
Behold! it rives the knotted oak,
But still the humble Myrtle spares.
Let stoick valour boldly brave,
The wars and elements of life!
But, more like Heaven, who stoops to save
A being, sinking in the strife;
Poor Exiles! wandering o'er this sphere,
Through scenes, of which you form no part;
Loved Orphan girls! come welcome here,
The Asylum of the human heart.
The wars and elements of life!
But, more like Heaven, who stoops to save
A being, sinking in the strife;
Poor Exiles! wandering o'er this sphere,
Through scenes, of which you form no part;
Loved Orphan girls! come welcome here,
The Asylum of the human heart.
Sweet Charity! thou spright benign,
Who oft art seen in Angel form,
To point the sunbeam, where to shine,
Or rein the coursers of the storm!
Oh! through yon dark and dripping cell,
Where Sorrow's out-cast offspring weep,
Flash, as when Peter's fetters fell,
And bid the woes, that guard them, sleep!
Who oft art seen in Angel form,
To point the sunbeam, where to shine,
Or rein the coursers of the storm!
271
Where Sorrow's out-cast offspring weep,
Flash, as when Peter's fetters fell,
And bid the woes, that guard them, sleep!
Warmed by thy beams, the frost unkind,
Which blasts sweet woman's vernal years,
In dew exhaled, shall leave behind
Pure Gratitude's unsullied tears!
So shall our Orphan girls no more,
Lament the untimely blight of woe;
But reared to virtue, thrice restore
To generous man the debt, they owe.
Which blasts sweet woman's vernal years,
In dew exhaled, shall leave behind
Pure Gratitude's unsullied tears!
So shall our Orphan girls no more,
Lament the untimely blight of woe;
But reared to virtue, thrice restore
To generous man the debt, they owe.
Blest Providence! whose parent power
All being gives, for all provides;
Co-equal, when it blooms the flower,
As when it curbs old Ocean's tides!
See, lorn and piteous, at thy throne,
Love, Mercy, Hope and Homage sue;
They weep for sorrows, not their own,
They bend, dear Orphan girls, for you!
All being gives, for all provides;
Co-equal, when it blooms the flower,
As when it curbs old Ocean's tides!
See, lorn and piteous, at thy throne,
Love, Mercy, Hope and Homage sue;
They weep for sorrows, not their own,
They bend, dear Orphan girls, for you!
272
ODE.
Tune—“WHILST HAPPY IN MY NATIVE LAND.”
Wide o'er the wilderness of waves,
Untracked by human peril,
Our fathers roamed for peaceful graves,
To deserts dark and sterile.
No parting pang, no long adieu
Delayed their gallant daring;
With them, their Gods and Country too,
Their pilgrim keels were bearing.
All hearts unite the patriot band,
Be liberty our natal land.
Untracked by human peril,
Our fathers roamed for peaceful graves,
To deserts dark and sterile.
No parting pang, no long adieu
Delayed their gallant daring;
With them, their Gods and Country too,
Their pilgrim keels were bearing.
All hearts unite the patriot band,
Be liberty our natal land.
Their dauntless hearts no meteor led,
In terrour o'er the ocean;
From fortune and from man they fled,
To Heaven and its devotion.
Fate cannot bend the high born mind
To bigot usurpation:
They, who had left a world behind,
Now gave that world a nation.
In terrour o'er the ocean;
From fortune and from man they fled,
To Heaven and its devotion.
Fate cannot bend the high born mind
To bigot usurpation:
They, who had left a world behind,
Now gave that world a nation.
273
The soil to till, to freight the sea,
By valour's arm protected,
To plant an empire brave and free,
Their sacred views directed:
But more they feared, than tyrant's yoke,
Insidious faction's fury;
For oft a worm destroys an oak,
Whose leaf that worm would bury.
By valour's arm protected,
To plant an empire brave and free,
Their sacred views directed:
But more they feared, than tyrant's yoke,
Insidious faction's fury;
For oft a worm destroys an oak,
Whose leaf that worm would bury.
Thus reared, our giant realm arose,
And claimed our sovereign charter:
Her life-blood warm from Adams rose,
And all her sons from Sparta.
Be free, Columbia! proudest name
Fame's herald wafts in story:
Be free, thou youngest child of Fame,
Rule, brightest heir of Glory!
And claimed our sovereign charter:
Her life-blood warm from Adams rose,
And all her sons from Sparta.
Be free, Columbia! proudest name
Fame's herald wafts in story:
Be free, thou youngest child of Fame,
Rule, brightest heir of Glory!
Thy Preble, mid the battle's ire,
Hath Africk's towers dejected;
And Lybia's sands have flashed with fire,
From Eaton's sword reflected.
Thy groves, which erst the hill or plain
Entrenched from savage plunder,
To Naiads turned, must cleave the main,
And sport with Neptune's thunder.
Hath Africk's towers dejected;
And Lybia's sands have flashed with fire,
From Eaton's sword reflected.
