 | Poems of Freneau |  |
THE BERGEN PLANTER.
Attached to lands that ne'er deceived his hopes,
This rustic sees the seasons come and go,
His autumn's toils returned in summer's crops,
While limpid streams, to cool his herbage, flow;
And, if some cares intrude upon his mind,
They are such cares as heaven for man designed.
This rustic sees the seasons come and go,
His autumn's toils returned in summer's crops,
While limpid streams, to cool his herbage, flow;
And, if some cares intrude upon his mind,
They are such cares as heaven for man designed.
He to no pompous dome comes, cap in hand,
Where new-made 'squires affect the courtly smile:
Nor where Pomposo, 'midst his foreign band
Extols the sway of kings, in swelling style,
With tongue that babbled when it should have hushed,
A head that never thought—a face that never blushed.
Where new-made 'squires affect the courtly smile:
Nor where Pomposo, 'midst his foreign band
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With tongue that babbled when it should have hushed,
A head that never thought—a face that never blushed.
He on no party hangs his hopes or fears,
Nor seeks the vote that baseness must procure;
No stall-fed Mammon, for his gold, reveres,
No splendid offers from his chests allure.
While showers descend, and suns their beams display,
The same to him, if Congress go or stay.
Nor seeks the vote that baseness must procure;
No stall-fed Mammon, for his gold, reveres,
No splendid offers from his chests allure.
While showers descend, and suns their beams display,
The same to him, if Congress go or stay.
He at no levees watches for a glance,
(Slave to disgusting, distant forms and modes)
Heeds not the herd of Bufo's midnight dance,
Dullman's mean rhymes, or Sawny's birth-day odes:
Follies, like these, he deems beneath his care,
And TITLES leaves for simpletons to wear.
(Slave to disgusting, distant forms and modes)
Heeds not the herd of Bufo's midnight dance,
Dullman's mean rhymes, or Sawny's birth-day odes:
Follies, like these, he deems beneath his care,
And TITLES leaves for simpletons to wear.
Where wandering brooks from mountain sources roll,
He seeks at noon the waters of the shade,
Drinks deep, and fears no poison in the bowl
That Nature for her happiest children made:
And from whose clear and gently-passing wave
All drink alike—the master and the slave.
He seeks at noon the waters of the shade,
Drinks deep, and fears no poison in the bowl
That Nature for her happiest children made:
And from whose clear and gently-passing wave
All drink alike—the master and the slave.
The scheming statesman shuns his homely door,
Who, on the miseries of his country fed,
Ne'er glanced his eye from that base pilfered store,
To view the sword, suspended by a thread—
Nor that “hand-writing,” graved upon the wall,
That tells him—but in vain—“the sword must fall.”
Who, on the miseries of his country fed,
Ne'er glanced his eye from that base pilfered store,
To view the sword, suspended by a thread—
Nor that “hand-writing,” graved upon the wall,
That tells him—but in vain—“the sword must fall.”
He ne'er was made a holiday machine,
Wheeled here and there by 'squires in livery clad,
Nor dreads the sons of legislation keen,
Hard-hearted laws, and penalties most sad—
In humble hope his little fields were sown,
A trifle, in your eye—but all his own.
Wheeled here and there by 'squires in livery clad,
Nor dreads the sons of legislation keen,
Hard-hearted laws, and penalties most sad—
In humble hope his little fields were sown,
A trifle, in your eye—but all his own.
1790
| Poems of Freneau | |