Poems on several occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

What Ills from Want of Education flow,
From Avarice what cruel Scenes of Woe;
I mean to sing, except the tuneful Maid
Neglect my Numbers, and refuse her Aid.
Say, Goddess, first, what made the Youth explore
A foreign Clime, and quit his native Shore?
Say too, how on the barb'rous Isle he came;
What mov'd the Kindness of the Negro Dame?

What could provoke a faithless Youth to sell
A Friend, whose only Crime was loving well?

Now had Avaro twenty Winters pass'd,
His blooming Features ev'ry Beauty grac'd;
In silver Rings, his loosely flowing Hair
Hung o'er his Shoulders, with a comely Air;
Robust his Limbs, and daring was his Soul,
And Vigour crown'd the well-proportion'd Whole:
His graceful Charms the Ladies oft survey'd,
And oft their Eyes an am'rous Signal made;
But never could the tender Passion move,
The stubborn Youth was still averse to Love;
Yet, tho' his Breast was Proof to Cupid's Dart,
A more ignoble God enslav'd his Heart.

No Mysteries of Faith disturb'd his Head;
For Mysteries of Faith he seldom read;

That moral Law, which Nature had imprest,
He blotted from the Volume of his Breast;
Yet in his Mind his Father's Precepts bears,
Who often rung this Lesson in his Ears:
“Would you, my Son, to Happiness aspire,
“Know, Gold alone can Happiness acquire;
“He that has Gold, is pow'rful as a King,
“Has Valour, Virtue, Wisdom, ev'ry thing!
“This to obtain, your utmost Skill bestow;
“And if you gain it, be not careful how:
“If in the Court, or Camp, you take Delight,
“Then dare to flatter there, or here to fight:
“Or, should the Merchant's Life your Fancy please,
“Be bold, and bravely venture on the Seas;
“Many by Merchandize have gain'd Renown,
“And made the Indies Wealth become their own.”
The Youth imbib'd the Precepts of his Tongue,
Neglecting ev'ry Law of Right and Wrong;

Taught by his Sire to court destructive Gain,
He burns to try his Fortune on the Main.

While other Youths, by Wit or Pleasure sway'd,
Frequent the Play, the Ball, or Masquerade;
Avaro studious in his Chamber stays,
Careless of Balls, of Masquerades, and Plays;
There adds, subtracts, and, with unweary'd Pain,
Learns all the Rules of Int'rest, Loss and Gain.

Next, from an old Astronomer, he tries
To learn the Planets Journey thro' the Skies;
With him, at Night, when Heav'n serene appears,
He points the Quadrant at the shining Spheres;
The Hyades, and frozen Pole surveys,
Which guide the Sailor o'er the distant Seas;
Then Maps and Models of our Globe prepares,
And carefully inspects both Hemispheres;

From East to West he views the spacious Round,
Pleas'd with the modern World Columbus found:
In Hope elate, the Youth impatient stands,
And seems to grasp both Indies in his Hands.
This sees the Sire, and hastily provides
A Vessel, proof against the Wind and Tides.
The Youth embarks, the soft propitious Gales
Arise, and soon expand the swelling Sails;
The Ship glides swiftly o'er the liquid Plain,
And Neptune smiles, and courts him on the Main.

But see, how Mortals are the Sport of Fate!
How oft unhappy, striving to be great!
Ere Cynthia twice her monthly Race had run,
An Omen of the fatal Storm begun:
The murm'ring Wind arises by degrees,
And rocks the Ship, and sweeps the curling Seas;

Now louder, with impetuous Force, it roars,
And shoves the swelling Surges to the Shores;
Till rapid Rain, and Flakes of bick'ring Flame,
With dreadful Thunder, vex th'ethereal Frame.
Struck with Surprize, the tim'rous Merchant stands,
Nor knows what he forbids, or what commands:
Nor safely back, nor can he forwards go;
But trembling waits, and fears the fatal Blow.

Long time the Sailers work against the Wind,
With fruitless Toil, to gain the Port assign'd;
Till Courage, Hope, and all Provisions fail'd,
And Fear, Despair, and Want their Souls assail'd.
Forc'd by the Storm into a winding Bay,
Their joyful Eyes an Indian Isle survey;
When straight they quit their Ship, and gain the Shore,
And for Recruits the Savage Land explore.

Adjoining to the dreary Beach, there stood
Wild Shrubs and Trees, that form'd a gloomy Wood;
Where, close obscur'd, the crafty Natives lay,
And watch'd the wand'ring Crew, remote from Sea:
Then forth they rush, and strait their Bows prepare;
Too late the Sailers see th'approaching War:
In vain the Brave engage, or Tim'rous fly;
The Tim'rous, and the Brave, promiscuous die;
The barb'rous Fields are stain'd with purple Gore
And dreadful Groanings echo to the Shore.
Our youthful Merchant 'scapes, and flies alone;
His Fear impels, and Safety prompts him on;
Thro' dusky Woods he takes his trembling Flight,
The dusky Woods conceal him from their Sight;
Till in the devious Wilds, remote from Foes,
Then, on the Ground, he weeping vents his Woes,

Oft curs'd his hapless Fate, and often thought
On what the hoary Star-monger had taught;
How, at our Birth, as diff'rent Planets rule,
They form a Wit, or constitute a Fool;
How, in the Maze of Life, we act as they
Attract, retard, or force us in the Way.
And, as he these uncertain Censures made,
Against the Stars he thus exclaiming said:

The Planets sure some noxious Pow'r display,
And rule my Life with arbitrary Sway;
Else had I ne'er forsook my native Home,
Nor in this baleful Desert met my Doom—
And yet, when I reflect, I cannot see,
How Globes insensible should influence me!
I chuse my Actions; when the Choice is made
I nor invoke, nor yet consult their Aid.

When Mortals act according to their Will,
Can Heav'n be call'd the Author of their Ill?
Too late I find, the Stars are not in Fault;
But 'tis that golden Wish my Sire has taught:
Enticing Gold, that damn'd deceiving Guide,
Induc'd me first to stem the foaming Tide;
Fallacious Charm, that led me from Repose,
Now leaves me in a Labyrinth of Woes.

So, when compacted Vapours, in the Night,
Skim o'er the Fields, with a delusive Light,
The injudicious Traveller surveys
Th'alluring Scene, and courts the glist'ring Blaze;
Till, tempted o'er a Rock's impending Brow,
He falls to some tremendous Gulph below.

Thus the unhappy Youth laments his Fate,
Conscious of all the Ills, that round him wait;

Till setting Phoebus leaves the blushing Sky,
And glimm'ring Stars a feeble Light supply:
The Shades of Night increase his anxious Care,
And add a greater Horror to Despair.