Thy groves, which erst the hill or plain
Entrenched from savage plunder,
To Naiads turned, must cleave the main,
And sport with Neptune's thunder.
274
ODE.
Hail! Hail, ye patriot spirits!
Ye chiefs of valiant deed!
To war-scarred bosoms point no more,
Your wounds no longer bleed.
Oh! ever bless the festal shrine
Your hovering shades explore!
While laurel-crowned, ye glide around,
And the Seraph Anthem pour—
It is our country's natal day,
We hail it and adore!
Ye chiefs of valiant deed!
To war-scarred bosoms point no more,
Your wounds no longer bleed.
Oh! ever bless the festal shrine
Your hovering shades explore!
While laurel-crowned, ye glide around,
And the Seraph Anthem pour—
It is our country's natal day,
We hail it and adore!
High o'er the rock of ages,
See Independence stride,
Her shield she stretches o'er the vale,
Her spear across the tide.
The harvests of her teeming soil,
She bids the waves expand,
Though tempest roars, around her shores,
It dies along her strand;
For the arm, that can the plough direct,
The trident can command.
See Independence stride,
Her shield she stretches o'er the vale,
Her spear across the tide.
The harvests of her teeming soil,
She bids the waves expand,
Though tempest roars, around her shores,
It dies along her strand;
For the arm, that can the plough direct,
The trident can command.
275
The storm, that rent her forests
A thousand ages past,
Now sweeps their branches as they fly
Along the ocean blast.
Through every clime her banners float,
And greet the Northern Wane,
Where dimly bright, with wheeling light,
He pales the freezing plain;
And sees new Stars beneath the pole,
New Pleiads on the main.
A thousand ages past,
Now sweeps their branches as they fly
Along the ocean blast.
Through every clime her banners float,
And greet the Northern Wane,
Where dimly bright, with wheeling light,
He pales the freezing plain;
And sees new Stars beneath the pole,
New Pleiads on the main.
The Sea is valour's charter,
A nation's wealthiest mine:
His foaming caves when ocean bares,
Not pearls, but heroes shine;
Aloft they mount the midnight surge,
Where shipwrecked spirits roam,
And oft the knell, is heard to swell,
Where bursting billows foam.
Each storm a race of heroes rears,
To guard their native home.
A nation's wealthiest mine:
His foaming caves when ocean bares,
Not pearls, but heroes shine;
Aloft they mount the midnight surge,
Where shipwrecked spirits roam,
And oft the knell, is heard to swell,
Where bursting billows foam.
Each storm a race of heroes rears,
To guard their native home.
But not the storm, that courses
The mountain and the deep,
Like Rapine's secret, whirling pool,
With tyrant, power can sweep:
Th' Imperial Gulf can whelm the keel,
Which tempests proudly bore;
In smooth serene, it glides unseen,
Till all its caverns roar;
Till all its hidden ledges crash,
And all its whirlwinds pour.
The mountain and the deep,
Like Rapine's secret, whirling pool,
With tyrant, power can sweep:
Th' Imperial Gulf can whelm the keel,
Which tempests proudly bore;
In smooth serene, it glides unseen,
Till all its caverns roar;
Till all its hidden ledges crash,
And all its whirlwinds pour.
276
Rise, man's immortal spirit,
Stern Independence, rise;
Mid wrecks, that choak the pirate's cave,
Your tattered banner lies.
In fierce Napoleon's midnight cells
Your gallant sailor grieves;
In chains he lies, and wistful sighs
Towards his country heaves.
Rise Independence, wear thy crown,
Or strip its oaken leaves.
Stern Independence, rise;
Mid wrecks, that choak the pirate's cave,
Your tattered banner lies.
In fierce Napoleon's midnight cells
Your gallant sailor grieves;
In chains he lies, and wistful sighs
Towards his country heaves.
Rise Independence, wear thy crown,
Or strip its oaken leaves.
277
ODE.
Tune—“BATTLE OF THE NILE.”
Let patriot pride our patriot triumph wake!
The Jubilee of Freedom relumes a Nation's soul!
On land, or main, no right of realm forsake.
Though warriour storms, like ocean tempests, roll.
Spread your banners, let Commerce, Industry directing,
Mantle the waves, by courage, Wealth protecting!
And new honours while we pay
To our Country's Natal Day,
Let us build her great renown,
From a soil and sea our own;
For Commerce, Agriculture, Art—rewarded shall be!
The Jubilee of Freedom relumes a Nation's soul!
On land, or main, no right of realm forsake.
Though warriour storms, like ocean tempests, roll.
Spread your banners, let Commerce, Industry directing,
Mantle the waves, by courage, Wealth protecting!
And new honours while we pay
To our Country's Natal Day,
Let us build her great renown,
From a soil and sea our own;
For Commerce, Agriculture, Art—rewarded shall be!
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
Heaven gave to Man the Charter to be free.
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
Columbia lives, and claims the great decree.
