Poems by St. John Honeywood . with some pieces in prose |
 |
On General
Washington's declining a Re-election to the Presidency of the United States.
|
 | Poems by St. John Honeywood . |  |
17
On General Washington's declining a Re-election to the Presidency of the United States.
As the rude Zemblian views, with anxious eyes,
The sun fast rolling from his wint'ry skies,
While gathering clouds the shaded vault deform,
And hollow winds announce th' impending storm,
His anguish'd soul recoils, with wild affright,
From the drear horrors of the tedious night:
Such fears alarm'd, such gloom o'ercast each mind,
When Washington his sacred trust resign'd,
And open'd to his much-lov'd country's view
Th' instructive page which bade the long adieu:
So erst Nunnides, of prophetic tongue,
Prince, victor, seer, to Juda's list'ning throng,
Gave his last blessings: So, long ages since,
Mild Solon and the stern Laconian Prince,
Those boasts of fame, their parting counsels gave,
When, worn with toils, they sought the peaceful grave.
Columbians, long preserve that peerless page,
Fraught with the counsels of your warrior-sage;
In all your archives be the gift enroll'd;
Suspend it to your walls, encas'd in gold;
Bid schools recite it; let the priestly train
Chant it on festal days, nor deem the task profane!
When round your knees your infant offspring throng,
To join the matin prayer or evening song,
Those rites perform'd, invite them to attend
The farewell counsels of their good old friend;
And say he left you, as his last bequest,
Those golden rules to make a nation blest.
O land thrice blest! if to thine interests wise,
Thy Senates learn this precious boon to prize,
While guilty Europe's blood-stain'd empires fall,
While heaven, incens'd, lets loose th' infuriate Gaul,
Thy States, in phalanx firm, a sacred band,
Safe from the mighty wreck, unmov'd shall stand.
But if, may heaven avert that shameful day!
By base intrigues or factions led astray,
With servile fondness for some foreign State,
We court their quarrels and espouse their hate,
Thenceforth farewell to dignity and fame,
For independence dwindles to a pame.
Would those who counsel kings these truths attend;
Romantic wish! for kings have ne'er a friend;
But were these rules on royal minds impress'd,
Monarchs might reign, and subjects would be bless'd;
Dantons and Robespierres had died unknown,
And the mild Capet still had grac'd a throne.
The sun fast rolling from his wint'ry skies,
While gathering clouds the shaded vault deform,
And hollow winds announce th' impending storm,
His anguish'd soul recoils, with wild affright,
From the drear horrors of the tedious night:
Such fears alarm'd, such gloom o'ercast each mind,
When Washington his sacred trust resign'd,
And open'd to his much-lov'd country's view
Th' instructive page which bade the long adieu:
So erst Nunnides, of prophetic tongue,
Prince, victor, seer, to Juda's list'ning throng,
18
Mild Solon and the stern Laconian Prince,
Those boasts of fame, their parting counsels gave,
When, worn with toils, they sought the peaceful grave.
Columbians, long preserve that peerless page,
Fraught with the counsels of your warrior-sage;
In all your archives be the gift enroll'd;
Suspend it to your walls, encas'd in gold;
Bid schools recite it; let the priestly train
Chant it on festal days, nor deem the task profane!
When round your knees your infant offspring throng,
To join the matin prayer or evening song,
Those rites perform'd, invite them to attend
The farewell counsels of their good old friend;
And say he left you, as his last bequest,
Those golden rules to make a nation blest.
O land thrice blest! if to thine interests wise,
Thy Senates learn this precious boon to prize,
While guilty Europe's blood-stain'd empires fall,
While heaven, incens'd, lets loose th' infuriate Gaul,
19
Safe from the mighty wreck, unmov'd shall stand.
But if, may heaven avert that shameful day!
By base intrigues or factions led astray,
With servile fondness for some foreign State,
We court their quarrels and espouse their hate,
Thenceforth farewell to dignity and fame,
For independence dwindles to a pame.
Would those who counsel kings these truths attend;
Romantic wish! for kings have ne'er a friend;
But were these rules on royal minds impress'd,
Monarchs might reign, and subjects would be bless'd;
Dantons and Robespierres had died unknown,
And the mild Capet still had grac'd a throne.
Behold the man, ye crown'd and ermin'd train!
