The Anarchiad | ||
AMERICAN ANTIQUITIES.—No. V.
EXTRACT FROM MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS FOUND IN THE SAME FORT WITH THE ANARCHIAD.
Songs on love, conviviality, martial achievements, and imperial glory, are common to all nations. The composition of such songs as tend to excite the feelings of patriotism, has been deemed an object of no small importance. It has even been supposed that this species of poetry, accompanied with music calculated for and understood by the multitude, may have as much influence on their manners, as the civil institutions of legislation. Indeed, a political writer, of eminence, has gone so far as to assert that it did not matter so much who had the power of making laws, as who had that of making songs for the people. The British seem to have sung themselves into a belief that their naval prowess is invincible. And this belief has contributed not a little to establish their empire on the main. If Americans could be taught to revere themselves; if they could be made to realize their consequence, in the scale of existence, so far from being desperate in their situation, the inhabitants of such a country, under such circumstances for happiness, might be considered as the
TO THE TUNE OF
In dalliance soft, and amorous play,
On Amphytrite's breast,” &c.
1
Where spirits dwell, and shadowy forms,On Andes' cliffs, 'mid black'ning storms,
With livid lightnings curl'd;
In thunder rais'd his voice sublime,
And hush'd the list'ning world.
2
In lonely waves, and wastes of earth,A mighty empire claims its birth,
And Heaven asserts the claim;
The sails that hang in yon dim sky,
Proclaim the promis'd era nigh,
Which wakes a world to fame.
3
Hail! ye first bounding ships that roamBlue tumbling billows topp'd with foam,
That keel ne'er plowed before!
Here suns perform their useless round,
Here rove the naked tribes embrown'd,
Who feed on living gore.
4
To midnight orgies, off'rings dire,The human sacrifice in fire,
A heavenly light succeeds:
But, lo! what horrors intervene,
The toils severe, the carnage scene,
And more than mortal deeds!
5
Ye Fathers! spread your fame afar!'Tis yours to still the sounds of war,
And bid the slaughter cease;
The peopling hamlets wide extend,
The harvests spring, the spires ascend,
'Mid grateful songs of peace!
6
Shall steed to steed, and man to man,With discord thundering in the van,
Again destroy the bliss!
Enough my mystic words reveal;
The rest the shades of night conceal,
In fate's profound abyss!
The Anarchiad | ||