Heaven gave to Man the Charter to be free.
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
Columbia lives, and claims the great decree.
Arise! Arise! Columbia's Sons, Arise!
Assert, on the ocean, your Ocean's sovereign law;
No hostile flag shall hover in your skies;
No pirate keep your mariners in awe.
Be the rights of your shores by Cannon Law expounded,
And your waters shall be safe, where hook and line are sounded.
On the shoals of Newfoundland,
Let your tars and boats command,
For a Mine of wealth you keep
In the Bank beneath the deep,
Whose Charter, awful Charter, is renewed by every sea.
Assert, on the ocean, your Ocean's sovereign law;
278
No pirate keep your mariners in awe.
Be the rights of your shores by Cannon Law expounded,
And your waters shall be safe, where hook and line are sounded.
On the shoals of Newfoundland,
Let your tars and boats command,
For a Mine of wealth you keep
In the Bank beneath the deep,
Whose Charter, awful Charter, is renewed by every sea.
Huzza! Huzza! &c &c. &c.
If equal justice neutral laws proclaim,
No power will presumptuous your sovereignty disgrace;
Among your Stars inscribe a Nation's name,
Your flag will guard, our freedom and your race.
Base submission, inviting indignity and Plunder,
Like a worm, kills an Oak, which should have braved the thunder.
Though beneath the rifting ball,
Should the mountain monarch fall,
Still in majesty he reigns,
And, though prostrate, rules the plains;
And scios, blooming scios, spring, to renovate the tree.
No power will presumptuous your sovereignty disgrace;
Among your Stars inscribe a Nation's name,
Your flag will guard, our freedom and your race.
Base submission, inviting indignity and Plunder,
Like a worm, kills an Oak, which should have braved the thunder.
Though beneath the rifting ball,
Should the mountain monarch fall,
Still in majesty he reigns,
And, though prostrate, rules the plains;
And scios, blooming scios, spring, to renovate the tree.
Huzza! Huzza! &c &c. &c.
Arouse! Arouse! Columbia's Sons, Arouse!
And burst through the slumber of faction-dreaming fears;
Bid Cannons shake the tempests from your brows,
And the clouds shall echo glory on your ears.
When the trumpet of Victory, Independence claiming,
Swelled o'er your hills, from fields in battle flaming;
When the Freedom of the land,
By your Patriotick Band,
To this Temple was consigned,
'Twas with Washington enshrined,
That the Charter, sacred Charter, there, immortal should be.
And burst through the slumber of faction-dreaming fears;
Bid Cannons shake the tempests from your brows,
And the clouds shall echo glory on your ears.
When the trumpet of Victory, Independence claiming,
Swelled o'er your hills, from fields in battle flaming;
279
By your Patriotick Band,
To this Temple was consigned,
'Twas with Washington enshrined,
That the Charter, sacred Charter, there, immortal should be.
Huzza! Huzza! &c. &c. &c.
280
ODE.
Tune—“Adams and Liberty.”
On the tent-plains of Shinah, Truth's mystical clime,
When the impious turret of Babel was shattered,
Lest the tracks of our race, in the sand-rift of Time,
Should be buried, when Shem, Ham and Japheth were scattered,
Rose the genius of Art,
Man to man to impart,
By a language, that speaks, through the eye, to the heart.
When the impious turret of Babel was shattered,
Lest the tracks of our race, in the sand-rift of Time,
Should be buried, when Shem, Ham and Japheth were scattered,
Rose the genius of Art,
Man to man to impart,
By a language, that speaks, through the eye, to the heart.
CHORUS.
Yet rude was Invention, when Art she revealed,For a block stamped the page, and a tree ploughed the field.
As Time swept his pennons, Art sighed, as she viewed
How dim was the image, her emblem reflected;
When, inspired, father Faust broke her table of wood,
Wrought its parts into shape, and the whole reconnected,
Art with Mind now could rove,
For her symbols could move,
Ever casting new shades, like the leaves of a grove.
How dim was the image, her emblem reflected;
When, inspired, father Faust broke her table of wood,
Wrought its parts into shape, and the whole reconnected,
Art with Mind now could rove,
For her symbols could move,
Ever casting new shades, like the leaves of a grove.
281
CHORUS.
And the colours of Thought in their elements run,As the prismatick glass shows the hues of the Sun.
In the morn of the West, as the light rolled away
From the grey eve of regions, by bigotry clouded,
With the dawn woke our Franklin, and, glancing the day,
Turned its beams through the mist, with which Art was enshrouded;
To kindle her shrine,
His Promethean line
Drew a spark from the clouds, and made Printing divine!
From the grey eve of regions, by bigotry clouded,
With the dawn woke our Franklin, and, glancing the day,
Turned its beams through the mist, with which Art was enshrouded;
To kindle her shrine,
His Promethean line
Drew a spark from the clouds, and made Printing divine!
CHORUS.
When the fire by his rod was attracted from Heaven,Its flash by the type, his conductor, was given.
