University of Virginia Library

Columbia hail! each patriot's boast and pride,
Where virtue glories, and the brave reside;
Where Freedom dwells in charms celestial fair,
And bold unfurls her banners in the air.—
Smiling she roves the ever blooming fields,
Views the grand landscape which the mountain yields,
She silent ponders on old Hudson's brow,
And hears his waters rolling loud below.
She to the city turns her beaming eyes,
And sees its columns tow'ring to the skies;
Enchantingly, she smiles, and waves her hair,
Which flows in ringlets with an easy air.
A snowy robe conceals her heavenly form,
And screens the goddess from the howling storm;
A graceful cap sits lightly on her head,
And nodding plumes her placid brows o'erspread.
Her polish'd leg an an azure buskin binds,
There the rich diamond, in transparence shines,
A thoughtful glow spreads her enticing face,
Each look is beauty, and each movement grace.
Her form divine, her mien, her charming air,
Equally graceful, elegant and fair.
Lo! yonder comes, from yon reclusive grove,
Along whose thickets, rills meand'ring rove,
Her sister genius with majestic tread,
Fair wreaths of laurel grace her sacred head:
A splendid garb behind flows loosely down,
Her lovely waist two starry belts surround.—
Her azure eye far darts its piercing rays,
Explores the planets in their wheeling ways;
Fair Nature's stores, the ocean's rolling wave,
The tow'ring mountain and the dismal cave:
An awful grandeur, with enchanting ease,
Commanding dignity, each charm to please,
Dwell in her gestures, and her melting strain,
And quell the passions to her happy reign—,
The youth enraptur'd follows to her shade,
And gives his soul to the celestial maid.

The goddess speaks! what soft melodious sound,
Casts its sweet music, and its accents round!
What soothing strains enchant the panting breast,
And lull its sorrows and its cares to rest.

“Columbian youth! my spacious paths pursue,
“My lone retreats I wide extend to you;
“Let not the mountain's steep and rugged height,
“Retard your way, or terrify your sight:
“Once when you climb its bold and haughty brow,
“The plains of Eden sweetly bloom below:
“Its streams and lawns delight the wand'ring eye,
“Its cascades murmur and its zephyrs sigh,
“Its lonely gardens in luxuriance bloom,
“Breathe forth their songs and shed their mild perfume.

“The views of Nature which my Newton made,
“The scenes of science which this sage survey'd:
“The sight of terror which my Franklin drew
“When from the clouds the lawful lightning flew,
“Strive favourite youth with eager warmth to claim,
“And join with Franklin your immortal name—
“Be it your care to charm the list'ning throng,
“To bear their passions with your speech along;
“But seek no art save gestures graceful air,
“The affectations weak bombastic glare:
“Let Nature prompt the feelings of the soul,
“And hold the passions in her just controul.

“Does eloquence entice you with its charms,
“Columbia hails you with her joyful arms;
“Within her senate Independence reigns,
“And binds no sycophant in royal chains;
“Here raise your voice in Freedom's sacred cause,
“Adopt those schemes congenial with her laws.
“The orator of Greece in Freedom's aid,
“And in the garb of eloquence array'd,
“Rous'd from their slumbers every Grecian chief;

“Each grasp'd his sword and flew to her relief.
“Rome's lofty temples and her splendid feats,
“Her fragrant gardens and her cool retreats,
“The spacious capitol where virtue bloom'd,
“The traitorous Cataline would have consum'd;
“Had not a Tully rear'd aloft his head,
“Dispell'd his schemes and struck the traitor dead.

“What breast is callous to poetic force,
“Who feels no rapture from this passion'd source?
“If fondness leads, let poesy be thine,
“Court the sweet favours of the tuneful nine:
“But if they shun your anxious request,
“Cast the fond wishes from your youthful breast;
“But if they smile, and glad approve your lays,
“Still prove more worthy of their thrilling praise.

“But stay, if gold is pleasing to your sight,
“And wealth and equipage your mind's delight;
“The Muse bestows no favours but her strain,
“No other friend to sooth thee in thy pain.

The goddess ceas'd; her arms bewitching spread,
And wav'd the laurels which adorn'd her head.
The vocal throngs which listen'd on their trees,
The lulling murmur of the evening breeze,
Which paus'd in silence when the goddess spoke,
Wak'd from their transports and their slumbers broke:
They raise again their soft and matin strains,
And breath their music o'er the silent plains.