The miscellaneous works of David Humphreys Late Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States of America to the Court of Madrid |
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 | The miscellaneous works of David Humphreys |  |
Why sleep'st thou, Barlow, child of genius? why
See'st thou, blest Dwight, our land in sadness lie?
And where is Trumbull, earliest boast of fame?
'Tis yours, ye bards, to wake the smother'd flame—
To you, my dearest friends! the task belongs
To rouse your country with heroic songs;
For me, though glowing with conceptions warm,
I find no equal words to give them form:
Pent in my breast, the madd'ning tempest raves,
Like prison'd fires in Ætna's burning caves;
For me why will no thund'ring numbers roll?
Why, niggard language, dost thou balk my soul?
Come thou sweet feeling of another's woe,
That mak'st the heart to melt, the eye to flow!
Deep-stinging sensibility of wrong,
Aid indignation, and inspire my song!
Teach me curst slav'ry cruel woes to paint,
Beneath whose weight our captur'd freemen faint!
Teach me in shades of Stygian night to trace,
In characters of hell, the pirate race!
Teach me, prophetic, to disclose their doom—
A new-born nation trampling on their tomb!
See'st thou, blest Dwight, our land in sadness lie?
And where is Trumbull, earliest boast of fame?
'Tis yours, ye bards, to wake the smother'd flame—
To you, my dearest friends! the task belongs
To rouse your country with heroic songs;
For me, though glowing with conceptions warm,
I find no equal words to give them form:
Pent in my breast, the madd'ning tempest raves,
Like prison'd fires in Ætna's burning caves;
For me why will no thund'ring numbers roll?
Why, niggard language, dost thou balk my soul?
Come thou sweet feeling of another's woe,
That mak'st the heart to melt, the eye to flow!
Deep-stinging sensibility of wrong,
Aid indignation, and inspire my song!
Teach me curst slav'ry cruel woes to paint,
Beneath whose weight our captur'd freemen faint!
Teach me in shades of Stygian night to trace,
In characters of hell, the pirate race!
Teach me, prophetic, to disclose their doom—
A new-born nation trampling on their tomb!
| The miscellaneous works of David Humphreys | |