Ancient Wisdom may boast of the spice and the weed,
Which embalmed the cold forms of its heroes and sages;
But their fame lives alone on the leaf of the reed,
Which has grown through the clefts in the ruins of ages;
Could they rise, they would shed,
Like Cicero's head,
Tears of blood on the spot, where the world they had led.
Which embalmed the cold forms of its heroes and sages;
But their fame lives alone on the leaf of the reed,
Which has grown through the clefts in the ruins of ages;
Could they rise, they would shed,
Like Cicero's head,
Tears of blood on the spot, where the world they had led.
CHORUS.
Of Pompey and Ceser unknown is the tomb,But the type is their forum, the page is their Rome.
Blest genius of Type! down the vista of time
As thy flight leaves behind thee this vexed generation,
Oh! transmit on thy scroll, this bequest from our clime,
The Press can cement, or dismember a nation.
Be thy temple the mind!
There, like Vesta, enshrined,
Watch and foster the flame, which inspires human kind!
As thy flight leaves behind thee this vexed generation,
Oh! transmit on thy scroll, this bequest from our clime,
The Press can cement, or dismember a nation.
282
There, like Vesta, enshrined,
Watch and foster the flame, which inspires human kind!
CHORUS.
Preserving all arts, may all arts cherish thee;And thy science and virtue teach man to be free!
The following explanatory notice of this Ode is extracted from the Port Folio.
In this Ode, the great stages of the art are poetically described in the three first verses; to each of which there is an appropriate chorus. Printing upon blocks with immoveable types was invented by the descendants of Noah, “on the tent-plains of Shinah,” and was nearly coeval with the first rude assays at agriculture. But the art remained in this state of imperfection, till “father Faust broke her tablet of wood,” and invented the moveable type. In succeeding generations the art received various improvements, prior to the era of Franklin, who first united the genius of philosophy to the art of the mechanic.
How would Antiquity “hide her diminished head,” could she “burst her cearments,” and survey the comforts and elegances, which flow from the art and science of modern life! Her heroes and sages would shed
“Tears of blood on the spot where the world they had led,”
at their limited means of greatness; but they would with holy aspirations bless
the “genius of type,” which had so widely diffused their glory and so permanently
embalmed their fame.
The concluding verse impresses a salutary lesson, and conveys a noble moral. We fervently hope that neither the lesson, nor the moral will pass unregarded by the conductors of literary and political Journals; for they stand at the fountains of publick opinion and direct the course of its torrents.
283
ODE.
Tune—“GOD SAVE THE KING.”
Blest be the sacred fire,
Whose beams the man inspire,
Panting for praise!
Renown her laurel rears,
Not in a nation's tears,
But in the Sun, that cheers
Her hero's bays.
Whose beams the man inspire,
Panting for praise!
Renown her laurel rears,
Not in a nation's tears,
But in the Sun, that cheers
Her hero's bays.
In Afric's cells confined,
Columbia's sons had pined,
'Mid hopeless gloom:
By native land forgot,
By friend “remembered not,”
They delved their captive spot,
And hailed their tomb!
Columbia's sons had pined,
'Mid hopeless gloom:
By native land forgot,
By friend “remembered not,”
They delved their captive spot,
And hailed their tomb!
284
Who, for the brave, could feel?
Who warm, with patriot zeal,
Their country's veins?
Eaton, a glorious name!
Struck, from the flint of fame,
A spark, whose chymick flame
Dissolved their chains.
Who warm, with patriot zeal,
Their country's veins?
Eaton, a glorious name!
Struck, from the flint of fame,
A spark, whose chymick flame
Dissolved their chains.
O'er Lybia's desert sands,
He led his venturous bands,
Hovering to save;
Where Fame her wings ne'er spread
O'er Alexander's head,
Where Cato bowed and bled
On glory's grave.
He led his venturous bands,
Hovering to save;
Where Fame her wings ne'er spread
O'er Alexander's head,
Where Cato bowed and bled
On glory's grave.
Though earth no fountain yield,
Arabs their poignards wield,
Famine appal;
Eaton all danger braves,
Fierce while the battle raves,
Columbia's Standard waves,
On Derne's proud wall,
Arabs their poignards wield,
Famine appal;
Eaton all danger braves,
Fierce while the battle raves,
Columbia's Standard waves,
On Derne's proud wall,
Long to the brave be given,
The best reward of Heaven,
On earth beneath!
His country's Spartan pride,
To honest fame allied,
No serpent e're shall glide
Under his wreath,
The best reward of Heaven,
On earth beneath!
His country's Spartan pride,
To honest fame allied,
No serpent e're shall glide
Under his wreath,
285
Blest be the sacred fire,
Whose beams the man inspire,
Panting for praise!
Renown her laurel rears,
Not in a nation's tears,
But in the Sun, that cheers
Her Hero's bays.
Whose beams the man inspire,
Panting for praise!