And learn from him the royal art to feign.
No guards surround him or his walks infest,
No cuirass meanly shields his noble breast;
His the defence which despots ne'er can find,
The love, the prayers, the interests of mankind.
Ask ye what spoils his far-fam'd arms have won?
What cities sack'd, what hapless realms undone?
Tho' Monmouth's field supports no vulgar fame,
Tho' captur'd York shall long preserve his name,
Where brave Cornwallis, in a glorious hour,
Doff'd his proud helm, and own'd the victor's power;
I quote not these—a nobler scene behold,
Wide cultur'd fields fast ripening into gold:
There, as his toil the cheerful peasant plies,
New marts are opening and new spires arise:
Here Commerce smiles, and there en groupe are seen
The useful arts, and those of sprightlier mein.
To cheer the whole, the Muses tune the lyre,
And Independence leads the white-rob'd choir.
Trophies like these, to vulgar chiefs unknown,
Were sought and priz'd by Washington alone.
From these, with all his country's honours crown'd,
As sage in councils as in arms renown'd,
Great in this action as in all the past,
For ever true, and faithful to the last,
He turns—and urges, as his last request,
Remote from power, his weary head to rest.
Illustrious Man, adieu! yet, ere we part,
Forgive our factions which have wrung thy heart;
Still with indulgent eyes thy country see,
Whose ceaseless prayers ascend the heavens for THEE:
Go, midst the shades of tranquil Vernon stray;
In vain attempt to shun the piercing ray
Of circumambient glory—till refin'd
All that could clog to earth the heaven-lent mind,
Then rise triumphant to the blest abodes,
And join those chiefs whom Virtue rais'd to GODS.
And learn from him the royal art to feign.
No guards surround him or his walks infest,
No cuirass meanly shields his noble breast;
His the defence which despots ne'er can find,
The love, the prayers, the interests of mankind.
20
What cities sack'd, what hapless realms undone?
Tho' Monmouth's field supports no vulgar fame,
Tho' captur'd York shall long preserve his name,
Where brave Cornwallis, in a glorious hour,
Doff'd his proud helm, and own'd the victor's power;
I quote not these—a nobler scene behold,
Wide cultur'd fields fast ripening into gold:
There, as his toil the cheerful peasant plies,
New marts are opening and new spires arise:
Here Commerce smiles, and there en groupe are seen
The useful arts, and those of sprightlier mein.
To cheer the whole, the Muses tune the lyre,
And Independence leads the white-rob'd choir.
Trophies like these, to vulgar chiefs unknown,
Were sought and priz'd by Washington alone.
From these, with all his country's honours crown'd,
As sage in councils as in arms renown'd,
Great in this action as in all the past,
For ever true, and faithful to the last,
21
Remote from power, his weary head to rest.
Illustrious Man, adieu! yet, ere we part,
Forgive our factions which have wrung thy heart;
Still with indulgent eyes thy country see,
Whose ceaseless prayers ascend the heavens for THEE:
Go, midst the shades of tranquil Vernon stray;
In vain attempt to shun the piercing ray
Of circumambient glory—till refin'd
All that could clog to earth the heaven-lent mind,
Then rise triumphant to the blest abodes,
And join those chiefs whom Virtue rais'd to GODS.
Ye who have fought in Freedom's sacred cause,
Who grace our Senates and expound our laws!
Freemen, to whom your country's rights are dear,
Indulge the Muse, and lend a listening ear—
Say, if on you the rights of suffrage wait,
Whom hail we next as Father of the State?
To each has Heaven peculiar gifts assign'd,
And men, like stars, to certain spheres confin'd;
In paths eccentric few allow'd to stray,
Drawing a splendid train, and brightening all the way.
Saturnine souls, who think and act by rule,
Excel in grave debate and reasonings cool;
Impetuous minds, of more impassion'd form,
“Ride in the whirlwind, and direct the storm:”
Hence those in councils, these in arms excel,
But few indeed are those who govern well;
For in his breast, who sways the rod of State,
Must centre every gift supremely great;
And as the stars which gild the vault of night,
Unnumber'd, pour effulgence on the sight,
So chiefs and senators in crowds abound,
But rare as comets Washingtons are found.
Is there a man, thro' thrice ten years well tried,
Who ne'er has crouch'd, or meanly chang'd his side?
Ardent and foremost in his country's cause,
The friend of order and of equal laws,
Who views with stern contempt a clamorous throng,
Strife in their heart, and freedom on their tongue;
A whiffling tribe, who, at their leader's nod,
Would sell their souls, their country or their God;
Who, had they liv'd in Jove's impartial reign,
Had join'd the Giants, and enthron'd a Paine!
Is there a man in whose capacious mind
A Murray, Locke, and Chatham live combin'd,
Who joins to all that men or books have taught,
The fire of genius and the force of thought?
Is there a man, who in these changeful days,
Unaw'd by censure, unallur'd by praise,
True to his aim, and obstinately good,
While factions rag'd, unmov'd as Atlas stood;
Whose ancient morals stoics might revere,
And Rome, reviv'd, behold her Censor here;
Such as ere Grecian spoils her temples grac'd.
And solid virtue sunk to Attic taste?
Should such a man preside, the land were blest—
Advert your eyes, and Adams stands confest.
Fir'd at the name, enraptur'd Fancy flies,
Old Time rolls back, and years long past arise,
To memory fresh unfolds a solemn scene;
Columbia's sires in high divan convene,
Of dread concerns commission'd to consult,
And chains or empire wait the grand result:
Full in the front I see the patriot stand,
All fire his eye, all energy his hand;
Such graceful majesty round Tully shone,
When Rome's proud master trembled on his throne:
“Ye guardian powers of eloquence divine,
“Prepare each soul to grasp the grand design!
“Inspire my tongue the glorious cause to plead,
“Impel each hand to sign the deathless deed.”—
He ceas'd—Assent remurmur'd thro' the throng,
While Independence thunder'd from his tongue.
Who grace our Senates and expound our laws!
Freemen, to whom your country's rights are dear,
Indulge the Muse, and lend a listening ear—
Say, if on you the rights of suffrage wait,
Whom hail we next as Father of the State?
To each has Heaven peculiar gifts assign'd,
And men, like stars, to certain spheres confin'd;
22
Drawing a splendid train, and brightening all the way.
Saturnine souls, who think and act by rule,
Excel in grave debate and reasonings cool;
Impetuous minds, of more impassion'd form,
“Ride in the whirlwind, and direct the storm:”
Hence those in councils, these in arms excel,
But few indeed are those who govern well;
For in his breast, who sways the rod of State,
Must centre every gift supremely great;
And as the stars which gild the vault of night,
Unnumber'd, pour effulgence on the sight,
So chiefs and senators in crowds abound,
But rare as comets Washingtons are found.
Is there a man, thro' thrice ten years well tried,
Who ne'er has crouch'd, or meanly chang'd his side?
Ardent and foremost in his country's cause,
The friend of order and of equal laws,
Who views with stern contempt a clamorous throng,
Strife in their heart, and freedom on their tongue;
23
Would sell their souls, their country or their God;
Who, had they liv'd in Jove's impartial reign,
Had join'd the Giants, and enthron'd a Paine!
Is there a man in whose capacious mind
A Murray, Locke, and Chatham live combin'd,
Who joins to all that men or books have taught,
The fire of genius and the force of thought?
Is there a man, who in these changeful days,
Unaw'd by censure, unallur'd by praise,
True to his aim, and obstinately good,
While factions rag'd, unmov'd as Atlas stood;
Whose ancient morals stoics might revere,
And Rome, reviv'd, behold her Censor here;
Such as ere Grecian spoils her temples grac'd.
And solid virtue sunk to Attic taste?
Should such a man preside, the land were blest—
Advert your eyes, and Adams stands confest.
Fir'd at the name, enraptur'd Fancy flies,
Old Time rolls back, and years long past arise,
24
Columbia's sires in high divan convene,
Of dread concerns commission'd to consult,
And chains or empire wait the grand result:
Full in the front I see the patriot stand,
All fire his eye, all energy his hand;
Such graceful majesty round Tully shone,
When Rome's proud master trembled on his throne:
“Ye guardian powers of eloquence divine,
“Prepare each soul to grasp the grand design!
“Inspire my tongue the glorious cause to plead,
“Impel each hand to sign the deathless deed.”—
He ceas'd—Assent remurmur'd thro' the throng,
While Independence thunder'd from his tongue.
| Poems by St. John Honeywood . | |