Renown her laurel rears,
Not in a nation's tears,
But in the Sun, that cheers
Her Hero's bays.
286
ODE.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Association, for improving the breed of Horses, October 21, 1811.
Tune—“TALLY HO.”
The Steeds of Apollo, in coursing the day,
Breathe the fire, which he beams on mankind;
To the world while his light from his car they convey,
Their speed is the blaze of his mind.
Thus Ambition, who governs of honour the chace,
Keeps Life's mettled Coursers in glow;
For Fame is the Gaol, and the World is the Race,
And, hark forward! they start! Tally ho!
Breathe the fire, which he beams on mankind;
To the world while his light from his car they convey,
Their speed is the blaze of his mind.
Thus Ambition, who governs of honour the chace,
Keeps Life's mettled Coursers in glow;
For Fame is the Gaol, and the World is the Race,
And, hark forward! they start! Tally ho!
All ranks try the turf; 'tis the contest of life,
By a heat to achieve a renown;
And so thronged are the lists in the emulous strife,
That but few know what steed is their own;
For many, like Gilpin, alarmed at the blood,
Lose their rein and their course, as they go:
While the Rider, high trained, knows each pace in his stud,
And, hark forward! he flies, Tally ho!
By a heat to achieve a renown;
And so thronged are the lists in the emulous strife,
That but few know what steed is their own;
For many, like Gilpin, alarmed at the blood,
Lose their rein and their course, as they go:
While the Rider, high trained, knows each pace in his stud,
And, hark forward! he flies, Tally ho!
The Hero's a War-horse, whose brave, gen'rous breed,
Scorns the spur, though he yields to the rein;
Blood and bone, at the trump-call he vaults in full speed,
And contends for his own native plain.
In battle he glories; and pants, like his Sire,
On the soil, where he grazed, to lie low;
See his neck clothed with thunder, his mane flaked with fire,
While, hark forward! he springs, Tally ho!
Scorns the spur, though he yields to the rein;
Blood and bone, at the trump-call he vaults in full speed,
And contends for his own native plain.
287
On the soil, where he grazed, to lie low;
See his neck clothed with thunder, his mane flaked with fire,
While, hark forward! he springs, Tally ho!
The Statesman's a Prancer, so tender in hoof,
He curvets, without fleetness or force;
In the heat of the field, when the race is in proof,
He gallantly bolts from the course!
With his canter and amble, he shuffles his way;
And no care of the sport seems to know;
Till he sees, as he hovers, what horse wins the day,
Then, hark forward! he shouts, Tally ho!
He curvets, without fleetness or force;
In the heat of the field, when the race is in proof,
He gallantly bolts from the course!
With his canter and amble, he shuffles his way;
And no care of the sport seems to know;
Till he sees, as he hovers, what horse wins the day,
Then, hark forward! he shouts, Tally ho!
The Farmer's a draught, the rich blood of whose veins,
Acts with vigour the duties, he owes;
He's a horse of sound bottom, and nurtures the plains
Where the harvest, that nurtures him, grows.
At his Country's command, on her hills or her fields,
Which her corn and her laurels bestow;
Firm in danger he moves, and in death never yields,
But, hark forward! he falls, Tally ho!
Acts with vigour the duties, he owes;
He's a horse of sound bottom, and nurtures the plains
Where the harvest, that nurtures him, grows.
At his Country's command, on her hills or her fields,
Which her corn and her laurels bestow;
Firm in danger he moves, and in death never yields,
But, hark forward! he falls, Tally ho!
Columbia is drawn by the Steeds of the sky,
The long journey of Empire to run;
May her coursers of light never scorch as they fly,
And their race be the age of the Sun!
Nor distanced by Time, nor in Fame e'er forgot,
May her track still be known by its glow;
Like Olympian dust, may it stream o'er the spot,
Where, hark forward; she rode, Tally ho!
The long journey of Empire to run;
May her coursers of light never scorch as they fly,
And their race be the age of the Sun!
Nor distanced by Time, nor in Fame e'er forgot,
May her track still be known by its glow;
Like Olympian dust, may it stream o'er the spot,
Where, hark forward; she rode, Tally ho!
288
ODE. SPAIN, COMMERCE AND FREEDOM.
Sound the trumpet of Fame! Swell the Pæan again!
Religion a war against Tyranny wages:
From her couch springs, in Armour, Regenerate Spain,
Like a Giant, refreshed by the slumber of Ages!
From the cell, where she lay,
She leaps in array,
Like Ajax, to die in the face of the Day:
Religion a war against Tyranny wages:
From her couch springs, in Armour, Regenerate Spain,
Like a Giant, refreshed by the slumber of Ages!
From the cell, where she lay,
She leaps in array,
Like Ajax, to die in the face of the Day:
CHORUS.
And Swears, from pollution, her Empire to save,Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave!
In the land of her Birth she rejoices to find,
From her old race of Heroes, a young generation,
In whose souls no dismay kills the nerve of the mind,
Who gaze upon Death with devout contemplation;
Whose Standard on high,
Like a Comet, will fly;
And consume, while it lightens, its neighbouring sky!
From her old race of Heroes, a young generation,
In whose souls no dismay kills the nerve of the mind,
Who gaze upon Death with devout contemplation;
Whose Standard on high,
Like a Comet, will fly;
And consume, while it lightens, its neighbouring sky!
289
CHORUS.
They have sworn from pollution her Empire to save,Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave!
O'er her hills, see the Day-Star of Glory advance!
Its beams warm her cliffs, and unfetter her fountains!
But, a pestilent Planet, it blazes on France!
A Meteor of blood, through the mist of the Mountains!
Like a Dream in the Air,
See, the Pyrennees glare!
A castle of Fire, on a Rock, blear and bare!
Its beams warm her cliffs, and unfetter her fountains!
But, a pestilent Planet, it blazes on France!
A Meteor of blood, through the mist of the Mountains!
Like a Dream in the Air,
See, the Pyrennees glare!
A castle of Fire, on a Rock, blear and bare!
CHORUS.
Its flames from pollution her Empire shall save,Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave!
Brave Isle of the Oak! On thy Patriarch Tree,
Science blossoms, where Freedom her shelter has taken!
Earth was weighed by an Acron! and ruled is the Sea!
What thy Newton had balanced, thy Nelson has shaken!
Trident Queen may'st thou reign,
'Till thy thunder regain
The rights of Mankind, in the battles of Spain!
Science blossoms, where Freedom her shelter has taken!
Earth was weighed by an Acron! and ruled is the Sea!
What thy Newton had balanced, thy Nelson has shaken!
Trident Queen may'st thou reign,
'Till thy thunder regain
The rights of Mankind, in the battles of Spain!
CHORUS.
'Till her Sword from pollution her Empire shall save,Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave!
Thy Shield, gallant Britain! impends from the sky,
Like the Star in the East, on the Morn of Salvation!
Through the dark Empyrean it bursts on the eye,
The Beacon of Man, in the march of Creation!
In the World's sacred War,
Agincourt, Trafalgar
Thy Steeds deck with laurels, and herald thy Car!
Like the Star in the East, on the Morn of Salvation!
Through the dark Empyrean it bursts on the eye,
The Beacon of Man, in the march of Creation!
290
Agincourt, Trafalgar
Thy Steeds deck with laurels, and herald thy Car!
CHORUS.
For with Spain thou hast sworn from pollution to save,Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave!
Dear, Natal Columbia! Fair Last-born of Time!
May the Orphan of Fame be the Heir of Dominion;
But, the Nest of thy Eagle looks Bleak, though Sublime,
On a Cliff, where each Tempest can shatter his pinion!
Round an Aerie so high;
The rude whirlwinds will fly,
Unless, with thy Forests, the blast thou Defy!
May the Orphan of Fame be the Heir of Dominion;
But, the Nest of thy Eagle looks Bleak, though Sublime,
On a Cliff, where each Tempest can shatter his pinion!
Round an Aerie so high;
The rude whirlwinds will fly,
Unless, with thy Forests, the blast thou Defy!
CHORUS.
And swear from pollution like Spain, thou wilt save,Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave!
Oh! to Spain, let thy Gratitude redolent burn,
First, thy Freedom to own; First, thy Shores to discover!
Hark! her Patriots, with pride, tell the Tyrant they spurn,
That the New World she found, and the Old will recover!
For Commerce and Thee!
She unbosomed the Sea,
And demands that the Gates of the Ocean be Free!
First, thy Freedom to own; First, thy Shores to discover!
Hark! her Patriots, with pride, tell the Tyrant they spurn,
That the New World she found, and the Old will recover!
For Commerce and Thee!
She unbosomed the Sea,
And demands that the Gates of the Ocean be Free!
CHORUS.
Then, swear from pollution like Spain, Thou wilt save,Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave!
Bright Day of the World! dart thy lustre afar!
Fire the North with thy heat! gild the South with thy splendor!
With thy glance light the Torch of Redintegrant War,
Till the dismembered Earth effervesce and regender!
Through each zone may'st roll,
'Till thy beams at the Pole,
Melt Philosophy's Ice in the Sea of the Soul!
Fire the North with thy heat! gild the South with thy splendor!
291
Till the dismembered Earth effervesce and regender!
Through each zone may'st roll,
'Till thy beams at the Pole,
Melt Philosophy's Ice in the Sea of the Soul!
CHORUS.
'Till Mankind from pollution their birth-right shall save:Their Flag and their Altars, their Home and their Grave.
Hail! Spirit of Spain! mount thy Battlement-walls!
With thy voice shake the clouds! break the dream of subjection!
Like a new-risen Spectre, thy Helmet appals!
And Pavia Recoils at thy Dread Resurrection!
Oh! may France, the new Rome,
Never destine thy doom,
'Till the Pyrennees sink, and thy realm is a Tomb!
With thy voice shake the clouds! break the dream of subjection!
Like a new-risen Spectre, thy Helmet appals!
And Pavia Recoils at thy Dread Resurrection!
Oh! may France, the new Rome,
Never destine thy doom,
'Till the Pyrennees sink, and thy realm is a Tomb!
CHORUS.
Rise! and swear from pollution thy Empire to save!Let thy Flag and thy Home be thy God and thy Grave!
292
ELEGIAC SONNET,
INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF M. M. HAYS, Esq.
Here sleepest thou, Man of Soul! Thy spirit flown,
How dark and tenantless its desert clay!
Cold is that heart, which throbbed at sorrows moan!
Untuned that tongue, which charmed the social day?
How dark and tenantless its desert clay!
Cold is that heart, which throbbed at sorrows moan!
Untuned that tongue, which charmed the social day?
Where now the Wit, by generous roughness graced?
Or Friendship's accent, kindling as it fell?
Or Bounty's stealing foot, whose step untraced
Had watched pale Want, and stored her famished cell?
Or Friendship's accent, kindling as it fell?
Or Bounty's stealing foot, whose step untraced
Had watched pale Want, and stored her famished cell?
Alas, 'tis all thou art! whose vigorous mind
Inspiring force to Truth and Feeling gave,
Whose rich resources equal power combined,
The gay to brighten, and instruct the grave!
Inspiring force to Truth and Feeling gave,
Whose rich resources equal power combined,
The gay to brighten, and instruct the grave!
Farewell, Adieu! Sweet Peace thy vigils keep;
For Pilgrim Virtue sojourns here to weep!
For Pilgrim Virtue sojourns here to weep!
293
ADDRESS
Again the Sun his fiery steeds has driven,
To melt with day the clouds of nether heaven.
T' Antarctic skies he shoots his torrid beams,
And bids the Naiads bathe in polar streams;
On diamond hills of ice, unsunned before,
He points his focus, and new oceans roar;
The vast suffusion gushes down the sides
Of mother earth, and gives St. Pierre his tides;
While floating Glaciers gem the torrent's way,
Exult in light, and, as they shine, decay.
Nations, from under ground, pop out their heads,
To hail the spiral morning as it spreads;
And gaze with wonder, (poor benighted souls!)
On that bright orb, which Candles gives and Coals.
Each Nymph, with furs thrown off, her face discloses,
To breathe an air that does not bite off noses;
And leaves a six-month's fire, to gather roses!
While nature, all alive, with Spring bedight,
Peals her hosannas to the Power of Light.
To melt with day the clouds of nether heaven.
T' Antarctic skies he shoots his torrid beams,
And bids the Naiads bathe in polar streams;
On diamond hills of ice, unsunned before,
He points his focus, and new oceans roar;
The vast suffusion gushes down the sides
Of mother earth, and gives St. Pierre his tides;
While floating Glaciers gem the torrent's way,
Exult in light, and, as they shine, decay.
Nations, from under ground, pop out their heads,
To hail the spiral morning as it spreads;
And gaze with wonder, (poor benighted souls!)
On that bright orb, which Candles gives and Coals.
Each Nymph, with furs thrown off, her face discloses,
To breathe an air that does not bite off noses;
And leaves a six-month's fire, to gather roses!
While nature, all alive, with Spring bedight,
Peals her hosannas to the Power of Light.
But while the joys of polar realms and tribes,
The newsboy with red-lettered rhyme describes,
'Tis fit, though bards and beggars love to roam,
To shoot a distich at great folks at home.
And here, alas, with aching heart and sad,
His Pegasus must needs become a Pad;
For sure the Muse should shuffle in her gait,
When nought but thorough pacing suits the State.
The newsboy with red-lettered rhyme describes,
'Tis fit, though bards and beggars love to roam,
To shoot a distich at great folks at home.
294
His Pegasus must needs become a Pad;
For sure the Muse should shuffle in her gait,
When nought but thorough pacing suits the State.
Who to the clime his pliant habit forms,
Has boots for mire, and roquelaures for storms;
But the news-pedlar, bold as man of rhymes,
Will face the whirlwind and will cuff the times!
Has boots for mire, and roquelaures for storms;
But the news-pedlar, bold as man of rhymes,
Will face the whirlwind and will cuff the times!
Unlike the scene, which erewhile cheered the soul,
But which we left behind us at the pole,
Is this drear season, which, of life bereft,
Gives up to Bankruptcy, what Anarch left.
Cold to the patriot's heart, and newsboy's knuckles,
Misfortune on our backs it doubly buckles;
In trade's great toe it sticks a festering splinter,
And gives us peace, democracy and winter;
Threatens a frost, to freeze our current cash,
To snap our crockery, our credit smash;
With banded hordes it fills our publick roads,
Our smoaking streets with prostate mansions loads;
Frost-nips the banks, internal taxes clips,
Makes carpenters of worms, to bore our ships;
From emigration takes off all its shackles,
And a Swiss Dray-horse in state-harness tackles;
Capacity it gives to every rogue,
And finds certificate of birth in—brogue;
Distinction levels, all allegiance blends,
And whisky cits, from bogs, to congress sends;
All strangers naturalizes—all embraces,
With no exception, but the hue of faces;
Felons from Newgate 'scaped, and vermined straw,
To rail at feather-beds, and common law;
Fools with long ears, who bray, when Patriots bawl,
Or knaves transported—with no ears at all.
But while to vagrant tribes our laws are kind,
The sable sans-culottes no mercy find;
Alas! how moral, how humane, the times,
When Philosophs compile a code of crimes!
A deadly sin the Negro's breast imbues,
He loves the female, more than Mammoth does;
And viler still to him, whose pointer nose
Smells not a poppy, as it smells a rose;
The Negro, formed a slave from Nature's hands,
“Sweats more at pores, and less secretes at glands.”
But which we left behind us at the pole,
Is this drear season, which, of life bereft,
Gives up to Bankruptcy, what Anarch left.
Cold to the patriot's heart, and newsboy's knuckles,
Misfortune on our backs it doubly buckles;
In trade's great toe it sticks a festering splinter,
And gives us peace, democracy and winter;
Threatens a frost, to freeze our current cash,
To snap our crockery, our credit smash;
With banded hordes it fills our publick roads,
Our smoaking streets with prostate mansions loads;
Frost-nips the banks, internal taxes clips,
Makes carpenters of worms, to bore our ships;
From emigration takes off all its shackles,
And a Swiss Dray-horse in state-harness tackles;
Capacity it gives to every rogue,
And finds certificate of birth in—brogue;
Distinction levels, all allegiance blends,
And whisky cits, from bogs, to congress sends;
All strangers naturalizes—all embraces,
With no exception, but the hue of faces;
295
To rail at feather-beds, and common law;
Fools with long ears, who bray, when Patriots bawl,
Or knaves transported—with no ears at all.
But while to vagrant tribes our laws are kind,
The sable sans-culottes no mercy find;
Alas! how moral, how humane, the times,
When Philosophs compile a code of crimes!
A deadly sin the Negro's breast imbues,
He loves the female, more than Mammoth does;
And viler still to him, whose pointer nose
Smells not a poppy, as it smells a rose;
The Negro, formed a slave from Nature's hands,
“Sweats more at pores, and less secretes at glands.”
Sad and reversed, as this drear scene appears,
There are, who batten on a Patriot's tears;
But still on them the same privations fall,
The Sun's a common good, and cheers us all;
And when on other realms, and distant skies,
He showers that radiance, he to us denies,
The “eager and the biting air” we feel,
May chill the limbs, but nerves the heart with steel,
For poor in soul is he, who calm can view
That plastic orb, which erst, to order true,
Th' Ecliptic path in equal course did run,
And shone the civil, like the natural sun,
Now o'er our dark horizon's ridge incline
A watery lustre, and a sloping line;
Beyond th' Equator keep his rolling throne,
And in the southern solstice shine alone!
There are, who batten on a Patriot's tears;
But still on them the same privations fall,
The Sun's a common good, and cheers us all;
And when on other realms, and distant skies,
He showers that radiance, he to us denies,
The “eager and the biting air” we feel,
May chill the limbs, but nerves the heart with steel,
For poor in soul is he, who calm can view
That plastic orb, which erst, to order true,
Th' Ecliptic path in equal course did run,
And shone the civil, like the natural sun,
Now o'er our dark horizon's ridge incline
A watery lustre, and a sloping line;
Beyond th' Equator keep his rolling throne,
And in the southern solstice shine alone!
296
TO MISS F.
[_]
The following lines appeared in the Centinel, February, 1793. They were sent to a beautiful young lady, on hearing her express a wish to ascend in Blanchard's Balloon.
Forbear, sweet girl; your scheme forego,
And thus our anxious troubles end:
That you will mount, full well we know,
But greatly fear you'll not descend.
And thus our anxious troubles end:
That you will mount, full well we know,
But greatly fear you'll not descend.
When Angels see a mortal rise,
So beautiful, divine and fair,
They'll not dismiss you from the skies,
But keep their sister Angel there.
So beautiful, divine and fair,
They'll not dismiss you from the skies,
But keep their sister Angel there.
[True, gentle bard, should lovely Grace]
True, gentle bard, should lovely Grace
On aeronautick pinions rise,
Angels would own their “Sister's” face,
Thrice welcome to her native skies.
On aeronautick pinions rise,
Angels would own their “Sister's” face,
Thrice welcome to her native skies.
But conscious should the nymph remain,
Earth's loud laments would rend their ears:
They'd send the Heroine down again,
To sooth and bless a world in tears.
Earth's loud laments would rend their ears:
They'd send the Heroine down again,
To sooth and bless a world in tears.
| The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq | |