DD 
 
 ru 
 
LlfftARY 
 
 CAUFCXNU 
 


 ON V 
 RELIGIOUS, MORAL, SENTIMENTAL AND 
 
 BY WILLIAM RAY. 
 
 TO TVHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 -A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR ? S LIFE, AND 
 
 OF HIS CAPTIVITY AND SUFFERINGS A- 
 
 MONG THE TURKS AND BARBARIANS 
 
 OF TRIPOLI, ON THE COAST OF 
 
 AFRICA - WRITTEN BY 
 
 HIMSELF, 
 
 To thee, O sacred Muse, belongs 
 Devotion s humble roice, 
 
 That breaks in sw_-et adorinfr songs, 
 
 Like tJiose where holy 
 EttrualJy rrjoiee. 
 
 AUBURN : 
 
 FBINTED BV U. S. DOUBLEDAY. 
 1821. 
 
IOAN STACK 
 
 NORTHERN PISTR1CT > 
 
 Of NEW-YOWK, 3 TO WIT: 
 
 BE IT RKMEMKEUED,-ThQt on the eighth day 
 L. . of October, in the forty-sixth tear of the In < prud 
 
 ence c the Unit -d Stvei of America, A D. i2i, 
 WILLIAM HAY, ot the said District, has ilepOM- 
 
 -*ffl in this Office the title of a Bo<>k, the right whereof he claims as 
 A uti or, in the \vr<i* following, to wit: 
 
 ** P<* mi, on var oos su ifects, IftcTig- ons, Moral, ?entinent) nnd 
 
 Hwm ions. BY WILLIAM RAY. To M hich is adde:l, a bnet skt-tvh 
 
 of.tlie fliiihoi- s life, anl ol his captivity and Mffieiingl nu)iig tlie 1 nrk* 
 
 arid Barbarians of Tripoli, on the coast of Africa ; written by himself. 
 
 "To thet, O sacred Mine, belongs 
 
 Devotion s humble voice 1 . 
 That breaks in swee adoring soners, 
 Lite th se wlim- holy angcl-;h<oi:gs 
 
 Eu-rn:>!iy rejoice. 
 
 Tn conrormify to he act of the Conprt or the L T ;,ited Stntrs,enr|tlrrt 
 * An *ct fiirthe i"iicoura>,cnieiir of learning, by semrinsr the copiei of 
 Mups, Charts, ard Pooki. to tlu authors snd pn printers o! such copies, 
 (lining ihe times rlnTein nit-ntiened ;" and alo, to the act ei ti lril An 
 ct snj.plt rnentary to ar- act entitled k Ai> act for the ei couracement of 
 leaii>ii!R, by securing the p-- ot-MT^is, Cliartv, end Books, tc. the 
 authors and proprietor* of such copies during th times therein men- 
 t --:netl, aud ex-end-r tf>e bentfrs t.Vereo* to le arts 01 Designing, 
 Engraving ard Etching historic^! and other prii ts-* 
 
 HK H D R. LANSING. Clei-k 
 of tie Northern District of Ncw.Voilr, 
 
THE Editors ef Public Journals have been pleas 
 ed to express their spontaneous sentiments in 
 iiivor of some cf the poems in the following 
 work. From a multiplicity of complimentary 
 remarks, and public notices, the subsequent ones 
 are extracted. 
 
 " In the following, as well from the initials W. R. 
 as Irom the elegant flow of genius, ve recognize 
 ll.e pen of the distinguished American poet, \Vil- 
 liam Ray. Esq." Palladium of Liberty. 
 
 "The Sacred Melodies of Byron and Moore, 
 have been much admired, and many of t-iem very 
 justly : but we do not recollect one of them, and 
 we have read them all, which we think superior to 
 the following, which is avowedly from the pen of 
 ^Vililam Ray." 2 lough-Boy. 
 
 " The following beautiful lines are from the pen 
 of William Ray, Esq. ot Onondaga. whose poetical 
 effusions have often delighted the public, and whose 
 genius and taste ought to have secured to him t-.e 
 smiles, instead ot the sternest frowns, of For 
 tune." Nett -Yurlc Statesman. 
 
 " The following poem is from the pen of Wil 
 liam Ray, that favorite of genius and son of mis 
 fortune.* 7 dlbary Register. 
 
 " Mr. Ray, as a poet, possesses genius of no or 
 dinary cast. Many of his effusions, humorous., 
 niorul and Penti mental, we have read with great 
 pleasure, and we have no doubr he will nuke an 
 feo tereatio volume. A cir- Turk Sectator. 
 
 589 
 
IV. 
 
 i( We can judge of the general character of the 
 Poems proposed to be published by William Ray, 
 only by the merit of such of them as have occa 
 sionally appeared in the public newspapers. Those 
 we have seen, evinced, in our opinion, genius of 
 no common order, genuine poetic taste, purity of 
 sentiment, and occasionally a richness of figure 
 and harmony of style, fully equal to some of the 
 eminent English poets. His religious effusions 
 breathe the fervor of sincere devotion, and speak 
 the sentiments and feelings of the cheerful Chris 
 tian, who looks through Nature up to Nature s 
 God ; hi# moral and sentimental pieces are such 
 as he who loves Virtue for herself alone, would 
 fasten on his memory ; and his humorous produc 
 tions never degenerate into lascivious lyrics, but 
 uniformly convey a lesson slyly to the heart."* 
 Neiv-York Journal and latron of Industry^ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IT is said, I think by Dr. Johnson? 
 that a work which requires an apology 
 from the author for making it public, 
 for that very reason never ought to be 
 published. As to the literary merit of 
 a work, this may be true ; but in some 
 other respects^ it may not. I must beg 
 leave, therefore, to dissent from this 
 general opinion of the great Doctor, so 
 far as to say, that several of the follow 
 ing poems were written without much 
 study or reflection, as the spontaneous 
 thoughts of the writer, at times of great 
 political excitement ; and that they have 
 been retained in this publication, not to 
 revive party prejudices, but only as 
 specimens of the spirit of those times, 
 now past, when the writer thought pro 
 per to exercise the common privilege of 
 expressing his sentiments in this form, 
 and which he then chose that is, in a 
 loose and careless set of rhymes. 
 Should he be so unfortunate as to give 
 
vK PREFACE. 
 
 offence to any of his readers, all he has 
 to *a\, is, that he shall severely lament 
 such a perverted construction oi his 
 meaning, and ishail not cease to declare, 
 tlial it is Car, very far from his intention 
 toghe the least umbrage to any of his 
 ieliow- citizen* in the subsequent pa 
 ges, either in a moral, political, reli 
 gious, or any other point of view. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 TT>ey that sow in tears shall reap in joy, . . .10 
 
 The Uiiuc i, , .... 12 
 
 Death, . . . . 13 
 
 Hjjnn for Thanksgiving, ... .16 
 
 To A Christian bel evtr under affliction, . . 16 
 
 RrLgiou ...... IS 
 
 Sprrait ing of the Gospel, . ... 20 
 
 A precious Halsam, . . . SI 
 
 The rich man ana Lazarus, . . . .23 
 
 Death o the CLrti. n and the Prayer of Faith, . .26 
 
 To tire Msuri.t.isi or Atheist, . . . .29 
 
 Summer evening, ... ,39 
 
 To iwt, . ... 32 
 
 The Plough Boy, . . .37 
 
 The ML- drcant, . . . . : 41 
 
 Memento, ..:... 44 
 
 Execuiion of Richard Smith, . . . .47 
 
 Ou the massacre oi lite American prisoners, at Dartmoor prison, 49 
 FaKe estimate of the wor 1, . . . .52 
 
 Vu-e an ! Virtue, Libert,} and Oppression, . . . 54 
 
 To my youn.4 niece, , .... 57 
 
 To th nir-inory Of General Pike, . . . 59 &. 1 T * 
 
 I> dependence, . . . . . . 
 
 F ith. . . . . 63 
 
 R. ,;oice with them that do rejoice, &e. . . .64 
 
 K< -Ytars Address, 1817, eg 
 
 A Voyage, ...... 9 
 
 E icicising ship, ..... 70 
 
 T .e L, : >*f, . . . . 72 
 
 El Ky on the death of John Hilliard, , . . 74 & l ; 1 
 
 .E!e^-. oi the dt-ath of L : >eut. James Decatur, . . 74 
 
 L ^(Mresved to Gen. Eaton, . . 77 
 
 De^tr.p :oii it Tripoli, . . . . . 79 
 
 Vt a . or a pr.i p- ct of it, . ; . . . 81 
 
 To she memory oi CumacklorePreblc, . . .83 
 
 . . 87 
 
viii. CONTENTS. 
 
 A poefic .1 address, . . . . m, 
 
 Song, written m Tropili, .... 95 
 
 Political, ...... 97 
 
 To those democratic members of Congress who votetifor the salary bilLSQ 
 The paper;, . . . . 102 
 
 Evils. ..... .105 
 
 Spring, ... 107 
 
 Sjinpaihy, . .109 
 
 To Summer, . . . . . .111 
 
 Autumn, ... ... 114 
 
 The way to be happy, . . . .115 
 
 Worai.n, . . . . . .117 
 
 Fire, .... . . . 118 
 
 Spring 120 
 
 Eighteen hundred twenty, . .121 
 
 Spring, . . . 123 
 
 The plough boy and the dandy, . 125 
 
 The Hill and Hollow, . .127 
 
 The grand canal, 13 
 
 The complaint, . . 133 
 
 From a mttii in the earth to man in the moon, . . IS5 
 
 Village Greatik< ss, . ... 137 
 
 The thunuer storm. . . . 139 
 
 The Hive, . 140 
 
 False friendship, . .142 
 
 Uemorse on killing a squ irel, . . . 144 
 
 To the bard ol I hUadclphia, . - 146 
 
 I*w, - 148 
 
 Tom Eagle, - - 150 
 
 Perpetual motion, ... m 
 
 New \i;urs a:idrtss, 1819, . . 153 
 
 Return ot spring and approach of May, - -153 
 
 The carrier ot the Plough iloj 10 his patrons, . ieo 
 
 Carrier s address to Uu p.itroiis ol the New-York Statesman, 165 
 Ke\vkthrs address ior 1821, - 109 
 
 Carner ot tiie Gazeue and Ouoridaga Advt rtiser to his patrons, 172 
 Petition to the Conveition in behall o! the ladies, 174 
 
 Klt-gy on tlie clra li of James Chauncey Alaun, . 177 
 
 Kxordium, - 183 
 
 the Author s Life, * - 199 
 
POEMS 
 
 From the Albany Register, Feb. 28, 1817. 
 
 We are indebted to WILLIAM RAY, Esq. of Oaon- 
 daga,for the following pious and beautiful effusion. 
 Mr. RAY is a self-taught genius. Many of his po 
 ems are very excellent, and want nothing but the 
 prunings and graftings of his own judgment, in a 
 deliberate moment, to render them worthy of uni 
 versal patronage. 
 
 In Religious Poetry, a new era is commencing. 
 The plain and almost literal versions of the Psalms 
 of David, in metrical composition, which have hith 
 erto stood unrivalled, are giving way to versions 
 of a more figurative and poetical cast, from the 
 pens of BYROX and MOORE. The latter, we think, 
 excels in his flights in this exalted and sublime re 
 gion of the MUSES. But our own RAY, if he would 
 but devote himself to the task, iiji^ht prove that 
 Europe is not the exclusive seat of the Muses, nor 
 the only source of SACRED MELODIES, calculated to 
 inspire a relish for Scriptural reading, and to in 
 struct and delight the Philosopher and the Chris 
 tian. 
 
 In the following effusion, Vve perceive the son of 
 adversity, calmly smiling at the storms of life, 
 B 
 
10 POEMS. 
 
 which serve but to point him to a higher sphere of 
 existence, to animate his hopes and brighten his 
 prospects of " another and a better world." 
 
 " Tfiey that sow in tears, shall reap in joy." 
 
 PSALMS. 
 CONTRITE mourner ! though thy tears, 
 
 Like the melting show rs of spring, 
 Fall from clouds of grief and fears, 
 Fruitful harvests shall they bring ; 
 Harvests where no toils annoy, 
 Sown in tears, but reap d in joy. 
 
 Hast thou lost a bosom friend, 
 
 Buried lifeless in the clay? 
 Of thy sorrows see an end, 
 
 At the last great harvest day : 
 Though his body worms destroy, 
 Sown in tears, tis rais d in joy. 
 
 Disappointments hast thou found, 
 
 Disconcerting ev ry scheme ? 
 Sow thy hopes in heav nly ground, 
 
 Earthly bliss is all a dream : 
 Pleasures fatally decoy, 
 Reap d in tears, if sown in joy. 
 
 Keen afflictions dost thou feel, 
 Poverty, disease, and pain ? 
 
POEMS. 11 
 
 iEnow, the hand that ivounds can heal, 
 
 Temporal loss eternal gain : 
 Rich the harvest, sweet th employ 
 Sown in tears, to reap in joy. 
 
 Sent to call the wand rer home, 
 Lov d, if chasten d by the LORD. 
 
 Lo ! he bids the contrite come 
 By his spirit in his word 
 
 To exchange a puerile-iojc, . 
 
 For a world of endless joy. 
 
 Wounded mourner ! cease to weep, 
 Though foul crimes may stain thy soul, 
 
 Boundless MERCY, free and deep, 
 Bids thee wash, be clean, and whole ; 
 
 Then go reap, with no alloy, 
 
 HARVESTS OF ETERNAL JOY. 
 
 From the Plough Boy. 
 
 Iii a former number, we mentioned Mr Ray as a 
 poetical writer of more than ordinary merit " T .e 
 following effusion- will justify our opinion. The 
 Sacred Melodies of Byron and Moore have been 
 much admired, and many of them very justly. 
 But we do not recollect one of them, and we have 
 read them all, which we think superior to the fol 
 lowing, which is avowedly from the pen of William 
 
POEMS; 
 THE CHURCH. 
 
 PURE and holy is the source, 
 
 "Whence thy stream, O Zion, rose; 
 
 See, majestic in its course, 
 Regions vast it overflows, 
 
 Fertilizing like the Nile, 
 
 Barren continent and isle. 
 
 Angel-ministers attend 
 
 On its flovv ry margins meet 
 
 Heavenly-choral anthems blend, 
 (Muaic ravishing! y sweet) 
 
 With a SAVIOUR S voice divine, 
 
 Turning all its floods to wine. 
 
 Ho, ye thirsty, gather round, 
 Drink your everlasting fill I. 
 
 Hear the gospel tidings sound 
 " Peace on earth, to men good willf- 
 
 Yet unbroken is the strain, 
 
 Heard upon the shepherd s plain. 
 
 CHRIST, the BISHOP of our souls, 
 Open will the channel keep ; 
 
 Free the tide of mercy rolls, 
 As the billows of the deep; 
 
 Broad and copious as the wave, 
 
 Js the inifcbum that he gave ;-~ 
 
POEMS; 
 
 Ev ry creature go and teach, 
 
 You I send as I am sent, 
 AVide ordained my word to preach a 
 
 Calling millions to repent, 
 This uninterrupted line 
 Shall be endless is divine. ? 
 
 Lo the CHURCH of CHRIST appears 
 Fair in lustre as the moon ! 
 
 Brighter, from the night of years, 
 
 Than the cloudless Sun at noon 
 Terribly she moves along, 
 As an army-bannerd throng ! 
 
 Life dispensing as she goes, 
 
 Glory beaming from her face, 
 Conquering her rebellious foes, 
 
 13y the pow r of boundless grace 
 By the Spirit s two-edg d sword 
 Througn the might of CHRIST our LORD. 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 DEATH S what a dreadful thought to those 
 Who build their heav n on earth, and lay 
 The basis of their future woes, 
 
 Which floods can never wash a\vav. 
 On rocks whilst all their hopes -must stand 
 Like dwellings built upon the sand. 
 B 2 
 
14 POEMS. 
 
 Plagues, like the billows of the deep, 
 Around their frail foundations pour ; 
 
 Their honors level d at a sweep, 
 And lo! their glory is no more ! 
 
 Eternity s tremendous waves 
 
 Of fiery vengeance, prove their graves! 
 
 DEATH ! how appalling is the sound 
 
 To age yet uprepared to die 
 To AGE who surely must have found 
 
 That life s last watch is passing by, 
 And yet, O madness ! never seem 
 To wake from folly s awful dream 1 
 
 DEATH ! how alarming is the call 
 To youth, by lawless pleasures led, 
 
 Who see their inmates daily fall, 
 Amid gay sports among the dead ; 
 
 And yet their dangerous course pursue, 
 
 "With naught but keen remorse in view. 
 
 DEATH ! Dark and dismal is the sight, 
 To all who are of sin the slave ; 
 
 To those who never saw that light 
 
 Which cheers our passage to the grave j 
 
 To those who never felt that love, 
 
 Which charms the raptur d hosts above. 
 
 But DEATH ! how welcome to the soul 
 Diseas d aud sorrowing pain d with fears- 
 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Till by a lively faith made whole, 
 And wasli d in penitential tears, 
 It longs to mingle with the bless d- 
 Longs for a heav n of holy rest. 
 
 HYMN FOR THANKSGIVING. 
 
 DECEMBER 22, 1819. 
 
 TO THEE, ALMIGHTY LORD, we raise 
 Our hearts and hand* in pray r and praise, 
 For all thy mercies plead and prove 
 Thy word is true, that " GOD is LOVE." 
 
 How many dangers, woes and fears, 
 Have pass d like dreams of other years, 
 How many blessings from above, 
 Sound as they fall, that GOD is LOVE." 
 
 That pestilence, whose venom d breath 
 Infus d the very life of. Death, 
 The voice of mercy bade " remove," 
 And thus proclainvd that " GOD is LOVE.** 
 
 The bounteous products of the soil, 
 
 The rich reward of honest toil, 
 
 To praise the LORD our tongues should move. 
 
 For these attest, that " GOD i& LOVE." 
 
 Freedom her golden gifts extends 
 To us, her faithful chosen friends - y 
 
4" POEMS. 
 
 The breeze of health waves every grove, 
 And gen tlv whispers, ." GOD is LOVE. ?:> 
 
 Science her light around us pours, 
 Religion triumphs Faith adores, 
 While peac, the heavenly turtle-dove, 
 Coos in soft strains, that " GOD is LOVE." 
 
 But brighter attestations shine 
 
 Recorded in that Book divine, 
 
 The SAViOUR s mission from above, 
 
 SEALS THE GREAT TRUTH, THAT GOD is LOVE, 
 
 TO A CHRISTIAN BELIEVER UNDER 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 HEIR of immortal glory ! why 
 
 At care and want repine ? 
 Hast thou not joys enough on i^h ? 
 
 Are not lieav n s treasures th.ne ? 
 
 Treasures which neither moth nor rust 
 Corrupts, nor thieves can share; 
 
 But opened by the pure and just, 
 The key of faith in prayer. 
 
 Why then so wretched ? come, relate 
 
 AY hat weighs thy spirits down ? 
 Has FRIENDSHIP turn cl her love to hate, 
 
 And left thee with a frown ? 
 
POEMS. If 
 
 Has base INGRATITUDE repaid 
 
 Thy favors with disdain 
 A menial in thy gifts array d, 
 
 Grown insolent and vain ? 
 
 Has HAPPINESS, with all her charms, 
 
 When blessing thee a while, 
 Gone to some envious rival s arms, 
 
 !Novv basking in her smile ? 
 
 Do foes encompass thee around, 
 
 And threaten to destroy 
 That peace which only can be found, 
 
 In calm domestic joy ? 
 
 Is not the ALMIGHTY LORD thy friend. 
 Though friends are faithless here? 
 
 And canst thou not on him depend, 
 To vanquish every fear ? 
 
 Has DEATH, with coM unsparing hand, 
 
 Thy brightest hopes-laid low, 
 In heaven those hopes shall live, expand, 
 
 Re-bloom, and brighter grow. 
 
 And though the world with scornful look, 
 
 Thy low estate despise, 
 "With patience firm those insults brook 5 
 
 Thou iav rite of the skies. 
 
YS POEMS; 
 
 A few more years, (perchance a day) 
 Shall waft thy soul above, 
 
 Where every tear is wip d away, 
 And all is peace and love. 
 
 Heir of immortal bliss ! then why 
 
 At worldly woes repine ? 
 When all heav n s joys before thee lie, 
 
 And are by promise thine. 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Ask but the man who has a head 
 
 Susceptible of thought; 
 A heart not all to virtue dead, 
 
 But feeling as it ought; 
 
 Whether he candidly believe* 
 
 Religion all a jest; 
 A farce which purposely deceives, 
 
 To make the soul unblest ? 
 
 Would God, all merciful and just, 
 
 A weapon thus employ, 
 Our hopes to prostrate in the dust, 
 
 And stab our only joy ? 
 
 Ah, no what millions answer no, - 
 Who feel its vital pow r, 
 
POEMS, 
 
 A balm for ev ry poignant woe, 
 In trouble s painful hour : 
 
 A lamp which casts beyond the grare 
 
 Its ever cheering ray; 
 A ransom for the hell-bound slave 
 
 And endless, joyous day . 
 
 What can the atheist, in exchange, 
 Give for so great a prize ? 
 
 Annihilation s lot (how strange) 
 For kingdoms in the skies 
 
 A few base sordid pleasures, here, 
 Scarce worth a fool s pursuit ; 
 
 And for eternity a yearJ 
 
 A seraph for a brute ! 
 
 Blot from the universe the sun, 
 
 And ev ry paler light : 
 See all creation s works undone, 
 
 And sunk in endless night; 
 
 Take, ruthless infidel, away, 
 
 Whatever else you can, 
 But leave, O leave us mental dayj 
 
 The light of GOD to man. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 SPREADING OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 STAR IN THE WEST. 
 
 find I will give him the Morning Star. Rev. 
 T ? ILLUME the earth s benighted face, 
 With beams of all-redeeming grace- 
 To g;ive that face, in tears erewhile, 
 A placid, heav nly joyous smile 
 To light the weary world to rest, 
 A star is rising in the west. 
 
 "With lustre mild and look serene, 
 
 The fair phenomenon is seen ; 
 
 A lamp, to guide the darksome way 
 
 Of infidelity astray, 
 
 Back to the regions of the blest 
 
 A star is rising in the west! 
 
 Has nature, then, revers d her scheme? 
 Does from the ivest a day-star beam ? 
 Yes But it is not nature s light ; 
 A star more heav nly, pure and bright, 
 Shines from the Great Immanuel s breasts 
 To light the nations in the west, 
 
 "When stars of night and suns of day, 
 Extinguish d shall have pass d away; 
 And this vast universe decay d 
 Dissolved to nothing but a shade, 
 Of that supernal gem possess d, 
 The star that s rising in the west 
 
POEMS. 
 
 When stars of night, and suns of day, 
 Extinguish d, shall have passM away; 
 And this vast universe, decay d 
 Dissolved to nothing but a shade, 
 Of that supernal gem possessed, 
 The star that s rising in the west, 
 
 What joyful millions shall behold, 
 And feel, its mysteries unfold 
 A sun of glory,- brighter grown, * 
 Blazing around JEHOVAH S throne ! 
 By all the ransom d throng ccnfeas d, 
 . The star that now illumes the ivest. 
 
 A PRECIOUS BALSAM. 
 THERE is a balsam all may find, 
 To heal the deeply-wounded mind, 
 
 Though mortal may that wound appear; 
 The lame, the halt, the blind, the deaf, 
 The dumb, the dying own relief, 
 
 Nor is it what the world calls dean 
 
 It costs the broken heart a 
 The contrite spirit, prau r ; 
 
 It costs the penitential eye, 
 A look for mercy then*. 
 
 C 
 
22 POEMS. 
 
 Rich is the treasure : for it gives 
 To ev ry needy soul that lives, 
 
 The gold of health, for dross 
 For trouble, joy for sorrow, bliss , 
 And, in a better world than this, 
 
 A kingdom for a cross. 
 
 Tis not the merchandize of earth, 
 Her empires ne er contain d its worth ; 
 
 In realms of heav n alone, 
 There, on the Tree of Life, it grows, 
 Where the full stream of mercy flows, 
 
 Around the ALMIGHTY S throne. 
 
 Angels in pity bear it thence, 
 As mortals seek the prize 
 The rich catholicon dispense 
 
 It opens blind-born eyes ! 
 From tongues that never spake before, 
 The deaf now hear loud anthems roar ! 
 
 The Great Physician s skill, 
 
 The tenor of their song ; 
 The same that cures has pow r to kill, 
 
 Or anguish to prolong. 
 
 No analyzing pow r 
 
 Its properties require ; 
 No flames refine it, or devour, 
 
 Nor hell s eternal fire. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Kfi-own in a thousand various climes 
 
 By spurious terms express J ; 
 Though there the bigot s bloody crimes 
 
 Are often with it dress d ; 
 
 Yet to apply its Jenuine pow r, 
 
 How few have found the art 
 Tis known His calPd in death s dread hour, 
 
 RELIGION of the heart. 
 
 [Sensible.that nothing can be added to the beau 
 ty and sublimity of the Scripture, the Author, in 
 the following, has not aimed at any embellishments 
 of style, but^merely to give a plain literal versifica 
 tionnot with the hope of improving upon the in 
 spired penman, but with the view of turning the 
 reader s more deep attention to the awful story, aa 
 related in the sacred volume of DIVINE TRUTH.] 
 
 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS, 
 A CERTAIN rich man, worldly blest, 
 In purple and fine linen drest, 
 
 Liv d sumptuous ev ry day; 
 And lo ! a beggar at his doors, 
 Naked and starving, full of sores, > 
 
 In humble posture lay ; 
 
 Craving the scanty Crumbs that fell. 
 Arotnd his table, furnish d well, 
 With high, delicious fare ; 
 
24 POEMS. 
 
 E en dogs their sympathy expressed, 
 And to the way-worn stranger-guest, 
 ShowM ev ry tender care : 
 
 Their soft and healing tongues applied-*- 
 Tongues to the use of speed? denied, 
 
 How eloquently mute ! 
 Proclaiming more than language can, 
 The cold benevolence of man, 
 
 Contrasted with the brute ! 
 
 But what an awful sequel flows 
 From human grandeur human woas, 
 
 And how reversed the scene ! 
 From earth to heav n from heav n to hell, 
 The one was call d the other fell 
 
 A yawning gulph between ! 
 
 From regions of eternal pain, 
 The rich man lifts his eyes in vain, 
 
 To realms forever blest- 
 Sees Laz rus, late his haughty scorn, 
 Whom glorious vestments now adorn, 
 
 In Abram s bosom rest. 
 
 4 Send Laz rus,* was the fruitless pray r, 
 From the lost soul of ghast despair, 
 
 With flaming tortures wrung, 
 * In water let his linger dip, 
 And touch, if only with the tip, 
 
 And cool my burning tongue. * 
 
POEMS, 25 
 
 Remember, son, the Patriarch cried, 
 In all the pomp of wealth and pride, 
 
 Thou recently didst roll ; 
 Laz rus, then doouvd to want and pain. 
 Now in immortal bliss shall reign, 
 
 While torments rend thy soul. 
 
 Fraternal feeling, nature s dart, 
 PiercM the hard centre of a heart 
 
 Condemn d to endless woe ; 
 * To my five brethren Laz rus send, 
 To warn them of my fearful end, 
 
 Lest they the like should know. 
 
 Thus roar d the hopeless heir of hell, 
 Whom sainted Abram deigns to tell ; 
 
 * The prophets and the law 
 They have ; and let them see in those, 
 How free Almighty mercy flows, 
 
 And thence salvation draw. 
 
 Nay, father Abram, ansvver d he, 
 c But if a ghostly form they see, 
 
 On such commission sent, 
 Surely a message from the dead, 
 Would strike their souls with quiv rirtg dread, 
 
 And cause them to repeat. 
 
 * If Moses and the prophets they 
 Refuse to follow and obey , 
 C 2 
 
6 .POEMS. 
 
 Believe, (said he) embrace 
 Not all the terrors of the grave, 
 Of death and hell, the wretch shall save, 
 
 Who spurns redeeming grace. 
 
 Thus ends the dialogue between 
 
 The bless d and curs d -tremendous sceae. 
 
 Hell kindling with the great ! 
 The niggard souls of misers, too, 
 May take an awful, timely viev/ 
 
 Of their portentious fate. 
 
 From the Plough Boy. 
 MR. RAY S ODE. 
 
 The pious reader will be highly gratified in the 
 perusal of Mr. RAY S ode, in our columns of this 
 day. \Ve understand Mr. R. contemplates pub 
 lishing a revised and corrected edition of his poems. 
 Jf so, we cannot but wish him success. The most 
 of them are pious effusions, and many of them 
 written in the true spirit of poetry, arid the fervor 
 of genius. 
 
 DEATH OF THE CHRISTIANAND TUB 
 PRAYER OF FAITH. 
 
 " that I might die the death of the Righteous." 
 
 I. 
 
 JOYFUL, and yet tremendous hour, 
 
 When from the dungeon cell of clay, 
 
POEMS. 27- 
 
 The soul, by Death s dissolving powV, 
 Breaks forth looks roundand ail is day ! 
 
 A vast eternity before 
 
 The disembodied spirit lies, 
 
 And shudd ring on its awful shore, 
 The new-born nestling of the skies, 
 
 <jazinp;and wond ring, soars with eagle Sight, 
 
 Through stars and suns undazzled at the sight 
 II. 
 
 And Oh! what wonders burst upon the view, 
 As Heaven s all glorious splendors wide unjbhk 
 
 "What sweet Hosannas anthems ever new 
 What thrones of saphire diadems of gold, 
 
 Of suffering, spotless virtue, the reward, 
 
 Await fot all the ransoni d of the Lord. 
 III. 
 
 The Spirit and the bride say come, 
 
 Enjoy thy ever-blissful home; 
 
 Again arch-angels strike their lyres-* 
 
 Again Redemption s joyful song, 
 
 Warbled through all the heav nly throng, 
 
 From every saint and angel s tongue, 
 
 In holy chorus pours along;, 
 And rapturous bliss inspires. 
 IV. 
 
 A robe of pure unsullied white, 
 Tlie blood -wash d soul adorns, 
 
 A. crown, with stars of glory bright^ 
 
8 POEMS. 
 
 Stars that have never seen the night, 
 
 Is giv n by Him whose countenance is light, 
 
 By him who once was crown d with thorns. 
 
 V. 
 The ravish d soul looks down on earth, 
 
 Benighted world of griefs and fears; 
 Vast nations buoyant on a scalding flood, 
 
 Of human misery s tears, 
 Whole kingdoms wreaking with the blood 
 
 Of virtue s holy martyrs, years on years ; 
 A World that gave a SAVIOUR birth, 
 
 How wretched wretched now, thlPworld ap 
 pears ! 
 
 VI. 
 Gould earthly woes celestial realms invade, 
 
 O erwhelm d with sorrows would the righteous bsf 9 
 But here, forever, thy proud waves are stay d, 
 
 Thou troubled ocean of mortality ; 
 Death and eternity, the wall and line, 
 That bars affliction, mortal from divine. 
 No dreams of sufferings past, or worldly woes, 
 Disturb the tranquil morn of Faith s repose ; 
 But rest unceasing to the saint is given, 
 And all the life, and bliss, and heaven of heaven. 
 
 VII. 
 Oh ! for the wings of the bright early morning, 
 
 Svvitter than light would they bear me away, 
 Whore those blest martyrs are both worlds adorning*, 
 
 Fairer than beauty, and brighter than day. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 OK! for the death bf the righteous and holy, 
 Oh! for the vict ry o er hell and the grave, 
 
 Come, blessed moments, why travel so slowly ? 
 GOD, is thine arm not Almighty to save ? 
 
 Save me from scenes of unparallel d sorrow, 
 Darker lhan night-clouds that shut out my soul 
 
 From the blest day-spring of hope on the morrow. 
 Thunders of Sinai, how awful ye roll ! 
 
 But, from the regions of glory supernal, 
 
 Breaks a sweet voice, full of comfort and lovej 
 
 GOD in his mercy, unchang d and eternal, 
 Wounds but to heal thee with raptures above. 
 
 TO THE MATERIALIST OR ATHEIST, 
 " THERE is A GOD V all nature cries 
 
 Th rough boundless space the paean roars! 
 " THERE is A GOD * man s heart replies, 
 Burns and adores ! 
 
 Could matter self-existence give 
 
 Work into forms a shapeless clod 
 Think reason breathe and move and live- 
 Matter were GOD. 
 
 But that hath ne er assum d such pow rs,, 
 J T would not he matter were it so ; 
 
30 POEMS. 
 
 Nor Could these mystic minds of ours, 
 From nothing flow i 
 
 Nor could they flaw without a source 
 
 A great intelligent FIRST CAUSE ! 
 Who gave to matter life and force 
 To nature laws: 
 
 Who gave to man a conscious soul - 
 
 An emanation of his breath ; 
 A part of that eternal WHOLE 
 
 Shall ne er see death. 
 
 w THERE is A GOD" all nature cries 
 
 Through boundless space loud echo roars ! 
 " THERE is A GOD" heav n earth replies, 
 KNEELS and ADORES. 
 
 SUMMER EVENING. 
 CALM SUNSET was clothed in a beautiful cloud 
 
 Of crimson embroidered with gold, 
 And though you might call it the day s fun ral 
 
 shroud, 
 ? Twas splendidly rich to behold. 
 
 But soon those bright garments assumM a dark hue, 
 As day -light took leave of the skies, 
 
 And Evening was weeping in tear-drops of dew f 
 That fell from her star-beaming eyes. 
 
POEM$. Si 
 
 fFhtis nature a lesson to mortals conveys, 
 
 And teaches us duly to mourn 
 The joys that are past, and the loss of those days, 
 
 That are gone, and shall never return.J 
 
 The clouds vanish d all, and the full rising moon 
 Again cheer d the world with her light, 
 
 Surpassing in mildness the splendor of noon 
 In truth twas the MORNING or NIGHT. 
 
 Thus sorrow and gladness, like darkness and day, 
 
 Alternately rise and depart 
 
 Alternately brighten these visions of clay, 
 
 Or deepen the gloom of the heart. 
 
 The stars they all haii d their legitimate queen. 
 The heav ns and the earth wore a smile; 
 
 But ah ! the most joyous magnificent scene 
 Of nature, shall last but a while. 
 
 The dark cloud of Death shall envelope us all 
 
 No light on the universe shine 
 The sun, moon, and stars, crush the earth as they 
 fall, 
 
 And perish But VIRTUE divine, 
 
 That seraph immortal, triumphant shall soar 
 
 Above the last flashes of time, 
 Re-land on ETERNITY S joy-sounding shore, 
 
 And, live in her own native clime. 
 
-32 POEMS. 
 
 Where brightness, transcending the blaze of tin 
 sun, 
 
 Encircles th ALMIGHTY i AM, 
 And visible renders the great THREE IN ONE 
 
 The glory of GOD and the LAMB. 
 
 TO PART. 
 
 WHAT a heart-piercing verb is this 
 The murd rer of all earthly bliss 
 
 O Death, tis ovvn d thy keenest dart-- 
 A festering thorn to man s repose, 
 The sharpest sting of human woes, 
 
 Is HeavVs decree that friends must FART. 
 
 Think on the death-bed on the shroud 
 The wailing friends the sober crowd 
 
 The mournful coffin- groaning cart- 
 That must so shortly bear away 
 This feeble tenement of clay 
 
 That must the soul and bodyjpor/. y 
 
 In life s endearing tender ties, 
 We look with fond adoring eyes, 
 
 On all that s precious to the heart, 
 The partner of our wedded joys, 
 And b?\bes with such bewitching toys, 
 
 How can a parent ever part! 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Whene er they cluster round my knee, 
 -In angel innocence, I see 
 
 The charms of nature, not of art; 
 Oft as I clasp them to ray soul, 
 In spite of man the tears will roil, 
 
 To think must we ever part i 
 
 And when around the board we meet 
 - Long absent frieijds, in converse sweet, 
 
 We feel a secret thrilling smart, 
 That soon will come that painful hour, 
 {For Time the space will quick devout,) 
 
 The sad adieu, when we must part ! 
 
 ] Xerxes, that great victorious chief, 
 Wept with unconquerable grief, 
 
 (Ambition gave his tears the start) 
 To think his countless legions must, 
 In one short century fall to dust, 
 
 And he with all his honors pan / 
 
 But holier sympathies unite 
 Congenial souls in pure delight, 
 
 Who steer by love s heaven-guided chart 
 And though affliction s tempests rise, 
 Their winds shall waft us to the skies, 
 
 niiere/riend with friend shall weuer PART, 
 
34 POEMS. 
 
 From the Plough Soy. 
 HOMESPUN POETRY. 
 
 "We have a friend who possesses a poetic imagi 
 nation, though not a classical scholar, and is apt 
 DOW and then to indulge it, especially when sub 
 jects present themselves congenial with the cur 
 rent of his sentiments, which are those of a Chris 
 tian Philosopher, and a true American Plough Boy. 
 
 We suspect this friend of purs has been recently 
 engaged in paying his devoirs at the shrine of the 
 muses ; and that the following poem is the fruit of 
 his harmonious intercourse with the tuneful nine. 
 This little poem has been several weeks in our pos 
 session ; but the reader will agree with us that we 
 could not have delayed its publication on account 
 of its want of merit; for we hazard nothing in as 
 serting that the critic, however fastidious, will find 
 much to admire, and little, to censure, in this genu 
 ine native effusion. 
 
 The eighth line is perhaps the most, if not the 
 only objectionable one in the poem. 
 
 " Suli in his fi<f, and head-reins in hU hands. 
 
 The defect in this line is too obvious to need illus 
 tration, and we are satisfied could have escaped 
 the author s notice only in the haste of composition. 
 13ut the picture, in which this faulty line occurs, of 
 the Plough Boy, rising with the dawn, and " brush 
 ing with hasty steps the dews away," in search of 
 his team, luring the animals to his grasp, and final 
 ly setting them at work, is happily and naturally 
 Hit off; and the little episode, found in the compa 
 rison between the arts of the Plough Boy, on this 
 occasion, and those of the political demagogue, on 
 a different one, is not the worst part of this anima 
 ted description. 
 
POEMS. 3; 
 
 ch for the fact but are inclined 
 .t \YiLLi\M HAY, Esq. of Onaiiib^n, 
 is the author of this lie has written u = 
 
 pi ec os ->: merit, of more t hau ordinary merit : and 
 were it not that our countrymen are so much dis 
 posed to 2,0 abroad for almost every acquisition, 
 from literature down to lustring, and from poetry 
 down to pins and padlocks, we should feel inclined 
 t:> advise Mr. RAY to arrange, revise, and publish 
 his p.>etical works. But the homespun spirit is not 
 widely enough diffused at present. We are still 
 too fond of looking to Europe, and particularly to 
 Great Britain, to supply our moral and intellectu 
 al, as well as material and physical necessities. 
 
 The teoderand the amatory, as well as the patriot 
 ic strains of LADD, that son of genius and heir of mis 
 fortune, whose muse of energy enlivened the dark 
 est period of our revolution; and the moral, pathet 
 ic, religious and philosophical effusions of HAY, an 
 other favorite of genius, but foot-ball of fortune 
 to say nothing of the productions cf many interme 
 diate, and cott- mporary votaries of the nuises ; 
 these may continue to*s!eep in -the poetical depart 
 ment:; of newspapers and magazines, and even the 
 lively, pindarie and elegant effusions which at 
 this moment appear under the signature of CROAK 
 ER & Co. should they swell to a voluminous size, 
 after a short lived popularity, may probably b^ heard 
 of no more ; whilst every catch-penny effort of 
 British genius, will be hailed, as at present, in eve 
 ry circle that pretends to literary tas e, genius or 
 philosophy, not only as a welcome visitor, but, an 
 indispensable companion in the solitary hour ! 
 How long;, Americans, shall these things be ! Ho v 
 :on^- will van sub nit to be told, in the tauntinjr lan- 
 gua^e of British Reviewers, that you have neither 
 
36 POEMS. 
 
 genius, taste nor learning; that you have had, in 
 deed, in the walks of poetry," a Mr D wight ; ancf 
 his baptismal name- was 3ftwot/tf/f 51 fctid in those 
 of philosophy, you had a Franklin, imbed, and 
 may afford to live for half a century on his lame." 
 These malicious sarcasms on the literary character 
 of our country, are quoted from thela^t Edinburgh 
 JKeview ; a work which has been stamped by no or 
 dinary degree of merit, but which from the speci 
 men before us, we should say is exhibiting vnarka 
 of decline. But be this as it may, whilst we neg 
 lect our own poets on the supposition that they are 
 not equal to th<ose of other climc ; and in bhorr, 
 \vhilst we give the preference to foreign produc 
 tions of almost every kind or description ; we must 
 expect to be held up by other nation as destitute 
 of genius, science and enterprize. But this is not 
 the worst of the evil. If we do not encourage our own 
 talents, we depress and stifle that ambition, which 
 leads (o the exercise of talent, which springs either 
 from the desire of fame, or the love of wealth, or 
 both ; and which constitutes, next to richness of 
 soil, and salubrity of climate, the most important 
 source of national fame, and prosperity. 
 
 If the Moral Plough Boy need any apology for 
 weaving this poem into one of his numbers, it is to 
 be found in the license he has given himself of ma 
 king such use as he may think proper of the labors 
 of his correspondents j besides, all poetry, the epic 
 and the amatory, the satyrical and the sentimental, 
 with here and there a licentious exception, is calcu 
 lated to improve the heart, by invigorating its mo 
 ral energies. The poem before us, inculcates that 
 simplicity of life and of manners, and those indus 
 trious habits, which are the surest foundations of 
 virtue, morality, and human 
 
POEMS. &r 
 
 THE PLOUGH BOY. 
 
 THE Plough Boy, using at the dawn of day, 
 His team to muster speeds his cheerful way ; 
 In ;ioiiiespuh fabrics, coul, but cleanly d rest- 
 Health in his eye, and in his bcsoci rest 
 He feels no dullness, no depression knows; 
 Alert from labor, vig rous from repose. 
 Buunds o er the wall, or on its suunnit stands, 
 Salt in his dish, and heau-reins in his hands; 
 Thence from his lips the wliisihii^ summons rings ., 
 Or verbal jack, jack, prompt obedience brings ; 
 Each list ning steed the well known accent hears, 
 Lifts Ins long head and points his spiral ears ; 
 Lurd bv the signals of the wily swain, 
 Responsive neighs, and stamps across the plain, 
 Licks the tough hand, so friendly seen to wave, 
 Tuat feeds to ensnare, caresses to enslave. 
 
 (Thus many a demagogue, election day, 
 The pop lace wheedles, only to betray, 
 And many a wight, unconscious of the guile, 
 His independence barters for a smile.) 
 
 g by those pests that suck their vital gore, 
 The frisking vassals, harness tl up before, 
 And tackled to the plough-beam, onward go, 
 Fierce, but submissive, resolute but slow, 
 Whene er tn< rocky soi> impedes the share, 
 Or roots and stumps might tempt a saint to swear: 
 D 2 
 
38 POEMS. 
 
 But when the furrowing mould no barrier owns, 
 IS* brush to tangle, and no batterih ; stones, 
 Smooth glides the well directed keel along, 
 And the hills echo with the Plough Boy s song. 
 
 I-ow is that mind which pride hath taught to scorn 
 "What GOD bequealh d and destin d to adorn 
 The works of Nature, and to feed the flame 
 That warms and animates our mystic frame ; 
 The now r, the foivsi^ht, and the skill to ply, 
 And make a clod prolific of the sky ; 
 For GOD hath promis d, and to LABOR given, 
 The clews, the sunshine, and the rains of heaven. 
 Seed lime and harvest, plenty and employ, 
 Peace undisturbed, and undiuiini&h d joy. 
 Mean is that spirit, slavish is the soul, 
 To mail s true glory sightless as the mole, 
 Which treats the hardy peasant of the plain, 
 "With sneering arrogance and chill disdain ; 
 From whose brown hand he draws his daily breau^, 
 Aud from whose industry a world is fed. 
 Shall dusty toil and tillage raise disgust 
 3n man, whose end and origin is dust? 
 Could our maternal Earth assume a tongue, 
 Where all must lie, and whence the proudest 
 
 sprung, 
 
 JIow would she chide th* effeminate, who dare 
 Insult her dignity, and strip her bare 
 Of aii tjiose hoii jrs which the wise aud gocd ; 
 
POEMS. & 
 
 Have heapM upon her, since creation stood! 
 
 Bards, heroes, sages, in those days of old, 
 
 When streams were silver, rocks and mountains 
 
 gold, 
 
 Whan evTy grove a deity possessed, 
 And all was peace and plenty, joy and rest 
 Hevv d down those groves, nor deemM the spot 
 
 profaa d, 
 But ploughM and planted where their ods had 
 
 reign d. 
 
 Great CIXCINXATUS ! statesman, warrior brave, 
 "Who didst thy country serve thy country save i 
 Where shines the purest lustre of thy fame? 
 What gives to immortality thy name? 
 Is it. thy victories that thy readers charm 
 Thy slaughtering sword, and thy puissant arm, 
 That crush d her foes, and quelrd tumultuous 
 
 Rome ? 
 
 Or thy calm virtues, and thy rural home, 
 Stord with the products of t >e bounteous soil, 
 The well-earn d trophies of agrarian toil ? 
 The fadeless laurels that adorn d thy brow, 
 Grew from the culture of the laboring plough, 
 He-id by that hand which armies taught to yield, 
 Again triumphant in a brighter fk iu. 
 W:iere genius, greatness, in seclusion, bhcne 
 Auuve the Uudry tenant ci a, tlurone* 
 
tt POEMS. 
 
 And greater still than all the chiefs of yore, 
 "Whose name idolatry tui^ht well adore 
 Immortal WASHINGTON made forests bow, 
 And learn d through life to * Venerate the Plough* * 
 
 Sons of America . awake, arise ! 
 to, bright before you what a prospect lies I 
 A wide extended country, blest and free; 
 Majestic rivers, many an inland sea ; 
 Waiting the spade and plough, to bid them pour 
 Through vales that never saw nor iieard them 
 
 roar 
 
 Lands rich, productive, facile to obtain. 
 Pledge to reward your industry with gain ; 
 To waft your surpiuss luxuries, where sold, 
 And fill your purses with exotic gold ! 
 Leave, leave your legal trafic gew-gaw stores 
 Your " dandy" fripp ries- kick them out of 
 
 doors 
 
 Change, for a frock, that most tremendous cloak ; 
 "Wield the keen axe, and fell the lofty oak -, 
 Your best devoirs to AGRICULTURE pay. 
 
 thus to future glory PLOUGH your way. 
 
FOEM& 4* 
 
 THE MENDICANT, 
 POOR, dejected and forlorn, 
 Visage bloated, raiment torn* 
 Son of misVy ! child of wo ! 
 Wildly wandVmg to and fro 5 
 Whatso er the cause that led 
 To thy present want of bread, 
 Turn, forsaken wretch ! and see, 
 Here is one who pities thee ! 
 
 Heir-apparent once of bliss, 
 "What a feritage is thia ! 
 How hast thou thy title lost; 
 What a heavy bill of cost ! 
 Bring, bring thy suit again, 
 Biead where none e er plead in vain ! 
 Send to HEAVEN thy special pica; 
 There is ONE who pities thee. 
 
 Hast thou murdered precious time? 
 Red as scarlet is the crime ! 
 Hast thou courted pleasure s smilei, 
 Guilt s applause, ami flatt ry a \vilca T 
 Barter d in thy youthful days, 
 Honor for illicit praise ? 
 Virtue s paradise resign d, 
 Best oi" body, peace of mind, 
 Midst the thorns of vice to stroll, - 
 or a dreary waste of soul? 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Far from happiness away, 
 Lost to all but beasts of prry 1 
 O return, from wantl ring cease, 
 " Virtue s paths arc paths of peace/ 
 Though thy crimes, in number, vie 
 With the stars in yonder sky; 
 Though thy sins are counted more 
 Thau the sands upon the shore ; 
 Bend to Hcav n the suppliant knee, 
 There is One who pities thee. 
 Cease to censure, cease to chide, 
 Pimps of pleasure ! slaves of pride ! 
 Heav n misfortune oft may send, 
 For a wise and gracious end ; 
 Wrest from us our earthly joys, 
 Puerile riches, painted toys 
 Like a parent snatch away, 
 Lest we strangle while we play; 
 Neither let your lips accuse, 
 Neither let your hands refuse a 
 When a fellow worm you see, 
 Asking* bread, man, of thee. 
 Is he guilty so art thou, 
 Is he needy give him, now a 
 Trusting to a future day, 
 For thy recoin pence of pay. 
 Come, then child of sorrow, come! 
 Seek my pity, share my home I 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Though as LazVus mean and poor, 
 I will never bolt my door, 
 But will bid thee welcome in, 
 Poverty is not a sin ; 
 Though my crumbs but thinly fall, 
 Thou shalt freely have them all ; 
 What thou art, is nought to me, 
 Here is one who pities thee. 
 
 " Twas misfortune s heavy blow 
 " Brought me, as you see me, low; 
 * My full cup of pleasure spilt, 
 " Mingled with the dregs of guilt, 
 " Is there one who can forgive r" 
 Yes, return, repent and live ; 
 Heav n has blessings full and free 5 
 There is One who pities thee ; 
 Only in his word believe, 
 Ask, and lo ! thou shalt receive ! 
 Seek, and thou shalt truly find 
 Heav n on earth the rest of mind ; 
 Knock, and open d is the door, 
 .Enter thou, but DRINK no more. 
 
44 POEMS. 
 
 MEMENTO. 
 
 Just on the brow of Ononclaga Hill, close by the 
 great western turnpike, at the skirt of a wood, is 
 a grave, rendered more gloomy and solemn by a 
 *leep gulph below ; which has a tombstone with, 
 the following inscription In memory of Cap- 
 fain BENJAMIN BRANCH, of the 1st Regt. U.S. 
 Light Artillery, a native of Virginia; who died 
 in the 27th year of his age, Oct. 10, i814, on his 
 March to the Frontier." 
 
 TRAVELLER pause a moment stay^ 
 Nature s impulse soft obey; 
 Ere you from the spot depart, 
 Read this tombstone read your heart; 
 Learn the lesson each can give 
 Death is sure to all that live ; 
 Death is giv n, to save from de^th, 
 What is dearer far than breath : 
 Save the soul from earthly fears, 
 Days of grief and nights of tears, 
 ^From the grave s dark prison chains* 
 From eternal hopeless pains ! 
 What a blessing ! what a prize! 
 ? Tis the day -break of the skies. 
 Transformation how sublime., 
 To eternity from time ! 
 Not t astonish d angeis giv n, 
 O ! phenomenon of heav n ! 
 But the blessing, though so dear, 
 Mortals shun, for mortals fear 
 
POEMS. 
 
 T)read to pass that awful gate, 
 Open d by the key of fate ; 
 Blackness, darkness, all within, 
 What a thunder- cloud is sin ! 
 Whence tremendous threat r nings roll ! 
 Flash upon the dying soul ! 
 Till the beams of mercy shine, 
 Then, O sun ! O sun divine ! 
 Darkness thoushait chace away 
 All is morning cloudless day. 
 Here a youth unheeded lies, 
 Ouce the joy of parents eyes ; 
 Here a heart now lifeless, coid, 
 Once so feeling, once so bold ; 
 Ardent, hopeful, courting fame, 
 Burning with the patriot s flame ; 
 Lo! extinguished all its fires, 
 Lo! the Jji anch of hope expires! 
 "Withers in a foreign grave, 
 Such the laurels of the brave ! 
 Was there when he died of late, 
 / there none to mour.i his fatj? 
 NJ fond brother s tender sou!, 
 While the tears of anguish roll 
 No kind sister s rahiin- eyrs, 
 Looking to the northern allies 
 
46 -POEMS. 
 
 No deep-wounded parents breast. 
 Darting, robbing a request 
 
 * Tel! me, must our hopes be o er? 
 Tell me, does he live no more ? 
 Where is then his body laid ? 
 
 * Had k decent honors paid ? 
 
 4 When he saw the summons come,, 
 Did he think on us and home ? 
 In his illness did he find 
 * Strangers pitiful and kind ? 
 
 * Did the cause he serv d obtain 
 
 Mitigation of his pain ? 
 
 Will his grateful country show 
 Due respect for all our woe ? 
 
 Bind our broken hearts and cheer 
 
 Our sad spirits with a tear ?" 
 Yes, his grateful country knows 
 All his ivorth, and all your 
 
EXECUTION 
 
 :.IC.\RD SMITH, in Philadelphia, for the iv.ur 
 uVr oi Cupt JOHN CARSON - AagttSt 10, ISJ 
 
 < Tho." Justice be ihj plea> 
 Consider this: that in the course ofjttsttce, 
 None of us should see salvation. 
 
 We do pray for m. ? ?*e./ 
 And that same prav r doth tesch us all 
 To render the deeds of mercy. 
 
 L 
 
 THE dreadful tragedy is 
 
 The fatal die is cast ! 
 Pardon to guilt has barr d the door, 
 
 And Mercy stands aghast ! 
 
 II, 
 Mercy the child of heav nly love 
 
 Whence oceans freely flo<v, 
 Blest theme of seraph-tongues above, 
 
 And angel tongues below 
 
 III. 
 Mercy the oifty hope of man, 
 
 The rainbow of his fears; 
 That smiles away, since floods began, 
 
 The dnluge of his tears - 
 
 IV 
 Mercy ihou soul reviving pow r! 
 
 When SMITH implor d thy grace, 
 
48 POEMS. 
 
 In that tremendous awful hour, 
 Why turn away thy face ? 
 
 V, 
 Has Justice so vindictive grown, 
 
 That Mercy cannot spare ? 
 Can naught but blood for blood atone r 
 Can death, with death, repair r 
 
 VI. 
 Mix thinks T hear that cherub voice, 
 
 Responding to my lay 
 Pity and pardon were my choice, 
 But vengeance filPd the way. 
 
 VII. 
 Foul was the crime of deepest die 
 
 Abhorrd by all that live; 
 Still my prerogative and cry, 
 Is always to forgive. 
 
 VIII. 
 If deep coniritton mark the soul, 
 
 No matter what the crime, 
 Tho laro-e as space from pole to pole, 
 And multiplied as time 
 
 IX. 
 My arms the penitent embrace. 
 
 But cannot always save, 
 Unless when justice lakes my place, 
 I step beyond the grave ; 
 
POEMS, 
 
 X 
 
 still rc.y sympathies infold., 
 T. iere Justice "laims no more ; 
 There bliss unceasing, joys untold, 
 Around the victim pour: 
 
 XI. 
 For there an ADVOCATE is found, 
 
 Who once himself was slain ; 
 The flood that issued from his wound, 
 Can wash away the stain. 
 
 XII. 
 He knows what human passions are 
 
 Iti love how fierce they rage 
 Pities the orphan s lost despair 
 His tenderness of age : 
 
 O 
 
 XIII 
 
 And tho the horrid act he hates, 
 
 Forgiveness can bestow, 
 A ul bid heav n ? s everlasting gates 
 
 Call home repentant woe. 
 
 Oil the MASSACRE of the AMERICAN PRISONERS, at 
 
 Dartmoor Prisun, England, 1816. 
 HOW burns the biood within our veins, 
 
 To hear the tragic tale ; 
 The crime which Dartmoor Prison stains, 
 Would turn a demon pale ! 
 E 2 
 
50 POEMS. 
 
 Infuriate see your passions rise, 
 While you recite the deed ; 
 
 And vengeance flashes from your eyeq, 
 At evYy word you read. 
 
 ? Tis manly, patriotic, just, 
 And cherish well the flame, 
 
 Till mingling with your mother dust, 
 Remember SJwrtland s name. 
 
 Inscribe it on the blacken d scroll 
 
 Of infamy and guilt; 
 And with infernal acts enrol 
 
 The deeds the blood he spilt, 
 
 Cold hearted rnurd rer! see him stand; 
 
 And hear him give the word! 
 Swift dart the balls, at his command* 
 
 And thrusts the fulgent sword ! 
 
 Unarnvd and helpless, see them fall, 
 
 Americans are these I 
 Slain while they yet for quarters call, 
 
 And murdered on their knees. 
 
 Detested coward ! is it thus 
 You conquer highborn foes ? 
 
 The only vict ry gain d o er us, 
 As well your nation knows. 
 
POEMS. 31 
 
 And Ions: may British valor boast 
 
 One trophy of the war; 
 Let Shortland s triumph be your toast, 
 
 And spread your glory far. 
 
 But while you revel with delight, 
 
 O er bloody scenes k ke these, 
 Know that a GOD beholds the sight, 
 
 And dread his just decrees. 
 
 Know that Americans are brave, 
 
 "W hen vengeance cries pursue; 
 No foe can meet them on the wave, 
 
 No pow rem earth subdue \ 
 
 If man to man, and gun to gun, 
 
 And ship to ship they close, 
 The battle instantly is won, 
 
 And"owrs" the vanquish d foes. 
 
 So, should another war commence, 
 
 T avenge our country r s wrongs, 
 While unaton d this foul offence, 
 
 To freemen it belongs, 
 
 Just retribution to bestow 
 
 Upon these savage slaves* 
 To let their royal masters know 
 
 Columbia " rules the icavesf 9 
 
53 POTSMS. 
 
 FALSE ESTIMATE OF THE WORL& 
 WHEN titles, wealth, and pow r combine 
 
 1 o raise the man unjust, 
 Fools almost worship, as divine, 
 
 This reptile oi the dust. 
 
 To him mean adulation pays 
 
 The tribute of her breath ; 
 ^ av gives her very murderer praise, 
 
 While in the pangs of death. 
 
 around his board, like flies> 
 To lick th entangling sweet; 
 While ivant in supplication lies, 
 A worm beneath his feet. 
 
 Talk of idolatry who will, 
 
 ? Tis ev ry where the same ; 
 E en CHRISTIANS have their idol still, 
 
 And MONEY is the name. 
 
 E en PRIESTS obey its sovereign " call"-* 
 
 The good of souls at heart ; 
 And as their wages rise or fall, 
 
 Can tarry, or depart. 
 
 If lean the fiock, and short the fleece*,. 
 
 Their duty calls * awcnf; 
 Not all the eloquence of Greece, 
 
 Could flatter them to stay* 
 
POEMS. $3 
 
 The ma^ic of a single word, 
 
 Can give another fold, 
 These holy servants of the Lord 
 
 A larger lump of gold. 
 
 The glitt ring of a title shows 
 
 The man in wisdom big; 
 Like a bright ring within the nose 
 
 Of xvizzard a well-JearVd pig. 
 
 All stuff disgusting empty trash 
 
 No solid worth appears 
 Attendant on the man of CASH f 
 
 A jackass all but ears. 
 
 And yet the only passport. thiSa 
 
 To honor, povv r and fame ; 
 The sum of sublunary bliss, 
 
 Is man s eternal shame. 
 
 "VVrapp d in course rags, see genius He, 
 
 Extinguish d and forgot ; 
 AVhich blazM a meteor through the sky, 
 
 But perish M where it shot! 
 
 "With loads of poverty worn down, 
 
 The man of merit stands; 
 Oft the derision of a clowi, 
 
 And fetterd by his hands, 
 
JT4 FORMS, 
 
 But there s a retribution day, 
 When man shall have h;s right 1 , 
 
 When deeds of dark ness and dismay. 
 Shall all be brought to light. 
 
 With patience wait GOD s own due time> 
 
 For come it will, at last, 
 When Virtue s recompencc sublime, 
 
 Is HEAVEN for HELL that s -past. 
 
 e( Virtue and Vice, Liberty awl Oppression, are be 
 loved and detested, by the good and bad, of all 
 countries and nations." 
 
 THERE is a tie in kindred souls, 
 
 Which nothing can dissever; 
 And though as -distant as the poles, 
 
 Attractions feel forever ; 
 As the same sun illumes and warms, 
 So the same spirit lights and channs. 
 
 Conning the leaves of hisl ry o er, 
 How the heart thrills with pleasure, 
 
 To find the man, who lives no more, 
 (Our bosom s dearest treasure) 
 
 lave; ir-ovos converses Fare to face, 
 
 lake ghosts in some enchanted place. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Virtus is cv ry whjre alike, 
 
 BelovM ia evVy nation, 
 W.iile Vic? ne er fails the mind to strike 
 
 With horrid detestation ; 
 
 Thong!;, with inisn jxicr, various t rnes, 
 "Vices are vii v "$ virtues, crimes. 
 
 These two great ending; chiefs are found, 
 
 Sim lur in siz^ and stature, 
 Known, bwt unchang d, the world around 
 
 Invincible by nature ; 
 Eternal warfare is their <rarne 
 
 O 
 
 Eternal vict ry man their aim. 
 
 One seeks nsobj-ct to destroy 
 
 By captivating splendor, 
 A ul calls up pmv rs in his employ, 
 
 Worse than the witch ol Eudor ; 
 The other uses ev ry art 
 To vanquish but to save the heacfc 
 
 Enlisted on the side of. Vice, 
 
 Are slavery and oppression ; 
 Kings, with a heart as cold as ice, 
 
 Join in the black procession $ 
 Their motto prisons, death and pains 
 Their music gruan*; their weapons chains 
 
 But Virtue numbers in her train, 
 The world s great benefactors, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Who always have and will maintain 
 
 The name of noble actors 
 Heroes in freedom s glorious cause 
 Of equal rights, and rightful laws. 
 
 Grecian and Roman, Eng ish, French, 
 
 Philosophers and heroes, 
 Have grac d the field, the bar, the bench, 
 
 (Though all have had their Neroes) 
 Perish d in liberty s defence, 
 Or bled for injurd innocence. 
 
 Americans have caught the flame, 
 
 O may it burn eternal ! 
 A &un to lig -t their path of fame, 
 
 Through groves forever vernal, 
 "Where freedom s sacred tempi* stands^ 
 
 Built by immortal patr.ots nuuds. 
 
 Though fiends of tyranny essay 
 
 This t-niple to den-ol.s! ; 
 To drive its worshippers away, 
 
 Its rivals abnlis i ; 
 As Satan once like lightning fell, 
 "J is ..- oof against the gates of hell. 
 
 -Beli.,ion, Virtue, Freedom, Truth, 
 
 The sanii- in ov rv nation; 
 Their heritage unfading v(.tith, 
 Their residence creation 5* 
 
POEMS . sr 
 
 And when the last great day shall come, 
 Eternity their joyful home. 
 
 To my young niece, Miss SERENE F - who sent 
 me a watch-piece, on which was painted an ele 
 gant basket of fruit, bestrewed with beautiful 
 Sowers; around it were these lines: 
 
 " This basket I fill, and present it to you, 
 For whom my affection is ardent and true." 
 
 THE fruit which in your basket came, 
 
 Though artificial, dear ; 
 In taste, in. fragrance, and in name, 
 
 The sweetest of the year. 
 
 With feelings grateful, tender, warm, 
 
 Your off ring was receiv d ; 
 Which to my heart convey d a charm~- 
 
 A cordial that reliev d 
 
 A heart which oft hath bled to see, 
 
 And feel, what no one knows, 
 But him, dear girl, who gives to tkee, 
 
 A respite of his woes. 
 
 The voice of friendship t what more sweet ? 
 
 The coldest blood it thrills i 
 Winds round despairs forlorn retreat* 
 Beset with human ills - 
 
 F 
 
-8 POE-AiS. 
 
 Wooing the wandVer to return* 
 
 And taste of bliss awhile; 
 Joy in his breast begins to burn 
 
 It lightens in a smile! 
 
 " But ah! dear lovely maid, beware, 
 
 As you advance in years; 
 False friendship .is a deadly snare 
 A crocodile in tears ! 
 
 For under that suspicious name, 
 
 And in her garb is found, 
 Death to the fair one s spotless fame 
 
 A more than mortal wound ! 
 
 And while you paint these fruits and fiow rs, 
 
 As nature is pourtray d, 
 Never forget those coming hours, 
 
 When all on earth must fade. 
 
 E en that fair hand thy pencil guides, 
 
 Must wither and decay ; 
 E en that warm he? rt, where heav n reside^ 
 
 Must be as cold as clay. 
 
 ?>Iay all your life be like your name 
 
 SERENE, and calm, and clear; 
 And may your death belike the same*r~ 
 
 But far rcmov d the year, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 To rte. Jlfizartf of Brig. G-y.i. ZEBULON MOXTGO- 
 
 .--: PIKE, 
 York, U. QJprtlZT, 1SIO. 
 
 IF ever angels, from the blissful skies, 
 Look down on mortals with benignant eyes, 
 * I is when the brave repose in heav n their tru=t, 
 Whose cause is righteous, and whose views are just; 
 ? Tis on the hero, who, when duty calls, 
 O er death triumphant, nobly fights and falls; 
 If ever grief intrudes on heav nly bliss, 
 : Xis when such scenes occur a sight like this; 
 A scene which caus d our sorrowing hearts to swell, 
 "When Pike so recently in battle fell. 
 
 Lov d by ail ranks, rcverM wherever known, 
 His name a terror to hi?/es alone : 
 In whom the virtues all were seen to blend, 
 In war an enemy, in peace a friend ; 
 Offspring of honor, valor s fav rite chile, 
 Calm, but determined spirited, but mild ; 
 Stern, though not haughty ; affable, tlio grave ; 
 Politely resolute, humanely brave ; 
 In discipline not cruelly severe; 
 His soldiers lov d him with a fiUal fear; 
 Prompt to their needs of what to each belong?, 
 Just to their rights attentive to their wrongs: 
 He knew the spirit of the man to save 
 Td land the soldier, not to drive the sl 
 
 
60 POEMS. 
 
 T infuse that valor, which himself possessed, 
 Through all his ranksin ev ry private s breast. 
 
 In early youth his country s arms he bore, 
 "When the drear western wilds he traversed o er 5 
 In early youth he caught the patriot s fiame, 
 And planted laurels in the field of farae ; 
 The growth luxuriant, subsequently spread, 
 And tvvin d, as if by instinct, round his head; 
 Though now in death the warrior s corse lies low, 
 On his moist grave perpetual wreaths shall grow > 
 Year after year reflourish and be seen 
 To wear a livelier hue, a brighter green. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE. 
 AN ODE -1816. 
 
 I 
 
 TWICE twenty years have roll d aw.iy... 
 Since on this memorable day, 
 
 Was INDEPENDENCE born 5- 
 The child of heav n of earth the joy, 
 Whom no base Herod could destroy, 
 Though feeble and forlorn. 
 
 II. 
 Its strength hath increased with its years, till behold, 
 
 A giant-Collossus it stands; 
 A st itiK* like those which were worshipp d of old; 
 When gods were thfc. v/ork of men s hands ; 
 
POEMS; or- 
 
 A statue, though spirit and life it con tains 
 
 Breathes, speaks in a language well 
 " From all other nations, to you it belongs 
 To cherish my blessings alone : ? 
 
 III. 
 " To you, Americans, I give 
 
 Man s equal rights to share ; 
 And be those rights, or die, or live, 
 Your ever constant care J 
 
 IV. 
 Our heroes lamented, 
 
 Rave purchased the prize, 
 Their blood hath cemented, 
 Their genius invented 
 With offerings sweet scented, 
 The fane where it lies.. 
 
 V. 
 lighted by a flame of glory, 
 
 Is the temple on its walls 
 Sculptured are those deeds in story, 
 Which renown immortal calls. 
 
 YI. 
 
 And when Britania lately sought, again 
 To bind cur nation, with a tenfold chain 
 With all the pow rs of Europe on her side, 
 Teher indebted, and with her allied 
 While native savages internal foes, 
 With murder, treason, and rebellion rose 
 * 2 
 
ti POEMS. 
 
 Thy name, O INDEPENDENCE! like a charm, 
 Call d from black heav ns the meteor of alarm, 
 Which shot like lightning, thro each dauntless soul! 
 And broke, like thunder, with tremendous roll I 
 The bolts of vengeance on our foes were hurl d, 
 And peace, and Independence, bless d the world! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Such is the magic of thy name, 
 And such the wonders of thy fame; 
 Long may thy ofl spring calmly rest 
 Securely on Columbia s breast; 
 That breast which glows with noble pride, 
 To r.o legitimates allied, 
 Save GOD and nature- these it owns, 
 Above all potentates and thrones; 
 From these the people, lev ry hour, 
 Derive and exercise their pow r ; 
 To these amenable for all 
 Masters to whom they stand or fall. 
 "With such immortal povv rs allied, 
 With GOD and Nature on our side, 
 The glorious ./Era let us hail, 
 "Which gave to man, so weak, so frail, 
 A boon so precious from the sky, 
 As Independence FOURTH JULY. 
 
 VIII, 
 
 May all other nations, in time, too, rejoice 
 To have, for their rulers, the men of their choice 
 
POEMS. 63 
 
 The king of all kings, but no other obfj, 
 And blest Independence the Universe sway, 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 FAITH is the substance of our hopes, 
 
 Unseen by mortal eyes ; 
 FAITH is the key of pray V, that opes 
 
 The treasures of the skies. 
 
 FAITH is the dawn of heav nly light, 
 That cheers the doubting soul, 
 
 And drives away those clouds of night 
 That round her vision roll. 
 
 FAITH is the rising of the morn 
 
 The sun s full -beaming rays, 
 "When the blest convert, newly born, 
 
 Pours forth his heart in praise. 
 
 FAITH is the word of wisdom s choice, 
 Which bids all murmVings cease ; 
 
 A holy, heavenly still small voice, 
 That whispers love and peace, 
 
 FAITH is that power which Death disarms- 
 
 That takes away his sting 
 Quells the pale tyrant s dread alarms, 
 
 And slays the terror-king. 
 
64- * POEMS. 
 
 FAITH heaves the mountain* from its base; 
 
 And hurls it in the sea ; 
 FAITH is the heaven of God s free grace, 
 
 Prepar d, O man, for thee* 
 
 Rejoice rvith them that do rejoice, and weep raith 
 them that weep ROM. 12, 15. 
 
 WHEN holy fervor thrills the soul, 
 
 And sympathy divine, 
 Bids tears of joy profusely roll, 
 
 Around devotion s shrine 
 
 \Vhen deep repentance melts the heart. 
 
 And gushing sorrows flow, 
 To quench conviction s fiery dart, 
 
 Which gave the wounding blow ; 
 
 When joy supernal soars aloft, 
 
 On faith s unspotted wing, 
 And breathing raptures pure and soft,, 
 
 la songs that angels sing; 
 
 Or when adversity appears 
 
 With all ht-r frightful train- 
 Death and disease, and groans aid tears. 
 
 And poverty, sod pain ; 
 
 * SiB, 
 
POEMS. C3 
 
 Jaear, hear this sweet angelic voice, 
 And lull those fears to sleep 
 
 * Rejoice with them that do rejoice, 
 And weep with them that 
 
 And when to Heaven s all glorious day 
 The pure in heart fhall rise,, 
 
 Arid ev ry tear is wip d away 
 From ev ry mortal s eyes ; 
 
 Eternal happiness to reap, 
 Wtfl be your only choice ; 
 
 Fw I hen, O there you cannot weep, 
 But evermore rejoice. 
 
 THE NEWS-BOY S 
 
 ^tw -Tear s .Address to liis Patrons, 1817* 
 A NO HER year has roll d away 
 Another happy New-Year s" day 
 Has come, like me, with smiling fr.ce, 
 Full of hilarity and grace, 
 BotS asking, as the ca<e demands, 
 A tribute from your hearts ami hahds. 
 
 Long have I toil d your thoughts t amuse 
 "\\ \t\i pleasing ;.nd unpl&tsiitg news 
 By turns have brought you from afar, 
 The tidings of both peace and 
 
Deaths, suicides and horrid crimes, 
 Which stain the annals of our times. 
 Commingled in the very page 
 Yv here Virtue joy of evVy age, 
 And pure Religion, undefil d, 
 Calm, holy, dignified, and mild, 
 Are seen to flourish, triumph, spread 
 Around the living /rom the dead. 
 
 Oft have I brought, your eyes to bless, 
 This paper, reeking from the press. 
 Teeming with wonder-raising things, 
 Done by great potentates and kings 
 Their proclamations and decrees 
 The words, fools think, of deities 
 Their prostitution marriage tics, 
 Between legitimate allies ; 
 Where a few drops of royal blood, - 
 United .form a mighty flood, 
 Sweeping before it, as it flows, 
 The rights and liberties of those 
 Unlucky mortals, held in scorn, 
 Who happen to be " basely born" 
 As if the God of nature made 
 His ima;e for the sake of trade 
 
 O 
 
 On purpose to be bought and sold 
 Barter d for crowns -enslav d for gold I 
 
 Here, too, you frequently have found, 
 And tasted fruit from classic ground-* 
 
-TuEMS. 
 
 "lVith CAMPBELL scal d Parnassus mount, 
 Or drank the Heliconian fount 
 With Byron, and with Walter Scott, 
 (What reader would not turn a-sotr) 
 Have snatch d a mental sweet repast 
 Short, for too exquisite to last 
 Returning to our native plains, 
 Heard QSBORN S sweetly flowing strains 
 But PHILLIPS vv iy forget his name, 
 Whose genius breaks in sheets of flame, 
 Like lightning darts from east to west, 
 Melts all the heart but leares it blest- 
 Leads up the soul where virtue reigns, 
 And leaves it happy- though in chains. 
 With scraps alternately from these, 
 We, p: inters, strive! instruct and please; 
 And must our labors all be lost? 
 Nipp d by a hard untimely frost ? 
 " No" genYous patrons ! " no" you cry. 
 And no, our grateful hearts reply. 
 
 Here, aJso : ev ry reader learns 
 Our state and national concerns ; 
 How legislators - reader pause 
 Have loaded us with Salary laws 
 The greatest gluttons of the day, 
 Have revell d on the soidiiv s pay, 
 Tillgorg d and surfeited witu wine, 
 , Their seats of honor they resign ; 
 
68 -POEMS. 
 
 But justify the measure still, 
 Though known to thwart the people s will. 
 O shame ! where is tl-y blushing face, 
 Hid in a cloud of black disgrace ! 
 -O liberty! where is thy flight 
 Gone with the phantoms of the night! 
 They vainly think the wound to heal 
 By application of Repeal 
 Twill leave a smart, severer far 
 Leave its remembrance, in a scar. 
 Yet, thanks to Heav n, there s some remain. 
 Whose garments ne er have known a stain^ 
 Just as Jlristides, and true 
 As fam d Las Cossas of Peru ; 
 Though here to name them would prolong 
 The stated limits of my song ; 
 To them we look, to them we pray, 
 " /Save save our country while you may. 
 
 Now as the year has just begun 
 Again its ann al race to run ; 
 As Time s rapidity of flight J 
 Equall d alone by that of light, 
 Fast leads us on from stage to stage 
 From youth to manhood up to age 
 As thus we journey on the way, 
 Remember all have FARE to pay - 
 That ev ry mortal wants his due 
 (ThePriwfer and the Post-Boy too) 
 
POEMS. 
 
 That when we,.:eai:i the common goal. 
 And heav n is opening on the soul, 
 For fear its golden gates may close, 
 And dark interminable woes 
 Should be our hopeless awful fate ; 
 Hence let our reformation date, 
 Begin the year our lives anew, 
 Keeping eternity in view, 
 That when death comes, terrific King, 
 " Appear before tky GOD," to bring, 
 We may with joyful ness obey 
 The ready mandate, while Tins DAT., 
 Sweet to the memory hope inspirjn, 
 That quenches everlasting fires ; 
 A cordial proves your souls to -cheer, 
 A glorious t/fli/^an endless year. 
 
 A VOYAGE. 
 
 INVOCATION TO NEPTUSB. 
 
 Written on board the Frigate Philadelphia, 1803, 
 NEPTUNE, attend, god of the vast profound ! 
 Whose will controls it, and whose powVs surround I 
 When lightnings flash, tremendous thunders roar, 
 And liquid mountains tumble to the shore, 
 Thy awful mandate, sounding from afar, 
 Cat hash the die of elemental war ; 
 
 a 
 
7=0 POEMS. 
 
 The restless billows lull to slumb ring peace, 
 
 And bid the whirlwind and the tempest cease! 
 
 O make, in answer to our fervent pray r, 
 
 The Philadelphia thy peculiar care. 
 
 To winds propitious all our sails unfurlM, 
 
 Bearing the ensign or a glorious world ; 
 
 Should in our cruise some hostile Hag be seen, 
 
 The Moor, Tripoli tan, or Algerine 
 
 Should biood Stain d Mars his hideous front display, 
 
 And menace carnage to obstruct our way 
 
 As stern Ulysses, as Achilles bold, 
 
 Or warlike Hecior, in the days of old, 
 
 The martial lookup Bainbridge shall inspire 
 
 The dauntless ardor of heroic fire ; 
 
 His sword shall triumph in the vengeful blow, 
 
 And deal destruction to the recreant foe. 
 
 So taught the muse prophetic but the song 
 
 Prov d in the sequel, the prediction wrong. 
 
 .EXERCISING SHIP. 
 
 Written at Sea~~U.&. Frigate Philadelphia. 180S. 
 NOW for the rock our warlike frigate bore, 
 Nor storms were felt to beat, nor he*rd to roar 
 " Clear ship for action !" sounds the boatswain s 
 
 call 
 " Clear ship for action !" his three mimicks bawJ ; 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Swift round the deck*, see wars dread weapons 
 
 hun d, 
 
 And floating ruins strew the wat*ry world ! 
 " All hands to quarters!" fore and aft resound.-; , 
 Thrills iro:n the fife, aud from the drum -head 
 
 bounds; 
 
 From crowded hatchways scores on scores arise, 
 Spring up the shrouds and vault into the skies I 
 Firm at Uis quarters each bald gunner stand. ?, 
 .Toe death -fraught lightning Hashing from his hands ! 
 Touch d at the word, tremendous cannons roar, 
 The waves rush, trembling, to the viewless shore! 
 Fro n crackling muskets whizzing balls are sent, 
 A 5 I, darting, pierce the liquid element! 
 Th i fearful nations of the deep below, 
 F; y the dire signals of impending \\ r oe ; 
 Air"s wild inhabitants in clouds convene, 
 And wing impetuous from the frightful scene ; 
 Men seek the spoils of the eventful fight, 
 Lo i not an enetnv nor a sal! in sight ! 
 
 J O 
 
 What then? must poets ne er record a deed, 
 
 Nor sing of battles, but when thousands bleed ? 
 
 Can naught but blood and carnage yield delight ? 
 
 Or mingled* carcases regale the si^ht ? 
 
 W itc i shews more jjod-liki 1 , men to save or kill ? 
 
 Th^ir sivcat, by exercise, or blood to spill ? 
 
 W l ich - MI U .nore grateful to the man humane, 
 
 Tt> hear of hundreds health, or hundretU slain-? 
 
7 POEMS. 
 
 No blood here iTbws, no hero s (tyin 
 No squadrons vanquish d, and no broken boaes. 
 But each more eager to the grog-tub ran, 
 Than when the foeless contest first began. 
 
 Still on our course, the Western-Isles we past, 
 And farn d Gibraltar heaves in si^ht, at last ; 
 Close in we stood, at our commander s word, 
 The harbor enter d, and the frigate moor d. 
 Vievv d from the ship, what prospects here arise ! 
 The rock s bold summit tow ring to the skies, 
 RoiL d in eternal clouds, through time has stood, 
 Nods, threats and frowns terrific on the flood ! 
 To guard the fortress, and the port command. 
 Hound its wall d base repulsive battVies stand, 
 Rows above rows, huge cannon wide extend, 
 And groves of muskets glitt ring terrors blend ! 
 But flow ry gardens soon relieve the sight, 
 And, side by side, lie horror and delight. 
 
 THE LOAF. 
 
 Written in TRIPOLI, 1804. 
 THE best of all friends is the friend in distress. 
 
 And more the rich morsel I prize, 
 Imparted when hunger and poverty press,. 
 
 Than thousand?, did fortune 
 
POEMS. 
 
 "With gratitude, friend, to the parent above, 
 And tiianks to yourself not a few, 
 
 I took the sweet loaf as a token of love, 
 And ate in remembrance of you, 
 
 To life-wasting hunger, to heart-piercing cold, 
 
 To scourges of tyrants a prey ; 
 Midst demons of slavery, too fierce to be told, 
 
 And comrades more brutish than they, 
 
 The least of my wants not a soul has reliev d, 
 
 Nor friendship emitted a beam ; 
 From you the first crust of regard I receiv d 
 
 From you the first crumb of esteem. 
 
 Then take the fond lay as the yeast of return, 
 
 For, while I thus indigent live, 
 Though my breast, like an oven, with gratitude hu 
 
 Tis all I am able to give. 
 
 " John HilUard died in the evening" -says Dr. 
 Cowdry. 
 
 The" Doctor is as laconic iii mentioning the death 
 of our seamen, as he was remiss in attending to 
 them. The company of a " prince, 1 in a flower- 
 garden, was much more pleasing lo the Doctor, 
 than the company of a languishing sailor, in a drea 
 ry cell. The gratification of his vanity was obvi 
 ously anterior to the offices ot humanity. Me fre 
 quently informs us of his prescriptions for ttie Ba- 
 G 2 
 
74 POEMS. 
 
 s!aw and his family, but seldom mentions the sick 
 ness or suilVrings of his own countrymen. Bil 
 liard ditd of a tiux, which might have been greatly 
 mitigated, if not cured, had he received proper 
 medical attention. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 On the death of JOHN BILLIARD, ff ho died Jan. 3d f 
 1804, in the prison of Tripoli. 
 
 [Published in the Port Fulio 3 
 IIILLI VRD, of painful life bereft 
 
 Is now a slave no more ; 
 But here no relative is left, 
 His exit to deplore ! 
 
 No parent, no fond brother, stands 
 
 Around his clay-cold bed ; 
 No \vife, with tender, trembling hands. 
 
 Supports his dying head. 
 
 No sister follows or attends 
 
 His melancholy bier; 
 Nor from a lovers eye descends 
 
 The soft distilling tear ; 
 
 But foes, and of a barb rous kind. 
 
 Surround him as he dies ; 
 A horror to his fainting mind. 
 
 And to his closing eye*. 
 
POEMS. rs 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 On the death ofLifiitei-ant JAMES DECATUR, ?r ? .-a 
 fell August Sd, 1804, in an action u i z7i I m i rt- 
 politan gun-boats. 
 
 THROUGH these drear walls, where fiends horri 
 fic reign, 
 
 Chill the faint heart and rend the frantic brain! 
 Where, void of friends, of pleasure, food or rest. 
 The vulture slavery preys upon the breast; 
 From yon thick squadron, whence we iiope to hear 
 The voice of freedom charm the captive s ear, 
 Sounds the sad tale. DECATUR S name deplore, 
 For that young hopeful hero breathes no more ! 
 He left, to free us from barbarian chains, 
 His country s bloom ing groves and peaceful plains; 
 Forever sacred be those arms he wore, 
 The cause that mov d him, and the barque that bore; 
 Twas heavVs own cause twas freedom s injur d 
 
 name, 
 
 The love of country and the voice of fame 
 Call d forth his active martial skill, to go 
 Scour the wide deep and scourge the tyrant foe : 
 Dauntless he fights, where dying groans resound 
 And thund ring carnage roars tremendous round 
 ? Till heav n beheld him with propitious eyes, 
 And snatcVd his kindred spirit to the skies. 
 
 When from the Turks his mangled form they bore* 
 With glory cover d, balh d in streaming gore, 
 
f& POEMS. 
 
 Bewailing friends his ghastly wounds surveyed, 
 "Which bid defiance to all human aid, 
 When life stoud trembling, ling ringin its flight, 
 And heav n s blest visions dawnM upon his sight ; 
 The radiant shades of heroes hov ring round, 
 Midst harps of angels, with reviving sound, 
 Sooth <! the last pangs of his undaunted breast, 
 And wing d him, convoy d,to eternal rest. 
 Could worth have rescu d, or could virtue save 
 Her heav n-born vot ries from the destin d grave; 
 Could sacred friendship s hallow d pray rs bestow 
 The gift of immortality below ; 
 Could thousand s sighs and tears, that ceaseless roll. 
 Call from the shores of bliss th angelic soul : 
 (Though the bold wish be impious deem d and vain) 
 Death ne er had reach d him, or he d live again. 
 But fate s decrees, irrevocably just, 
 Doom d his ft ail body to the mingling dust; 
 In yon cold deep it finds unwak d repose, 
 Far from th embrace of friends or reach of foes ; 
 Till the last trumpet s loud eternal roar 
 Call forth its millions from the sea and shore- 
 Nor till the final blast and awful day, 
 Shall that brave soul re-aninate its clay. 
 
POEMS. & 
 
 LINES ADDRESSED TO GEN 7 . E.VTON, 
 
 0>z reading the Congressional debate respecting his 
 Golden Medal. Written on board the U. States 
 frigate Essex, 1805. 
 
 A.ND was it then a subject of debate, 
 With those wise Sotons, in the house of state, 
 Whether should Derm s conqueror staad or fall, 
 Or matchless bravery meet reward at all ? 
 "Whether should EATON, unexampled brave, 
 Who fought to rescue, and who bled to save 
 Three hundred captive souls from chains and death* 
 Whose lives hung, trembling, on a murd rer s 
 
 breath, 
 
 Whether his name descend to future days, 
 On the bright Medal of a nation s praise ? 
 Or, should his trophies be by all forgot, 
 Mis with, the rubbish of the times, and rot? 
 
 " Small was his force, half naked were his foes, 
 " And though so numerous, easy to oppose." 
 Thus argued Randolph ; Clay the same avows, 
 And fain would piuck the laurel from his brows 
 The sword of victYy from hi- hand would wrest, 
 And tear the bad^e of valor from his breast ; 
 Bat, thank them not, though justice still is found, 
 And grateful honors wreath his temples round. 
 
 And was it nought those burning sands t explore. 
 Where feet of Christians never trod before? 
 
78- POEMS* 
 
 Where freedom s banners ne er hatl been unfufW, 
 Since the bold Romans ilourish d o er the world ? 
 "Midst fierce Barbarians, whom no- laws can bind, 
 "Wild as the waves, and treacherous as the v, intl, 
 To rear that standard and so long defend, 
 "With less than twelve, on whom he might depend 
 To storm a citadel of tenfold might, 
 And hold that fortress, till the flag of white 
 Woo d him to yield it. on the terms of peace 
 Who gave his captive countrymen release? 
 For EATON S boldness first appall d the foe, 
 Who, forc d like Pharaoh, let the people go. 
 
 When the blest shade of WASHINGTON-, above, 
 Saw the bold chief through Lvbian deserts move, 
 The sword of vengeance waving in the sky, 
 Resolv d to free his brethren, or to die, 
 Those patriot *lev*n, attending on his way, 
 His visage beam d a more celestial ray ; 
 To WARREN and MONTGOMERY shewM the siht ; 
 Then sunk in glory, and absorbed in light. 
 
 Oli! did he live! did Fernon s boast again 
 Shine in our fields or in our councils reign, 
 His voice from EATON never would withhold, 
 Altho with pearls enrich d, the burnish d gold.; 
 But by His hand would ardently be prest, 
 The conscious syoibol to his dauntless breast-. 
 
POEMS. -J0 
 
 Then let mean envy Randolph s spite betray, 
 An 1 dart thine arrows, impious hand of Clay! 
 1 i ;:aud of heuv r. for heav n rewards the brave, 
 Will bless thee, EATON, e en beyond the grave. 
 While gratitude shall warm Columbia s breast, 
 Thy name shall live, thy merits stand confest; 
 Thy deeds sh^all brighten on th* historic page, 
 Year after year, and age succeeding; age 
 Wreatlis of thy fatne,transferr d by bards 
 Shall bloom forever mid the wrecks of time. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF TRIPOLI. 
 
 IVriiten in 1803. 
 
 YE lurid domes! v/hosetoU ring columns stand, 
 Marks of the despot s desolating hand: 
 Whose weed -grown roofs and mould ring arches 
 
 show 
 
 The curse of tyranny, a nation s woe ; 
 In ev ry ruin ev rv pile I find 
 A \varning lesson to a thoughtful mind. 
 Your gloomy cells expressive silence break, 
 Echo to groans, and eloquently speak; 
 " The Christian Yblood cements the stones he rears; 
 " This clay was moisten d with a Christian s tears; 
 " Pale as these wails a pris ner oft has Iuin> 
 c Felt the keen scourge and worn the ruthless chain v 
 Ct While scoffing foes increasing tortures pour, 
 " Till tiie poor victim feels, alas ! no more P 
 
SO "POEMS. 
 
 Here thy brave tars, America, are found 
 Lock d in foul prisons and iu fetters bound. 
 Heav ns! what sad times ! must free Columbian 
 
 bow 
 
 Before yon tinsel tyrant s murky brw 1 
 Cringe to a pow r which death and rapine crown ? 
 Smile at a smile, and tremble at a frown ? 
 Kneel at a throne, its clemency implore, 
 Enrich d by spoils and stain d with human gore? 
 Bear the sharp lash, the pond rous load sustain, 
 Suppress their anger, and revenge restrain ? 
 Leave a free clime, explore the treach rous waves, 
 The sport of miscreants and the slave of slaves? 
 Heav ns ! at the sight each patriot bosom glows 
 With virtuous hatred on its country s foes ; 
 At ev ry blow indignant passions rise, 
 And vengeance flashes from resentful eyes. 
 Butheav n is just, though man s bt wilder d mind 
 To the dark ways of providence is blind ; 
 Else why are some ordain d above the rest, 
 Or villains treated better than the best ? 
 Why, martyr d virtue, hang thy injur d head ? 
 Why liv d an Arnold, while a Warren bled ? 
 Earth s murd rers triumph, proud oppressors reign. 
 While patriots bleed and captives si^h in vain? 
 Yet slumb ring justice soon shall wake and show 
 fler sword, unsheaJi d, and vengeance wing the. 
 
 blow: 
 
POEMS. 
 
 -Columbia s genius, glorious as the sun, 
 With thy blest shade, immortal Washington I 
 Unite to guard us from nefarious foes, 
 And heav n defend, and angels interpose, 
 Devoted tyrants cause just wrath to feel, 
 Make Beys and Bashaws i i submission kneel ; 
 Man s equai right, sweet liberty, restore, 
 And -despotism crush, to rise no more. 
 
 AVAR; 
 
 Oil A PROSPECT O* IT, 
 
 recent ins ancesof British outrag* 
 
 VOTARIES of freedom arm! 
 The British lion roars ! 
 
 Legions of valor, taketh alarm- 
 Rush, rush to guard our shores ! 
 
 Behold the horrid deed 
 
 Your brethren gasping lie; 
 Beneath a tyrant s hand they bleed - 
 
 Ihey groan they faint t..ey die. 
 
 Vet rans of seventy-six, 
 
 Awake the slumbering sword 1 
 
 Hearts of yottr murderous foes transnx- 
 Tis vengeance gives the wor<|, 
 
 H 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Remember Lexington, 
 
 And Bunker s tragic hill ; 
 The same who spilt your blood thereoa. 
 
 Your blood again would spill. 
 
 Ye who have seen your wives, 
 Y r our children, and your sires, 
 
 To British ruffians yield their lives, 
 And roast in savage fires; 
 
 Our cities lost in flames 
 Your mothers captive led 
 Rise and avenge their injur d names, 
 Ye kindred of the dead. 
 
 But not revenge alone, 
 
 Should urge you to the field ! 
 Let duty lead you firm ; y on, 
 
 And Justice be your shield. 
 
 Sure as we fail to join 
 
 And crush our impious foes, 
 War, fire and sword, and death combine* 
 
 And woes succeed to woes. 
 
 Behold, with blushes red, 
 
 The sea like blood appears; 
 Our streams are bridged with fancied dead. 
 
 And britu d with ophan s tears; 
 
POEMS, 
 
 flat Union can perform 
 The wonders of a host 
 
 Avert the danger, quell the staim, 
 And drive them from our coast* 
 
 Unite, and side by side, 
 Meet victVy or your graves; 
 
 That moment we in War divide* 
 That moment we are slaves. 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF COMMODORE 
 PREBLE. 
 
 WHILE WAR, fierce monster, siuinM with guiltless 
 
 blood, 
 
 Roirs, threats, and rages round th* infuriate flood; 
 While hostile Britons murtl ring fleets employ 
 T infest our harbors and our ships destroy 
 Impress our tars in their inglorious cause, 
 In base defiance of ail nations la\vs ; 
 "When each bold vet-ran, in his country s name, . 
 Is callM to save her freedom and her fame; 
 "When few whose bravery and whose nauticskiU 
 Can duly execute her sovereign will ; 
 "What sighs of sorrow waft from shore to shore, 
 "With these sad tidings " J J rtl le is ho morel * 
 
84 POEMS. 
 
 Erst when mad Tripoli, in prowess vaiu, 
 With her rapacious corsairs block d the maic> 
 PourM round our ships in predatory swarms, 
 V/ith purple banners and audacious arms 
 Our neutral cargoes plunder d on the waves* 
 Aad made our free-born citizens her slaves ; 
 When our late frigate groan d upon the shoals,. 
 So deeply freighted with three hundred souls, 
 Who sigh d in durance till yon lamp of night 
 Full twenty changes had renew d its light, 
 *Twas Freble first that dauntless squadron led, 
 Where S jmers perish d, and Decatur bled ; 
 Where JVadsivorth, Jsrae/, met in death their fate, 
 With kindred martyrs full as brave and great ; 
 Twas Freble first those barb rous pirates show d- 
 JUSTICE was all the tribute that we ow d, 
 And prov d that when Columbia vengeance bears, 
 ? Tis nought but mercy that the victim spares. 
 
 Let British bards, in mercenary lays, 
 Chaunt forth elegiac strains to Nelson s praise; 
 Though oft victorious, and though madly brave, 
 He fought that tyranny might crush the slave; 
 He fought that tyrants o er the world might rule, 
 And died a mad-man, as he livM a fool. 
 
 "But Preble s cause e en heav n itself might own, 
 In, heav n tis cherislvd, and through earth tis 
 known J 
 
POEMS. 85 
 
 In heav n tis warbled from enraptured choirs, 
 It charms their numbers, and it tunes their l\ns 
 The cause of FREEDOM dear to him who knows 
 The adverse honors and the poignant woes 
 Of slavery, dungeons, hunger, stripes and chains, 
 With dismal prospects of augmented pains! 
 To free the captive, noble, gen rous deed, 
 Who would not swear to fight, or sigh to bleed ? 
 To free the captive, Preble wingM his aid, 
 And more firm valor never was display M. 
 When round our prison s solitary walls 
 Burst the dread meteor-bomb-shells shower d the 
 
 balls ! 
 
 Our hearts for liberty or death beat high, 
 And who for freedom would not wish to die ? 
 To him we look d, on him our hopes relied 
 The friend of seamen, and the seaman s pride ; 
 To him Wv? look d, and righteous heaven imploi cl 
 To speed the vengeance of his slaughtering sword? 
 Nor is he now, though vain his efforts prov d, 
 The less lamented or the less belov d ; 
 But each late captive, year succeeding year, 
 Will bless his mem ry, and his name revere. 
 
 Yes, gallant chief! though virtuous, just and 
 
 brave, 
 
 Thine is the lot of man the dreary grave ! 
 With heroes fainted, who have one before, 
 Like them we pri/Al thee, and like them deplore J 
 H2 
 
86 POEMS. 
 
 And though thine arm, of Barb ry once the dread, 
 Lies cold and withered midst the unconscious dead, 
 Unfading laurels at thy name shall bloom, 
 Spring from thy dust, and flourish round thy tomb? 
 
 Lamented chief! though death he calmly past, 
 Our Navy trembled when he brcath d his last! 
 Our Navy mourns him, but it mourns in vain, 
 A Preble ne er will live ne er die again ! 
 Yet hope desponding, at the thought revives, 
 A second Preble. a Decatur lives! 
 His worth, his merit, well are understood, 
 His hand is skilful and his heart is good ; 
 Bold shall he chase yon demons of the wave. 
 For all who know him know him to be brave. 
 
 To him Columbia casts her streaming eyes, 
 "Wipes their free torrent, and suspends her sighs, 
 September 7th t 1807. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 CASH. 
 
 WISE moralists in vain have told 
 How sordid is the love of gold, 
 
 Wiiicli they call filthy trash ; 
 Thou stranger to these eyes of mine. 
 Ten thousand virtues still are thiue,- 
 
 Thou all sufficient CASH ! 
 
 Though thy intrinsic worth is small, 
 Yet, MONEY, thou art all in all 
 
 Though transient as a flash, 
 In passing just from hand to hand, 
 The earth is at thy sole command 
 
 It gravitates to CASH. 
 
 Possess d of thee, we may defv, 
 Not death itself, but very nigh ; 
 
 For when the tyrant s lash 
 Is felt, and ah ! twas felt by me, 
 It did it will the vassal free 
 
 Then who despises CASH. 
 
 By nature void of evVy grace, 
 
 If thou hast, (reader! view thy face,) 
 
 But this cosmetic wash, 
 Twill whiten and improve the skin 
 Thy monkey nose thy cheeks, and chin, 
 
 Are beautified by CASH. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 And though your mental pow rs be weak, 
 To you who money have I speak, 
 
 Go on shave cut and slash; 
 For men of genius and of sense, 
 If poor, will make a pour defence, 
 
 Against the man of CASH. 
 
 Or should you, for the basest crimes, 
 Become indicted fifty times, 
 
 This settles all the harsh; 
 For bills which leave the poor no hope, 
 T escape the dungeon, or the rope, 
 
 Are cancell d, all, by CASH. 
 
 Nay, twill be found that Money can 
 The grov ling beast transform to Man, 
 
 Though ditf rent natures clash ; 
 For tis a fact beyond dispute, 
 The Miser s far beneath the brute 
 
 A lump of living CASH. 
 
 And yet what crowds around him wait- 
 Behold him cloth d in pow r and state 
 The garter, star and sash ; 
 Fools fly before the potent nod ; 
 Of him whose flesh, whose soul, whose god, 
 Whose heaven itself is CASH. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 But, sons ofpLUTUs! lest ye go 
 To those infernal mines below, 
 
 Where teeth are said to gnash 
 Give to the needy bribe the grave- 
 Oil, if you wish your souls to save, 
 
 Be gen rous of your CASH. 
 
 A POETICAL A DDRESS 
 
 From tJie Publishers of the ON T OMD\GA GAZETTE 
 
 to th eir readers 1 81 6. 
 TO give you timely information 
 Of things momentous to the nation, 
 Mixt with events of recent date, 
 Most interesting to the state ; 
 The patriotic flame to fan, 
 Which glows in ev ry virtuous man ; 
 And rouse to energy that spirit 
 "Which true Republicans inherit ; 
 Au-ment their zeal, their strength uuite, 
 To guard, with vigilance, each right 
 Against domestic machinations, 
 As well as foreign depredations; 
 And save, if in their powV to save, 
 What GOD and Nature to us gave 
 The richest blessings ever known 
 BrizM and enjoyM by us alone; 
 
#* POEMS. 
 
 For these, and other objects yet, 
 We print and publish this Gazette 
 Though paramount to all the rest 
 Are motives previously express d ; 
 Though we shall always set before 
 Tou wholesome food, if nothing more? 
 Yet shall it be our constant care 
 To give you palatable fare, 
 With now and then a dainty bit 
 Of highly seasoned native wit ; 
 Taking due caution, though, in punning, 
 That authors do not get too cunning; 
 For nothing injures printers more, 
 Than turning common sense out door, 
 And letting in, at ev ry rap, 
 The scribblings of some witty chap, 
 Written, perhaps, with mighty pains,. 
 Without the requisite of bruins. 
 
 Though interested warm collisions, 
 And wide political divisions 
 Unhappily exist, and will, 
 In spite of all the statesman s skill ; 
 Although we cannot smiling stand, 
 And take Sedition by the hand ; 
 Hold friendly concourse with those wights 
 Wh.i own t ic signal of Blue Lights; 
 Although we must and will oppose 
 we dean our country s foes) 
 
POEMS. Si 
 
 Men, who in peril s darkest day, 
 In ainb^is 1 !, like assassins, lay, 
 Ready t> seiz% with trait rous hand, 
 The reins which government command,, 
 Athl drive, with more than hellish hate, 
 To headlong crush the car of state, 
 Yet shall it be our steady aim, 
 To injure no man s private fame 5 
 But hold as sacred ev ry tet-ier 
 That binds society together. 
 
 Religion, pure and undt-fil d, 
 Of Heav n the ever darling child, 
 Whatever sect or name she bears, 
 Whatever hue or garb she wears, 
 If founded on the gospel plan 
 Of love to GOD and love to man, 
 Shall ne er be scoff d at, nor neglected. 
 But honor d cherish d, and respected. 
 Morality t her sister, too, 
 Shall meet with all attention due 
 Her precepts strictly be regarded, 
 Her merits handsomely rewarded, 
 By ev ry effort, means and way, 
 A public journal can display. 
 
 Retailers here may advertise 
 Their goods and wares, and merchandize 
 
*9i POEMS. 
 
 3Vith " Just receivM, and now for sale, 
 
 " By piece, or pattern, yard or nail, 
 
 " Fresh goods, of latest iniport.it ion, 
 
 " From evVy kingdom, port, and r.atieiN 
 
 " Brandy, tobacco, rum and -wine,- 
 
 ** Tea, sugar, broadcloths, superfine, 
 
 " Coffee, and pepper, and molasses 
 
 " Mugs, pitchers, teapots, looking glasses ~~ 
 
 ** Calicoes, muslins, ladies feathers, 
 
 " For them to fly with thro all weathers 5 
 
 " Shawls, flannels, ribbons, tapes and laces, 
 
 ** And veils, to cloud their pretty faces ; 
 
 " Horsewhips, for such as want them most 
 
 fft ( Andsuch as want them, what a host ! j 
 
 ei All which we paid for, in our notes, 
 
 " And offer, cheap, for corn and oats 
 
 " Wheat, rye, or barley, butter, cheese, 
 
 " Credit, or money, if you please, 
 
 w Though specie scarcer is, by far, 
 
 -" Than tories were in time of war. w 
 
 Lawyers and sheriffs, often trouhlish, 
 Fi. Fa.s and mortgages may publish, 
 And sell the debtor s goods and chattels, 
 For costs and int rest toys and rattles; 
 And when all other sources fail, 
 Pack off his body to a jail ; 
 Although they sometimes, paring thin, 
 Ihe carcase leave, but take the skin. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 "T escape from too much work, or Hogging, 
 hould your apprentices be jogging; 
 Should horses cattle, sheep, or swine, 
 Half starv d at home, walk out to dine* 
 (Meeting some unforseen disaster, 
 Never return to "serve their master;* ) 
 Here you may spread the news around, 
 And find them landed in a pound. 
 Or should your kind and loving spouse, 
 Desert your bed and board, and house; 
 (For nought on earth, as you can tell, 
 But being lov d by you top well) 
 Ramble and tattle, scold and fret, 
 And run you head and ears in debt; 
 Here you may all your reasons muster, 
 And warn the public not to trust her, 
 Who basely has your head cornuted, 
 On pain of being prosecuted. 
 Here, too, the woman may defend 
 Her Character from head to end, 
 And swear, by all that s jrr^dt and good, 
 No lady ever since t io flooJ, 
 Not even Bonaparfe s old queen, 
 Was so abusM as she has been ; 
 Whose very life was rendered risky, 
 Bv that nefarious son of wni.sk 
 Waiie neighbors prove to one another, 
 ^TThat one s as tmicii to bi;ur;e as t other, 
 I 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Should some sweet maid by chance get married, 
 The news can rapidly be carried 
 Through all the country far and wide, 
 (\n odd way to salute the bride) 
 A modc&t manner to make known 
 What modesty would blush to own ; 
 But wisely meant to keep the fair, 
 Though antiquated, from despair. 
 
 Should Bonaparte Old Nick subpoena, 
 And so escape from St Helena; 
 Re-enter subjugated France, 
 (For which there seems to be no chance) 
 And the Prince Regent so affright, 
 That he should bid the world good night; 
 The allied troops again attack, 
 And throw the Sovereigns on their back ; 
 Resume the sceptre and the crown, 
 And drum the Bourbons out of town ; 
 Should things as strange as this, or stranger, 
 Occur, (of which ve think no danger) 
 Should wealth and impudence divide, 
 Or ignorance, be divort d from pride; 
 Should perfect honesty be found 
 Except at six feet under ground 
 Disinterestedness u ppear, 
 In shape of any mortal here; 
 Should miracles like, these transpire, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Volcanoes burst, or um us take lire ; 
 
 Or should another conflagration 
 ; Destroy tae round-house of the nation; 
 
 Or a Connecticut Convention, 
 
 Again show treasonable intention: 
 
 Should Mr. Secretary DwigUt, 
 
 Puff out his Albany Blue Light ; 
 
 Oar paper never shall refuse 
 t To spread, ia time, such dreadful news 
 
 k 
 [_ W KITTEN IN TRIPOLI.] 
 
 Tune " Madam you know my trade is war FJ 
 COLUMBIA ! while the sons of fame 
 Thy freedom through the uorld proclaim, 
 And hell-born tyrants dread the name 
 
 That wills all nations free; 
 Renute, on Barb ry s pirate coast, 
 By foes enslav d, a miscreant host, 
 Ko more the rights of man we boast 
 
 Adieu, blest Libeity ! 
 
 llo.v fearful lour d the gloomy dav, 
 When, stranded on the shoals we lay 
 Expns d, our foremast cut away, 
 To the rou^h dashing sea ; 
 
OS POEMS. 
 
 When hostile gun-boats thundcr d round, 
 And no relief, nor hopes were found, 
 These mournful words swell d ev ry sound; 
 Adieu, blest Liberty 1 
 
 In helpless servitude, forlorn, 
 
 From country, friends, and freedom torn, 
 
 Alike \ve dread each night and morn, 
 
 For nought but grief we see ; 
 When burthens press the lash we bear, 
 And all around is black despair, 
 We breathe the silent, fervent pray V, 
 
 O come, blest Liberty ! 
 
 Mem ry, to viuVrv e er unkind, 
 Brings present, to the painful mind, 
 The woes oblivion, else, would find, 
 
 And evils cease to be ; 
 And fancy, when we re wrapp,d in bleep. 
 Conveys us o er the boundless deep; 
 But, wak d to sigh, we live to weep, 
 
 Adieu, blest Liberty ! 
 
 And when invading cannons roar, 
 
 And life, their blood, from hundreds pour, 
 
 And mangled bodies iloat ashore, 
 
 And ruins strew the sea ; 
 The thoughts of death, or freedom, 
 Create alternate hope and fear; 
 Oh! when will that blest day appear, 
 
 That brings sweet Liberty ! 
 
When rear d on yonder castle s height, 
 That now bare flagstaff s d rest in white* 
 "We gaze, enraptur d at the sight; 
 
 How happy shall we be! 
 "When thund ring guns proclaim a peace, 
 Dur toils all o er, our woes shall cease, 
 "We ll bless the powY that brings release, 
 
 And hail sweet liberty ! 
 
 POLITICAL. 
 
 One can t go right, the other may go wrong. 
 
 THE man who thinks that all is right, 
 Done by republicans, is quite 
 
 Nay dreadfully mistaken: 
 Meanness, and selfishness, and wrong, 
 As much to some of them belong, 
 
 As hog s-flesh does to bacon. 
 
 Some of the leading ones we mean, 
 "Who never fail to step between 
 
 True merit and promotion; 
 Shoving superior worth aside, 
 A pass to make for crafty pride 
 
 Self-idol of devotion. 
 
 Genius is nothing in the scale 
 "Weigh d against property : a whale 
 Oat balances a ruby ; 
 12 
 
<j8 POEM & 
 
 And so the man of wealth we rate> 
 Not by his wisdom, but his weight, 
 A huge important booby ! 
 
 Tisso deny it if you can 
 "Where is the poor but virtuous man, 
 
 Who scorns dissimulation? 
 Not with the bays of honor crown J > 
 Not gen* rally in office found, 
 
 But a secluded station. 
 
 A few mad demagogues combin d, 
 Worse than blind leaders of the blind 
 
 The people land in ditches ; 
 And while they flounce and founder there, 
 Themselves the loaves and fishes shares 
 
 Honor, and pow r, and riches. 
 
 Raising their salaries so high, 
 ((Economy their constant cry) 
 
 A rod -pole cannot reach them ; 
 And would you call them to account, 
 To what would your complaints amount? 
 
 They know you can t impeach them. 
 
 To ev ? ry office in the state, 
 These claim the right to nominate 
 Themselves or their descendeiits; 
 And if you strike them from the list, 
 Large swarms, more hungry still, exist 
 Their friends, and their dependents. 
 
POEMS. tig- 
 
 But let not fed ral leaders hence, 
 Exult in their own innocence, 
 
 Nor think these accusations 
 Exculpate them from equal blame- 
 No to their everlasting shame, 
 
 Much baser speculations 
 
 Have mark d the progress of their reign ^ 
 And should they rise to pow r again, 
 
 (O righteous Heav a forbid it !) 
 What might we not expect from thoste" 
 Who late caress d their country s foes. 
 
 And if they lov d her hid it! 
 
 Evil and good are mixM in all, 
 Great fishes swallow up the small, 
 
 And so twill be forever; 
 Yet, could the people learn to know 
 Their rights, their strength, twould not be so^. 
 
 When will that happen? never. 
 
 1o those democratic Members of Congress, 
 
 voted for the Salary Bill 1816, 
 WELL done, republicans , well done! 
 All your constituents, as one, 
 
 Pronounce you modern sages; 
 Not bound by economic rules, 
 Which govern mercenary fools, 
 
 In calculating wages. 
 
100 POEMS. 
 
 Before, how paltry was your pay! 
 "YVhatr was six dollars for each day, 
 
 Spent in gallanting ladies 
 Riding in coaches, drinking wine. 
 Dressing, and going out to dine, 
 
 As ev ry member s trade is ? 
 
 "What was six dollars for a night? 
 Ah ! here s a question that rubs tight, 
 
 And so we pass it over ; 
 No doubt you gambled, now and then. 
 And liv d like other Congressmen 
 
 That is, like pigs in clover. 
 
 "What if the people groan d and sweat, 
 Beneath the load of public debt, 
 
 To sate your rights contracted ? 
 Must the physician have the less, 
 The more his patient feels distress, 
 
 And gen rously has acted ? 
 
 What if the soldiers scanty pay 
 Was less per month than yours 
 
 His recompence vt*B glory; 
 liut as you ve none of that to share, 
 Would people have you live on air? 
 
 A very pretty story ! 
 
POEMS. 
 
 What is eqality ? pray tell 
 
 A theme which answers mighty well 
 
 To harp on at elections ; 
 But when elected, very soon, 
 You ll find those~harpers change their tune* 
 
 Or play it with objections. 
 
 And what s ceconomy r alas! 
 
 A spurious bill, that will not pass> 
 
 Amongst our legislators; 
 But farmers know it to be true,. 
 And take it as for specie due, 
 
 For they were its creators. 
 
 Haw comfortably must you feel, 
 After a full and hearty meal 
 
 Of public loaves and fishes ; 
 But wait till the next Congress meet -- 
 Chance if they leave you much to eat. 
 
 Except to lick the dishes. 
 
 Yet, after all, tis not so bad 
 One consolation may be had 
 
 Proclaim it, from the steeple, 
 That you resign and so fulfil 
 What you were sent to do the will, 
 
 And icis/tes of the people. 
 
02 POEMS;- 
 
 THE PAPERS. 
 
 Written in 1816. 
 TO take the papers some refuse, 
 Because they say there is no news 
 
 Of Wood, and fire, and thunder; 
 
 But let your recollection range 
 
 Surely ne er happened things more strange;. 
 
 Events more full of wonder ! 
 
 The Hudson river, all suppose, 
 Directly to the southward flows, 
 
 But, waxing mighty cunning, 
 Albanian wiseacres have found, 
 The stream has turnM completely round,. 
 
 And to the north is running ! 
 
 With lifted hands and bristled hair, 
 Do you, affrighted Dreader, stare 
 
 At this odd revolution ? 
 \Vhy, lisas reas nable and true, 
 As what those dunces prate to you 
 
 About the constitution ; 
 
 "Which tells you plainly to your face, 
 That an election shall take place, 
 
 Whenever a vacation 
 Shall happen of the g-or nw s seat? 
 By his removal or retreat, 
 
 By forth* or resignation. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 And yet they torture language so, 
 As to n*ake out that ay means no, 
 
 And c/zos??i not elected ; 
 .But know, vain sophisters, that we, 
 The sovereign people? all can see 
 
 Your object tis detected. 
 
 High sal-rip-, too, the people strike 
 "With consternation .and dislike 
 
 Who echo back their curses; 
 And non-electionists now stand 
 Leagued with those vultures hand in hand, 
 
 That prey upon your purses, 
 
 To foreign regions cast your eyes 
 Does nothing there excite surprise, 
 
 Where dreadful agitations 
 Convulse degraded bleeding France, 
 Who once led tyrants such a dance, 
 
 The wonder of all nations ? 
 
 Portentous clouds o er Europe low r, 
 And some predict the bloody show r 
 
 Th Rourbon house will hit on ; 
 White otb< , pq"-".^- as wise, 
 Fcretel*. ;>:it vengeance f-,m the skies, 
 
 Wili fall upon Great Britain. 
 
 Turning from European scenes, 
 >\ituess the faithless AIerines- 
 
10 4 
 
 All Christendom affrighting ! 
 Lord Exmouth with his squadron strong, 
 Jfinds like Lord Byron s tragic song, 
 
 With more of/o- than fighting, 
 
 Can you, with heart and passions cold, 
 The South Americans behold, 
 > Seeking emancipation 
 From Spanish thraldom, and not feel 
 Your blood alternately congeal, 
 And burn with indignation, 
 
 At the legitimates of Spain? 
 Whose curs d inquisitorial chain 
 
 Binds millions for the slaughter, 
 All for the love and cause of GOD, 
 Making the cross a scourging rod, 
 
 First soakM in holy water. 
 
 Contracting your expanded views, 
 Again survey domestic news 
 
 Important times are coming ; 
 The presidential .-choice draws near, 
 And distant frd ral groans we hear, 
 
 Like partridges a drumming, 
 
 MONROE and TOMPKTNS are the toast, 
 49 a r expectation and our boast, 
 Our confidence and 
 
POEMS. 
 
 On these your suffrages bestow 
 
 . "v 
 
 .And brinr high sai ry members low, 
 Jit least, another story. 
 
 EVILS. 
 
 IN th* best e-overn nent on earth., 
 
 M xt evils may be found ; 
 Which owe their being and their birth 
 
 Not to our mother ground ; 
 But to those passions lodg d in man, 
 That envy, pudz, and at? Vice tan. 
 
 Envy, the meanest of them all, 
 
 With red malignant eyes, 
 Rejoices at a brother s fall, 
 
 And laughs when mis ry cries ! 
 How strange, that such a fiend cf hell, 
 Should ever ia a mortal dwell ! 
 
 Pride, too, dis^isting, hateful imp, 
 From froth and vapor sprung; 
 
 Ambition s slave nay, pleasure s pimp 
 Whose hea-1, atr.I heart, and tongue, 
 
 W :igl i< tl i ^ea her, scarce would show 
 
 Waiun way tilt Balance ought to go. 
 
 - : . . . gga rd , graspi ng h a nd, 
 
 Coils rouud the . .cart by steal tii , 
 
106 POEMS. 
 
 Whose soul is either cash or land 
 
 Whose Ddty is Wealth; 
 To this he adoration pays, 
 And this the heav n for which he prays. 
 
 These, or when clashing, or combin d, 
 Their baleful influence lend, 
 
 Becloud and brutalize the mind, 
 Which knows no other end, 
 
 Till anger, strife, and vengeance pour, 
 
 A wild tornado hear it roar ! 
 
 Swepping the virtues in its course, 
 And spreading wide dismay, 
 
 Despoiling reason of its force, 
 And hurling peace away ; 
 
 Senates and people feel the storm 
 
 Of war internal frightful form ! 
 
 Hence, too, dark jealousies arise, 
 
 Of deleterious pow rs, 
 Which fall in hailstorms, from the skies, 
 
 And b ast tte fairest flowYs 
 Domestic happiness destroy, 
 And all the fruits of tranquil joy. 
 
 Thus urg d, see parties firm engage. 
 
 An ink bespafter d field! 
 And see the warlike papers rage, 
 
 Deterinin d not to yield- 
 
POEMS. lor 
 
 Office, alas ! too oft their aim 
 Unjust reward, too what a shame! 
 
 Oar government is free and ood 
 As e er was foriu d by 11x1111, 
 
 The price of toils, of groans, ofbloodj 
 And wisdom is its plan ; 
 
 Yet sufijr reasou thus t infer 
 
 ? ris human and of course may err* 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 Published in the Northern Budget 180S, 
 IIOW pleasing now to range the fields, 
 "When nature all her fragrance yields, 
 
 And when she deigns to bring, 
 Of vernal joys, the green-rob d train, 
 Who dance, enraptur d, o er the plain, 
 
 Led by the charmer, SPIUXG. 
 
 The lambs their sprightly gambols play, 
 The birds awake the matin lay, 
 
 And mount upon the wing 
 Convene, and forming dulcet choirs, 
 Sate their chaste, innocent desires, 
 
 And hail the smiling SPRING. 
 
 Not the sweet voices of the Nine, 
 Should Grp/teusaud Jpotfojoiii. 
 
10S POEMS, 
 
 each atfune the string, 
 Coukl half the music yiuld, for me, 
 As, warbling from yon bush and tree, 
 The melody of SPUING, 
 
 Though naked and forlorn the trees 
 (Like sailors shipwreck d on the seas) 
 
 Late felt the Winter frsting, 
 TS thine to clothe them, and to vvarm r 
 To feed them to repel the storm- 
 
 So bountiful is SPRING. 
 
 Though modern bards.fand those of yore 
 Have sun^ thy praises o er and o er, 
 
 Aj;aiii the Muse s lall sing 
 Of all thy virtues, and thy pow r 
 To charm the bud into a flow r, 
 
 Thou soul-enliv mng SPRING. 
 Confin d to cities noisy sports, 
 "Whether in Congress, or in courts, 
 
 I is but a joyless tiling ; 
 Midst the dull round of pleasures stale, 
 The cit but seldom can inhale 
 
 The balmy breath of SPRING. 
 
 While tumults craze the heads o r statc a 
 The rich, voluptuous and the great, 
 
 Or President, or king ; 
 The peasant, in his homelv <a r e, 
 Devoid "Ttltlps, wealth or c r^, 
 
 Tastes all the sweets of SPE:H 5. 
 
POEMS. 10D 
 
 But since the fairest flovv ? r must fade- 
 Must meet destruction all that s made, 
 
 When Death his dart shall fling, 
 Let us enjoy the passing hour, 
 Till we arrive where every flow r 
 Blooms in eternal SPRING. 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 Addressed to a friend, on reading his poetical effu 
 sion, called " RESIGNATION." 
 
 THYheav n-tuught strains that sweetly flow, 
 In resignation to thy woe, 
 
 With ipiv nag lips I read ; 
 While weeping Sympathy stood near, 
 And holy, holy was the tear 
 
 The listening angel shed. 
 
 Soft Sensibility awoke 
 
 She saw the wound and felt the stroke 
 
 Affliction gave her son ; 
 But faint and trembling at the sight, 
 Could only veil her eyes of light, 
 
 And weep for what was done. 
 
 Oh ! had I pow r, the gift or skill, 
 But co-extensive with tne will, 
 How gladly would I pour 
 K 2 
 
110 POEM& 
 
 The balm of consolation where 
 The fiends of sorrow, grief and care. 
 Could torture thee no more. 
 
 But, like thyself, pale mis ry s child, 
 I zander through a dismal wild, 
 
 Unpitied lost forlorn ^ 
 No gleam of hope illumes the way I 
 A total dark eclipse of day, 
 
 A night without a morn 
 
 
 Is still my lot and God alone, 
 
 Whose will in earth and heav n be done, 
 
 Can solve the doubt and show, 
 "Why man was born to ceaseless pain, 
 And why the heart must bleed in vain,, 
 
 At sight of others* woe. 
 
 But, as from darkest clouds that rise, 
 Jleav n s lightnings blaze athwart the skies, 
 
 At midnight s avviul gloom, 
 Unveiling glories else unseen; 
 So ligiit divine breaks in between 
 
 Our sorrows and the tomb. 
 
POEMS. 1U 
 
 TO SUMMER. 
 
 TFritttn in Dug dans. 
 I VE sung, and hope a<;uin to sing 
 The j >ys of Autumn, Winter, Spring,^ 
 
 Those multifarious seasons; 
 But sever jet have trill M a lay- 
 To thee, O SUMMER, in my day, 
 
 For no substantial reasons. 
 
 Come then, neglected maid, draw near? 
 And a sweet sonnet thou shall hear, 
 
 From one who loves thee dearly; 
 For he who feels, through all his frame, - 
 As if his flesh were in a flame, 
 
 Must worship thee sincerely. 
 
 Come with thy sparkling blue cast eyes 
 Those gems that bless the cloudless skies, 
 
 When sun and moon are sleeping, 
 And pensive nature softly sheds 
 Her pearly dew-drops o er their beds, 
 
 As if their exit weeping. 
 
 Come, at the morning s early dawn, 
 When night her curtain has withdrawn, 
 
 And day, with all his splendors, 
 Walks forth in majesty and pride, 
 While stars their beauteous (aces hide, 
 
 And earth her homage renders. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Come, at the sultry noontide heat, 
 Anil lead me to a cool retreat, 
 
 Where a delicious fountain 
 Profusely issues from a rock, 
 Hent by an earthquake s awful shock 
 
 The foot of yonder mountain. 
 
 There let me join the reaper s ring, 
 And quatFthe waters of the spring, 
 
 Transmuted into swiichpt; 
 A nectar which the gods might sip t - 
 Or pass the eulogizing lip 
 
 Of whaling Doctor Mitchell. 
 
 Come with thy table richly spread, 
 For which no victim s life has bled, 
 
 Thy green -corn and potatoes 
 Thy blushing cherries melons sweet, 
 That look impatient to be eat, 
 
 And temptingly await us. 
 
 Come with thy roses, breathing round 
 A fragrance not in nature found, 
 
 Save in the breath of beauty ; 
 Whose teints no mortal cheek outvies, 
 Save hers which borrow* from the skies, 
 
 The glow of Christian duty. 
 
 Come with thy diadem of flowers, 
 Queen of the warm prolific powers 
 
POEMS. 113 
 
 That bring forth vegetation ; 
 And let thy heavenly breezes blow. 
 And sweep contagion from below, 
 
 To dead annihilation. 
 
 ? Tis true, thy bed-bugs, flies and fleas. 
 Musquetoes, wasps, and warlike bees ? 
 
 Tormentingjy assail us 
 Bite, sting, and suck our vital gore^- 
 Until our snarling flesh is sore, 
 
 And rest and patience fail us ; 
 
 Eut ev ry evil has its good, 
 
 And though we loose a little blood, 
 
 Perhaps tis all the better; 
 Heaven writes on rnis ries as they fall, 
 A saving lesson to us all. 
 
 And man must read the letter. 
 
 But hark I the hoarse loud thunder roars ! 
 From heaven the rushing rain Hood pours <- - 
 
 The vifid lightning fiashos! 
 
 It dims my sight i drop my pen, 
 
 The frighten d mu^e^ cry a-neri 
 
 As down tae torrent dashes. 
 
114 POEMS. 
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 LET other poets flap the plume, 
 TV si jr and sing; of " Autumn s g 
 
 I see m> mighty reason 
 "Why Autumn, if improv d aright 
 Is not as pregnant with delight 
 
 As any other season. 
 
 Spring, like a fair but fickle maid, 
 Soon changes soon begins to fade, 
 
 Though always blit K e and charming; 
 And Winter, wayward, b uff, and wild, 
 Though grey, is nothing but a child, 
 
 With passions oft alarming. 
 
 Summer is quite enchanting, too, 
 Has rosy cheeks nectareous dew, 
 
 But then the earth is toasting 
 With such insufferable heat, 
 As if mankind were made to eat, 
 
 And only wanted roasting. 
 
 But Autumn comes, serenely gay, 
 In dress more lady-like than May ^ 
 
 More gaudy hues adorning; 
 Belike a maidi-n some in years, 
 "Who very beautiful appears, 
 
 Fresh painted ev ry morning? 
 
POEMS. ;11; 
 
 To yonder forest cast your eye, 
 "With rain-bow tints iier colors vie, 
 
 And full as transitory ; 
 For ev ry breeze of heav n that blows, 
 Do ,vn s down some trembling signal goes 3 
 
 Of Autumn s fading glory. 
 
 Yet under Fall s auspfcious reign. 
 Health, foil -fed, bounds along the plain, 
 
 Wifh plenty for the morrow ; 
 While gratitude and peace unite, 
 To fill the soul with pu e delight, 
 
 And banish ev ry sorrow. 
 October, 
 
 THE WVY TO BE HAPPY, 
 
 DO troubles overwhelm thy soul, 
 
 Like billows of the ocean, 
 That o er the shipwrecked victim mil, 
 
 In terrible commotion ; 
 Seize bold IMAGINATION S wing, 
 
 And soar to heav n, so seeming, 
 Or reign a potentate and king 
 
 Tis all obtained by DREAMING. 
 
 .Do pain and poverty u<iite 
 ^o rob thee of all pleasure- 
 
116 .POEMS. 
 
 Like thieves break in at dead of night, 
 
 \nd sts.l away thy treasure, 
 Ti:e treasure of a tranquil mind 
 
 With joy and rapture teeming, 
 Seek seek, my friend and thou shalt fiud 
 
 More solid joy in DREAMING. 
 
 For let the world still darker frown 
 Than night-clouds on creation, 
 
 And show r its ter/old vengeance down., 
 Ifr wrath and indignation, 
 
 On ? devoted head of mine, 
 One star is still left gleaming, 
 
 One light that will forever shine 
 The hope the bliss of DREAMING. 
 
 The world can neither ive nor take 
 
 Awav *-ipe mental riches; 
 The 1 - - i^inf and sleeping or awake, 
 
 I iov- the little witches; 
 Thev charm my senses to repose, 
 
 Wli)e cares and want arc screaming, 
 My eves and ears to misYy close, 
 
 And give me peace in DREAMING. 
 
 "Whc ne er 1 lay me down to rest, 
 
 With toils and sorrows wear\ 
 A heart most feelingly distivst, 
 on earth looka dreary ; 
 
POEMS, iir 
 
 -Aerial pow rs around me throng, 
 
 With light and glory beaming. 
 And v/aft in y raptux d soul along 
 
 The paradise of DREAMING. 
 
 And oft as pensively I walk 
 
 In solitary places, 
 1 1.--.1!- celestial spirits talk, 
 
 And ihink I see their faces; 
 They bid me leave all earthly things, 
 
 AW - g-ief are streaming 
 
 I mou .; IMAGIXATION S wings, 
 
 And iliid ray heav n in DREAMING. 
 
 WOMAN. 
 
 WHEN Man had doom d himself to woes- 
 Woes that forever had undone him, 
 
 And God in wrathful vengeance rose 
 To execute his sentence on him, 
 
 The burning- ire of opening hell 
 
 Burst forth, and flames were kindling round him, 
 
 But angel s tears in torrents fell, 
 
 And quench d those flames where justice bound 
 him. 
 
 Tor their own likeness, by his side, 
 
 In all the loveliness of beauty, 
 They saw Vis new created bride, 
 
 Still chaste, though wander d frai her duty? 
 
118 POEMS. 
 
 They saw that MERCY, too, was movMr- 
 Prostrate in earnest intercession ; 
 
 Of all heaven s host the well belov d, 
 Self-ofter d up for man s transgression. 
 
 And though man s woes and mis ries, all, 
 
 Are charg d on woman, who ador d him ; 
 If Wtmian tempted man to fall, 
 
 Twas fFomaw s promis d seed restor d him. 
 O WOMAN! were it not for thee, 
 
 With all thy frailties still about thee, 
 Ihis world the veriest hell would bp, 
 
 Jlnd heaven itself no heaven without thee. 
 
 FIRE. 
 
 DECEITFUL demagogues may prate 
 Their warm attachment to the state, 
 
 And burn with party ire ; 
 Give me, while such for office fi^ht, 
 Domestic peace, a mansion tight, 
 
 Health, competence, and Fire. 
 
 Let belles and beaux, poor silly souls, 
 By guilty passion scorch"d to coals, 
 
 Inflames of IOVR expire ; 
 Give me of friends the cheering smile, 
 With ligneus stores, a monstrous pile? 
 
 The element of Fire. 
 
POEMS. U9 
 
 When from the chilling toils of day, 
 The lumbVing sled, or pleasure sleigh, 
 
 \Ve to our homes retire ; 
 To warm our limbs, prepare our food, 
 How welcome is a stick of wood> 
 
 How charming is a Fire! 
 
 Men haveaclurMthee, well they might, 
 Great source of heat ! great source of light ! 
 
 \\ horn nations all admire; 
 For, void of thee, would earth become 
 Erivelop d in eternal gloom, 
 
 Thou glorious orb of Fire/ 
 
 No Salamander breed I boast, 
 Nor do 1 wish myself to roast, 
 
 Nor is it my desire 
 To live, like Tantalus, within 
 A lake tartarian to my chin, 
 
 Of brimstone and of Fire. 
 
 Jso all my pray r, avoiding this, 
 
 (For present joys, nor future bliss 
 
 Is o Hindoo rites require) 
 Is with that heavenly flame to glow, 
 "Which lights the good, when hence they go, 
 To shun that dreadful pit below, 
 
 That burns with endless Firs. 
 Feb. 1, 1816. 
 
im POEM*. 
 
 From the Plough Bnrj. 
 
 We are oblip^d to rwfriei *. KAY for the follow 
 ing elegant effusion, The New-\ear$ Address of 
 The Plough Boy was from the same pen. We 
 mention this fact now, because that poem, which 
 was excellent of its kind, was attributed to another 
 source by some of our readers. 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 Written in May, 
 LOOK through creation; and behold, 
 
 The wonders oi Almighty pow ? r; 
 ETERNAL WISDOM S works unfold, 
 
 In ev ry leaf in ev r ry flow r: 
 There is a GOD, all good, all wise, 
 The very meanest insect cries. 
 
 Seasons revolving in their spheres } 
 
 \ thousand rural beauties bring, 
 But loveliest of the group appears, 
 
 The green-dress d beauty, charming Spring, 
 The music of whose morning voice, 
 Bids all the sons of earth rejoice. 
 
 Winter is death when Nature mourns 
 
 To see her offspring: l ! feless lie; 
 Summer and Autumn weep by turns, 
 
 To see their children droop and die 5 
 Bui Spring revives their hopes again, 
 And breathes new life through ev ry vein. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 How emblematic of that day, 
 The glorious resurrection morn, 
 
 "When deck d in brighter robes than 
 In robes that angel hosts adorn, 
 
 The soul redeem d shall burst its tomb, 
 
 And in immortal glory bloom. 
 
 EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY . 
 
 THE CARRIER OF THE PLOUGH BOY TO HIS PATRONS, 
 
 YOUR faithful CARRIER of the News, 
 
 For publisher and printer, 
 "Who cheerfully his route pursues 
 
 Through all the storms of Winter, 
 Salutes you with a hearty wish 
 
 That CASH may be more plenty, 
 And brings you a poetic dish 
 
 For EIGHTEEN HUNDRED T\YEXTY, 
 
 As viewless? time, in swift career, 
 
 Still driving on his stages, 
 Has wheel d along another year, 
 
 The youngest born of ajjes, 
 So let us freely speed the way 
 
 That brings us joy and plenty, 
 And join to hail the New- Year s day 
 
 Of EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTF. 
 
 L 2 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Thrice happy is the Plough "Boy s lot 
 
 Above all other stations 
 Lord of the soil a snug warm cot, 
 
 Well stor d with wholesome rations, 
 He reigns sole monarch of his home, 
 
 With friends around him plenty, 
 And joins to hail the year, that s come, 
 
 Of EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY. 
 
 He scorns those plodding sprites of state 
 
 Ambition, Honours, Riches, 
 That haunt and ride the would-be great. 
 
 Worse worse than Salem witches ; 
 But seated in his elbow chair, 
 
 With friends and cider plenty, 
 He plans the Show, and toasts the Fair. 
 
 Of EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY. 
 
 Through this and ev ? ry future year 3 
 
 May happiness attend you 
 Kind PROVIDENCE no blasted ear, 
 
 No dearths or mildews send you 
 But seeds of peace and virtue sown, 
 
 Produce a crop of plenty, 
 And SICKNESS ne er be heard to groan, 
 
 In EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY. 
 
 And as the times press sore and hard 
 On ail concerned hi 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Their oft, and almost sole reward, 
 Embarrassment, distresses 
 
 The life ral, friendly, and the JMst, 
 Who iave the shiners plenty. 
 
 Will spare a !if!e CHINK, I trust, 
 
 For EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY, 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 Written in 1816, 
 
 Lo ! Winter s fierce embattled clouds, 
 That rush d in gloomy sable crowds* 
 
 Before the driving blast, 
 O er the veil d visage of the Sun, 
 Who swiftly seem d himself to run, 
 
 And dread them as he pass d, 
 
 Are gone dissoh d in melting snevrs j 
 And the same rill that lisping flows, 
 
 Once saii d in yonder sky 
 In vapors clad its fancy form, 
 Till crush d amidst the grinding storm> 
 
 It rain d down from on-high. 
 
 Burst are the chains that lately bound 5 
 And lo! th emancipated ground 
 Her independence feels f 
 
U4 POEMS. 
 
 And smiling with intense delight; 
 Like morning breaking fiom the night, 
 Creative pow r reveals. 
 
 The liberated rivers flow, 
 
 And conscious forests laugh to know 
 
 Their species are set free 
 From tyrant Winter ; ami, again 
 Bounds the white blood through ev ry vein, 
 
 Of ev ry joyous tree. 
 
 Brisk robin redbreast first appears; 
 Her presence banishes the fears, 
 
 Which snow birds might prolengV- 
 She wafts us, on her golden wing, 
 The tidings in the breath of Spring,- 
 
 And hails it with a song. 
 
 The vegetable kingdoms own 
 Allegiance to no other throne, 
 
 O 
 
 Than where th ALMIGHTY reigns j 
 To him their tender hands they raise B 
 In silent, but expressive praise, 
 
 O er all the adoring plains. 
 
 Reanimated flies and worms, 
 
 Of twice ten thousand diff rent forms, 
 
 From tombs of frost arise ; 
 Throw off their grave-clothes, and appear, 
 To witness, that the new born year, 
 
 Is lent us from the skies. 
 
FOEMS. 12$ 
 
 And shall ungrateful man, for whom 
 Earth teems with fruits, and Edens b!o 
 
 No thankful offerings bring? 
 Join, then, ye grov iing slaves of pride, 
 To dust, to worms, to Heaven allied, 
 
 And bless the GOD of SPRING. 
 
 THE PLOUGH BOY AND THE DANDY. 
 A FABLE. 
 
 Some saj there s nothing made in vain, 
 While others the reverse maintain, 
 
 And prove it verj handy, 
 By citing animals like these- 
 Musquetoes, bed-bugs, crickets, fleas, 
 
 And, worse than all a DAXDY ! 
 
 But Nature never made the last ; 
 In some factitious muuld was cast, 
 
 A thing which all outmatches; 
 Or from a tailor s shop let loose, 
 UatchM out ovipVous from his goose. 
 
 Among his cabt/age patches. 
 
 One of these insects chancM to meet 
 A robust Plough Boy in the street 
 (Tv/as very muddy weather,) 
 
The Farmer dodg d the Dandy too 
 And both one way what should they do* 
 Hut run up smack together. 
 
 Down went the Dandy in the mud, 
 
 For know that mortal flesh and blood 
 Outweighs a slim rag baby; 
 
 And tis in balancing a law, 
 
 That bones are heavier much than straw 
 As easy prov d as may be. 
 
 The Dandy, all besmear d with di-t, 
 Gloves, clean wash d vest, and rufflM shiri, 
 
 Flew in a furious passion 
 Curs d swore and picking np his cane, 
 Essay d to crack the Plough Boy s brain, 
 
 In mighty genteel fashion. 
 
 The Farmer warded off* the blows, 
 And seizing Dandy by the nose, 
 
 Gave it a dreadful twisting; 
 Then flung him flat upon his back, 
 In spite of many a fierce attack, 
 
 And all his vain resisting 
 
 Together tied, with skins of eels, 
 The struggling biped s muddy heels, 
 
 A dread to fops hereafter 
 Drag^ d him along head downwards, took 
 And hung him on a sign-post hook 
 
 A spectacle for laughter. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 We hope that Dandies, after this, 
 May warning take for hit or miss, 
 
 They must pull down their banners- 
 Must strike to homespun common sense, 
 Must doff their peak of insolence, 
 
 And practise better manners. 
 
 POKER & Ct, 
 
 THE HILL AND HOLLOW* 
 "WHEN people seek a building scite, 
 
 For business whidh they follow, 
 Some choose a. Hill exactly right, 
 
 And some prefer a Hollow ; 
 And so it is, go where you will, 
 Some like a hollow some a hill 
 
 The youthful poet, first begins 
 Vallonio?* streams to swallow ; 
 
 She lfadshiin till he breaks his shins, 
 O e> Satyrs, in th hollow; 
 
 He then attempts to cli.uh the hill, 
 
 Where the nine Muses have a rill. 
 
 * In order to erirp these 1 nei a more forcibl- application, it is n#tes> 
 try for the reader tbr MM , "f .e s ii^inra- c r : t. liat fhrre is, IB 
 the caunfy .-f )H . g--. r\o !> , so-ne v li g* s. \\ h . r, m ]*> of each 
 iher, eue faiUd Oie " HILL, juul tUe ouier tiie JUOLLCAV," 
 
128 POEMS. 
 
 But meets in the Parnassian road, 
 Which bards of fame all follow, 
 
 Huge rivals, who his verse explode, 
 And kick him to the hollow ; 
 
 Where he remains, to dip his bill 
 
 In puddles which descend the Hill. 
 
 The politician, just, and wise 
 
 A.S Minos or Apollo, 
 Essays the hill of fame to rise, 
 
 But slides back to the huliow ; 
 Because he strove to mount the hill, 
 Repugnant to the people** will. 
 
 The Christian leaves his humble way, 
 
 The paths of sin to follow. 
 Soon as he finds himself astray, 
 
 Will seek again the hollow 
 Will leave the bleak and boisterous hiU 
 Of strife and passion, pride and will* 
 
 The youth who courts dishonest fame, 
 
 Whatever he may follow, 
 W r ill find his pathway end in shame 
 
 A swampa miry hollow ; 
 Then let him flounce, howe er he will, 
 Hard will it be to gain the hill. 
 
 The benuteous maid, whose soul is love, 
 With cautious steps should follow, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Where wily men of pleasure move,,. 
 
 The fopling s heart is hollow; 
 Twere better your life-blood to spill, 
 Than trundle, witha-rak, dosvn hill. 
 
 When in prosperity, our friends 
 Will like a house-dog follow; 
 
 But when adversity descends, 
 And sweeps us to the hollow, 
 
 Wdl any help you up the hill? 
 
 Yes scorn and persecution will. 
 
 Life is at best a thorny vale, 
 Where hissing serpents wallow, 
 
 Where beasts of prey our peace assail- 
 A dreary pathless hollow ! 
 
 A ragged, barren, rocky hill, 
 
 Prolific, though, of human ill. 
 
 Yet wheresoe er our lot is cast, 
 
 Let us our duty follow, 
 Twill waft us to a hill at last, 
 
 Above an awful hollow, 
 To drink of endless bliss, our fill, 
 ,F.or Heav n is cali d a Holy Hill. 
 
 M 
 
130 POEMS. 
 
 THE GRAND CANAL. 
 
 Written in 1816. 
 
 Th ALMIGHTY ARCHITECT, above, 
 In boundless wisdom boundless love, 
 
 liatli meted, with a span, 
 A checker d map of earth and seas, 
 And said, -go thou inherit these, 
 
 "Apostate creature man!" 
 
 " Thine are the waters, thine the lanfl, 
 "Subdue, control, direct, command, 
 
 " And to thy use apply 
 "The lakes, the rivers, mountains, plains, 
 "All the stupendous globe contains, 
 
 " And all th involving sky." 
 
 The loud OMNIPOTENT behest, 
 
 In thunder came in lightning dress d^ 
 
 And man was taught to know 
 Both good and evil doom d to toil, 
 To scour the ocean, break the soil, 
 
 Though lord of all below. 
 
 To agriculture, soon succeeds 
 More bold and enterprising deeds, 
 
 And commerce wing d her stores; 
 Nations were call d to mutual marts, 
 Fancy and want invented arts, 
 
 And mines produc d their ores. 
 
POEMS* 13.1 
 
 If rivers have been turn d aside, 
 Wnen potent man was seen to chide, 
 
 And stem the torrent wave ; 
 If ocean, formidable, wild, 
 Now tam d, and conquer d by a child, 
 
 Is man-s obedient slave ; 
 
 If mountains have been made to bend. 
 That pow rful armies might ascend, 
 
 And Babel s tow rs to rise ; 
 If lofty Pyramids are seen, 
 To show what mortals once have been, 
 
 And mock Egyptian skies ; 
 
 If human skill, and human might, 
 
 Have brought mysterious worlds to light, 
 
 And rein d the shafts of hcav n 
 Explored the path where planets run, 
 And clasp d the circle of the sun, 
 
 As to a Newton giv n ; 
 
 What untried efforts yet remain* 
 To break the intellectual chain 
 That tow ring genius binds ; 
 To burst the shell of brooding thought, 
 "Whose unfledg d ignorance is sough t 
 And where the seeker finds; 
 
 Let Clinton s mental powVs unfold; 
 Who first conceiv d the project bold, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 To bid the western floods 
 Revolt from nature s long control, 
 Freely through new-mark d regions roll, , 
 
 And leave th astonish d woods. 
 
 Immortal be the statesman s name, 
 Eternal be the patriot s fame, 
 
 Who shall mature the plan! 
 And draw those oceans from the west, 
 To bathe th Vlantic s heaving breast,. 
 
 A monument to man! 
 
 Bold is th attempt, and wise the scheme, 
 August the work, sublime the theme, 
 
 May list ning millions hear ; 
 And unborn ages share the prize, 
 Long as the sun is known to rise, 
 
 Or stars in heaven appear. 
 
POEMS. 13* 
 
 From Hi? Onondaga Gazette, 1816. 
 
 A customer in Spajj ord, has entered a seriouft 
 complaint to the Editor of this paper, arid re 
 quested him to tak e poetical, (not official} notice 
 ot certain etiquette now in lull vo,me amongst 
 t!:e beaux of that town. As we wUh to gratify 
 our patrons by every means within our reach, 
 and every effort in our power, we really hope the 
 young gentlemen and ladies will pardon us for 
 any seeming improprieties in the following dis 
 charge of our duty. 
 
 THE COMPLAINT. 
 A CORRESPONDENT much complains, 
 That recently our country swains 
 
 Are growing so polite, 
 They cannot let the sabbath pass, 
 Without gallanting home a lass 
 
 From meeting, day or night* 
 
 He say^ in old Connecticut 
 Tis not the practice therefore, but 
 A scand lous calculation; 
 
 For there they let the ladies go 
 Alnm through rainstorms, mud or snow, 
 To work their own salvation. 
 
 But pray, my friend, where is the harm, 
 In taking hold a lady s arm, 
 
 Aud walking home from meeting ? 
 M 2 
 
134 POEMS. 
 
 Provided nothing ill they touch, 
 It certainly cannot be such 
 A crime as merits beating. 
 
 In old Connecticut, tis true, 
 
 "Where laws, as well as lights are blue 
 
 The land of steady habits 
 On pain of fines, no person may 
 Gallant the girls, a sabbath day, 
 
 Tho round him thick as rabbits. 
 
 But here, the laws are not so bad, 
 //ere, ev ry loving lass and lad 
 
 May bend or break the Sunday ; 
 For many, strange as it may seem, 
 The day of no importance deem, 
 
 As different from Monday. 
 
 Yet, did they practise nothing worse, 
 And follow other things of course, 
 
 Abominable sporting ; 
 The crime, perhaps, were not so great 
 As Hartford treason gainst the state, 
 
 To do a little courting. 
 
 Against politeness is th* offence, 
 This is our customer s pretence, 
 
 And be it so awarded ; 
 Politeness, then, to thee I bow, 
 But cannot, for my life, see how 
 
 Thy forms arc disregarded. 
 
POEMS. 135 
 
 And if, in this enlightened land, 
 To lead a sister by the hand, 7 
 
 Be deem d an act uncivil 
 A deed unholy and unclean, 
 Few, tis much-fear d will scape between 
 
 The world, the flesh, and devil. 
 
 1R OM A MAN ON THE EARTH TO THE 
 
 MAN IN THE MOON. 
 FROM childhood to age have I watch d thee, my 
 
 friend, 
 
 Careering aloft through the skies; 
 Through night s beaming splendors have seen thee 
 
 descend, 
 To darkness and seen thee arise. 
 
 Magnificent, bright, midst an army of stars, 
 To march through the heavens again, 
 
 Attended by meteors in ether-built cars, 
 A brilliant, immaculate train. 
 
 What regions of glory thine eye must explore, 
 
 UnditnM by the shadows of time; 
 What gulfs of thick darkness thy chariot bound o er* 
 
 What heaven-daring Andes sublime, 
 
 Vouchsafe, mighty giant, to drop me a line, 
 By moon-beams that steal round my bed ; 
 
156 POEMS. 
 
 Or tell them fo whisper, in dreams half divine. 
 The secrets that puzzle my head. 
 
 Dost thou, in thy wand rings, the Pleiades meet, 
 
 An j iv-?t on the neck of the bull ; 
 To catch solar splendors, where er they retreat; 
 
 Till Cynthia her horn gathers full? 
 
 Or dost thou Arcturus accost in thy way, 
 
 And ask of Orion what news?. 
 Re-light up thy lamp at the candle of day, 
 
 "When all other candles refuse ? 
 
 Art thou the sole monarch of that whirling ball, 
 * That wheels thee so dizzy alons; ? 
 Or what do the Moonites, in their lingo, call 
 The hero and theme of my song? 
 
 Do people, if peop e there are in the moon, 
 
 Walk upright, or go on all fours ? 
 And have they long tails, like the rakish baboon, 
 
 And some politicians of ours ? 
 
 Do ladies there dress in their plume shaded crapes, 
 
 So volatile, chirping and fair, 
 "Were H not for their size, and their half human 
 shapes, 
 
 You d take them for birds of the air? 
 
 And hast thou a creature no other world ha*, 
 Except our terrestrial one here, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 A species whose likeness before never was, 
 And never again may appea 
 
 In all thy wild rambles by Hay or by night, 
 
 Aerial, by land or by sea, 
 Hasi thou ever seen such a terrible si; it - 
 
 Are there any DANDIES with thee? 
 
 VILL\GE GREATNESS, 
 
 In ev ry country village, where 
 
 Ten chimney smokes perfume the air,. 
 
 Contiguous to a steeple, 
 Great gentlefolks are found, a score* 
 "W o can t associate, any more, 
 
 With common country people. 9 
 
 Jack Fallow, born amongst the woods* 
 From rolling loirs, now rolls in goods, 
 
 Enough a while to dash on 
 Tells negro-stories smokes segars 
 Talks politics decides on wars 
 And lives in stylish fashion. 
 
 Tim Ox-goad, lately from the plough^ 
 A polish, d gentleman is now, 
 
 And talks of * country fellows ? 
 But ask the fop what books he s read 
 You ll find the brain-pan of bis head*. 
 
 As empty as a bellows. 
 
138 POEMS. 
 
 JV/jss Faddle, lately from the wheel, 
 IV ^ins quite lady-like to feel, 
 And talks affectedly genteel, 
 
 And sings some tasty songs, too ? 
 B it my veracity impeach, 
 If she can tell what part of speech,. 
 
 Gentility belongs to* 
 
 "Without one spark of wit refin d, 
 "Without one beauty of the mind- 
 Genius or education, 
 Or family, or fame, to boast, 
 To see such gentry rule the toast, 
 Turns patience to vexation. 
 
 To clear such rubbish from the earth, 
 Though real genius mental worth, 
 
 And science to attend you, 
 You might as well the sty n fine, 
 Or cast your pearls before the swine. 
 
 They d only turn and rend you, 
 
POEMS. 13$ 
 
 The following was written after a severe thunder 
 stoiin on a very sultry night in August, at the 
 full of the moon, and when we had had a thick 
 smoky atmosphere, in a very dry time. 
 
 The sun set in fire, and the moon rose in blood, 
 The. stars they look d pale at the sight ; 
 
 Aud ne er since the time of the world-drowning 
 
 flood, 
 Was felt a more comfortless nigbt. 
 
 A black giant-cloud show d his head in the west, 
 And rearing his mountain-like form, 
 
 Midst dread gleaming lightnings that,flashM fro 
 
 his breast, 
 In thunder announced, that a storm 
 
 Was marching apace through the fields of the air* 
 
 With all hisartill ryathand; 
 And soon we perceiv d, by the lightning s red glare, 
 
 It mov d as his winds gave coaunaLd. 
 
 The moon travell d on, unappall d at the scene, 
 
 Like virtue intrepid and calm, 
 1 Who knows that the*word of affliction is keen, 
 And has for the wounded a balm. 
 
 To shun the dark conflict she ne er turn d aside. 
 
 But faced it and firmly pursued 
 The path which her Maker has markM out so wide, 
 
 >>ith star-gems abundant!) 
 
140 POEMS. 
 
 And now the whole firmament wrapp d in a flam* , 
 
 And rolling its thunders below, 
 Appear d as if Nature, dissolving, her frame, 
 
 Would sink us to fathomless wo ! 
 
 But mark how kind Providence shapes his decrees* 
 The tempest quite harmless pass d o er 
 
 The much-wanted rain fell in floods and the breeze 
 Brought health where twas sickness before. 
 
 "THE HIVE." 
 
 Near the lake of Skaneateles, there is a Friends 5 
 Female Boarding School called " The Hive" 
 conducted by Mrs. LYDIA P. MOTT, Mr. CALEB 
 MEKEEL, and Miss SARAH M. UNDERBILL; to 
 w! om this tribute of respect is feelingly address- 
 cd. 
 
 AROUND thy shores, delightful lake, 
 
 What beauteous prospects lie ! 
 And thy calm waves a mirror make, 
 
 Reflecting eanh and sky. 
 
 Thy green-clad banks that gently slope, 
 
 And scarce forbid t y flow, 
 Seem heaving like the breast of Hope, 
 
 Wash d by the floods of wo. 
 
 The rich luxuriant hills and plains, 
 .And circumjacent groves, 
 
 
POEMS. 
 
 A landscape form that woosand gains 
 The graces and the loves. 
 
 But midst the bright enchanting scenes 
 
 That cluster round thy shores, 
 There s one the field where beauty gleans 
 
 Her scientific stores, 
 
 More lovely far than all the rest 
 
 That on thy borders thrive 
 The little humming honied nest, 
 
 So rightly named " Ttie Hive^ 
 
 Thither full many a mother s heart 
 
 Is carried with her child ; 
 And there each profitable arc, 
 
 Instil! d with precepts mild, 
 
 Is gathered from those tender flowers 
 
 That in perfection bloom, 
 Where genius buds and heavenly showers 
 
 Exhale a rich perfim;e. 
 
 That no rude hand may pluck the fruit 
 Tho3(> charming bezs may bring ; 
 
 No parent s heart detest the brute 
 That wounds it with a sting:, 
 
 Ye sentinels who watch tha . : 
 The sacrc:! treasures guard 
 
 cvVy yo. . a i 
 
 And heaven is your rev 
 N 
 
142 POEMS. 
 
 FALSE FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 THE man who styles himself my friend, 
 
 And quits me in disaster, 
 Is worse than perfidy s fag-end, 
 
 To thus betray his master ; 
 Than such a friend, th Almighty knows, 
 I d rather have ten thousand foes. 
 
 What is he like ? A fawning cat, 
 Which purrs for your caresses, 
 
 But leaves you. when he smells a rat 
 In midst of deep distresses ; 
 
 Nay lacerates with teeth and claws, 
 
 The hand that pats him with applause. 
 
 What is he like ? The glozing snake. 
 That charms his feather d gazer, 
 
 Whose only object is to make 
 A victim of his praiser ; 
 
 Down drops the bird with feeble cries, 
 
 An unresisting sacrifice. 
 
 What is he like ? His own dark sUade a 
 Seen but in sunshine weather, 
 
 Of vanity s reflections made, 
 And something like a feather; 
 
 At evVy adverse breeze that blows, 
 
 Round round he flies away he goes. 
 
POEMS. 143 
 
 What is lie like? The crafty fox, 
 
 Who cSaim d to be defender 
 Of unsuspecting chicken flocks, 
 
 When lo, the base pretender, 
 To make his declarations good, 
 W r bips off their heads and sucks their blood. 
 
 What is he like? That grim old elf, 
 
 Who flatterd Mrs. Adam 
 To damn her husband arid herself, 
 
 (A very pretty madam :) 
 Twas friendship s false beguiling arts, 
 First gave the world such aching hearts. 
 
 And what is Woman s friendship like, 
 
 That fairest of all creatures ? 
 Digust it never fails to strike, 
 
 It* treachery mark its features; 
 Tis like a spirit of disgrace- 
 A demon with an angel face. 
 
144 POEMS. 
 
 not away that life you cannot give:; 
 For all things have an equal rlglt to live. 
 
 DB.YDEU. 
 REMORSE, 
 
 On killing a squirrel in a garret. 
 RASH was the hand and foul the deed, 
 
 That gave thee, thus to death a prey , 
 Oh ! I could weep to see thee bleed, 
 
 And pant thy gasping life away. 
 
 What hndst thou done to merit death, 
 
 But gather for a future day ? 
 Just to prolong thy little breath ; 
 
 And yet I took thy life away. 
 
 For thou no wealth or fame didst crave- 
 
 No costly food, or clothing gay; 
 But only sought thy life to save, 
 
 And yet I took thy life away. 
 
 Poor little thing ! how hard it strove 
 To shun the blows, as hid it lay ; 
 
 But all could not my pity move, 
 I took its trembling life away. 
 
 Oh ! how inhospitably vile ! 
 
 It came, a stranger, here to stay, 
 To cat arid drink, and live awhile, 
 
 But I have torn Us life away. 
 
POEMS. 145 
 
 Too late I now repent the blow, 
 Tis stiff, alas ! and cold as clay ! 
 
 Its life to me it did not owe, 
 And yet I took its life away. 
 
 That Pow r which gave all Nature law, 
 Whose summons we must all obey, 
 
 Gave thee thy vital breath to draw, 
 And yet I took that breath away. 
 
 Whether thou hast a mate to moan, 
 Or offspring dear, ah ! who can say? 
 
 No harm to me thou e er hadst done, 
 And yet I took thy life away. 
 
 What millions do mankind destroy, 
 Of their own race, for pow r or pay ! 
 
 Some would have kept thee for a toy ; 
 But I have toy ? d thy life away. 
 
 And if for this, remorse I feel, 
 
 If conscience sting, ah ! what must they 
 
 Endure, who wide destruction deal, 
 
 And take the life of man away. 
 Oct. 1S08. 
 
 N 
 
346 POEMS. 
 
 TO THE BARD OF PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 JHw has so highly gratified the public ivith a poet 
 ical sarcasm on the " Solar spots." 
 
 Go wond rous creature ! mount where science 
 
 guides, 
 
 Go, measure earth, weigh air, and stem the tides; 
 Instruct the planets in what course to run, 
 Correct old Time, and regulate the sun ! 
 Go, teach ETERNAL WISDOM how to rule, 
 Then drop into thyself, and be a fool. 
 
 POPE. 
 
 GO, impious mortal ! merry make, 
 And place thy deathless soul at stake, 
 
 Against a little fun! 
 With all the pop-guns of thy wit, 
 No other subject couldst thou hit, 
 
 Than spots upon the sun r> 
 
 That glorious orb of light and heat, 
 Why like a foot-ball kick and beat ? 
 
 And with a school-boy caper, 
 Disportive, hurl it all at once, 
 To strike the head of ev ry dunce, 
 
 In ev ry village paper ? 
 
 How durst thou ridicule the cause, 
 Which seems to intercept those laws 
 
 EstablishM at creation ? 
 And with a dull, sarcastic stroke, 
 Heav n s wonders turn into a joke- 
 Ail idiot s admiration? 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Docs not prophetic scripture say, 
 Before the last great judgment day, 
 
 The stars of heav n shall fall? 
 The sun be darkened, awful noorr! 
 At which dread sight, the fainting moon 
 
 Shall lose her lustre all? 
 
 Shall thy presumptuous tongue, or pen, 
 Scoff at those things beyond thy ken 
 
 Or knowledge to unriddle ? 
 Go, prostitute Apollo s lyre, 
 And court the muses to inspire 
 
 Thee how to play the fiddle. 
 
 As once a fox- so fable goes, 
 
 Address d a crow (bards then were crows) 
 
 Her voice and plumage praising, 
 The silly bird, who held her prey 
 "Within her beak, struck up a lay, 
 
 While Reynard stood a gazing 
 
 Down dropp d the prize the flatt rer seiz e* 
 The precious morsel, and well pleas M 
 
 At Mrs. Crow s vexation, 
 Left her this counsel : " Never try 
 With birds of melody to vie, 
 
 But keep m your own station." 
 
is: POEMS: 
 
 LAW. 
 
 Assist ye Furies, while I draw 
 A just similitude of Law, 
 
 I court no other Muses ; 
 Your inspiration answers best, 
 To sing the most confounded pest, 
 
 A mortal ever chuses. 
 
 Law is like longitude, about, 
 Never completely yet found out, 
 
 Though practisVl notwithstanding ; 
 Tis like the fatalist s strange creed, 
 Which justifies a wicked deed, 
 
 While sternly reprimanding. 
 
 Tis like a lott ry, with a prize 
 Less than the ticket cost, how wise-* 
 
 And keen a speculation ! 
 Or like a blank, when all is lost, 
 Time, reputation, debt and cost, 
 
 Th effects of litigation. 
 
 Tis also like a game of chance, 
 (Must pay the fiddler those who dance) 
 
 The gainer is the loser; 
 Tis something like a hornet s nest, 
 Which foolish roguish boys molest. 
 
 But stings a great deal closer. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 ? Tis like a net, constructed so 
 As to allow great rogues to go, 
 
 While petty one? it hampers; 
 J Tis like the clutches of a bear, 
 *Tis like the hounds that chase a hare, - 
 
 Which innocently scampers, 
 
 And finds his rescue in a rave, 
 As many guiltless DEBTORS have, 
 
 From ruthless persecution : 
 J Tis like your humble servant s song. 
 Dull, dry, which you may think too long, - 
 
 And wish far a conclusion. 
 
 -Tis like a thousand other things, 
 
 With tails, and claws, and teeth, and stings/ 
 
 T annoy and overpovrr us, 
 But of all forms it ever took, 
 Laws SAL RY most like Satan lookj 
 
 Aad threaten to devour u=, 
 
150 POEMS. 
 
 " When men of infamy to grandeur soar, 
 
 " They light a torch to show their shame the more.*** 
 
 TOM EAGLE. 
 
 TOM EA.GLE was a man of pelf, 
 
 An artful speculator; 
 "Who money prized, and lov d himself, 
 
 Much more than his Creator ; 
 And shap d his principle! to suit . 
 His purse and passions what a brute ? 
 
 Says he, " although I fear not God, 
 
 " Nor yet regard my neighbor, 
 "No longer will I break the sod 
 
 (For EAGLE hated labor) 
 "No longer clear away the woods, 
 "But cultivate my taste for goods." 
 
 To purchase them, away he goes, 
 
 While many people said it, 
 Although, perhaps, nobody knows, 
 
 His capital was credit; 
 flis credit like a toadstool grew 
 From filth around it which it drew*. 
 
 Clownish, and ignorant, but keen 
 
 To lie or tell a story, 
 He hung, in politics, between 
 
 A democrat and tory ; 
 In every dish he had his spoon, 
 And chang d as often as the moon, 
 
POEMS. 05.1 
 
 By dint of smuggling, knavish v.iles ; 
 
 And dittos oft repeated 
 Cringing and sycophantic smiles, 
 
 And treating those he cheated, 
 Pow r and importance soun began, 
 To raise from dirt the little man. 
 
 Among a harmless flock of geese, 
 
 The fox is often stealing ; 
 EAGLE was made a Justice Peace, 
 
 To gratify his feeling ; 
 FedVal, republican, or quid, 
 As times turn d round, so EAGLE did. 
 
 And thus walk d on through ev ry grade 
 
 Of lucrative promotion ; 
 For offices are public trade, 
 
 And merit but a notion ; 
 While evVy pop lar party tool, 
 Is one or both a knave or fool. 
 
 PERPETUAL MOTION. 
 STR \NGE things in Pennsylvania state, 
 Havehappen d (papers say) of late, 
 
 Amongst the rest a notion, 
 That nature has divulg d her ( a\vs, 
 And gU n the pnr,ip ! > and cause 
 eretuai Motion. 
 
152 POEMS. 
 
 Behold. the great men gravely mei, 
 A Ican/ci and philosophic set 
 
 As ever came together, 
 T inspect old Redheffer s machine, 
 And find the difference between 
 
 A hair-spring and a feather! 
 
 Wond ring what Rcdheffer is at, 
 While long assembled, hear them chat. 
 
 And hum like bees a hiving ; 
 When lo, the crafty knave appears 
 A proposition stuns their ears ! 
 
 Twas what he d been contriving: 
 
 " Choose a committee from among" 
 
 The words were scarcely from his tongue, 
 
 When each one, wildly staring, 
 Bhow d frightful symptoms of chagrin 
 Curs d the vile rogue and his machine, 
 
 And travell d homeward, swearing 
 
 Tvvas all imposture, all a cheat 
 That ?. ( tion yet retaiuM her seat 
 
 In Nature s dark recesses; 
 And had not come, as some suppose, 
 ^Her secret invstYies to disclose, 
 rough Philadelphia presses. 
 
""POEMS. 155 
 
 But let not Redheffer despaic, 
 A thousand people yet there are, 
 
 Who really believe that 
 Perpetual motion is found out - - 
 Devoid of scruple or a doubt, 
 
 And cannot wdl conceive that 
 
 The man should be so great a fool, 
 As thus to introduce a tool, 
 
 "\Vith vast -expense and labor, - 
 Only to make his credit worse 
 For nothing but tofitl his purse, 
 
 And wrong his honest neighbor. 
 
 Credulity, how great thy pow ri 
 Even in this enlightened hour, 
 
 Thy influence is unbounded! 
 .Error successfully may preach, 
 For Truth has lost the use of speech, 
 
 And Reason is confounded. 
 
 A NEW-YEAR S ADDRESS, 
 
 For January \ 1819. 
 TIME with his scythe has mow d away 
 The human race from day today, 
 Crop after crop, year after year, 
 Yet Earth s inhabitants appear 
 O 
 
 
154 POEMS. 
 
 As thoughtless of their destiny- 
 
 Of death, and of eternity, 
 
 "Which soul and body scon must sever, 
 
 As if they were to live forever, 
 
 Of all they ou^ht to love and cherish, 
 
 As stupid as the beasts that perish; 
 
 And so they will be, while they can, 
 
 Whilst life is lent While man is mail 
 
 And since we cannot alter things, 
 As Time no reformation brings ; 
 Since vice and virtue, wrong and right, 
 Are interstrcak d, like black and white 
 Compose the threads of life and tissue, 
 Where none can plead the general issue; 
 Since ev ry man must have his share 
 Of good and evil joy and care ; 
 Since unmixM happiness, we, know, 
 Was never found by man below, 
 J Tis wisdom for us to submit, 
 For all must miss what none can hit, 
 And let the world go as it will, 
 Say to our passions " Peace, be still" 
 
 How many days, and months, and years, 
 Spent in alternate rest and fears, 
 Have pass d are gone ?nd strangely seem 
 A dark, pro;/ f:tic, real dream, 
 That leaves impressions strong and deep, 
 Whenever we awake from sleep ; 
 
tf& 
 
 We shall not linger to recount, 
 Or figure up their full amount, 
 But hasten briefly to pourtray 
 The leading topics of the day, 
 Wishing to all \v!io read or hear, 
 That this may be a happy year. 
 
 Tyrants legitimate may chafe, 
 Oar liberties, thank Il rSn, are safe, 
 And guarded well the nation no*.v is, 
 By vet rans brave, and naval pro\ves;- f 
 But stronger still is her defence, 
 In virtue and intelligence, 
 Which all our happy land pervade, 
 Reach ev ry rank and ev ry grade. 
 
 The allied Sovereigns have adjourned, 
 
 And to their restless thrones return M ; 
 Whose trc-ops have had a merry dance, 
 The fiddler to be paid by France, 
 But whether Bonaparte, DOW sick, 
 (Some think it nothing but a trick,} 
 Is to be left at St. Helena, 
 Doum d to the mines in Csvthagenay 
 Or brought to England for a show, 
 They have not sent to let us kuow ; 
 One truth is ascertained about Mm, 
 e t democrats, can do without iii-m. 
 
156 POEMS. 
 
 Affairs unsettled still remain 
 With pious Ferdinand of Spain j 
 But why, no other reason known i*, 
 Than that the chevalier Don Onis, 
 And Quincy Jldams could not see 
 Why they should differ why agree ; 
 Though Mr. Secretary John 
 Gets much the better of the Dow. 
 
 Some thought that Jackson acted drolly, 
 In rashly taking Pensacola ; 
 Hut our good President Monroe, 
 The measure has approved, you know, 
 And as we nothing had to gain, 
 Has giv n it baek to whiwp ring Spain, 
 
 The Southern Patriots cause sublime, 
 We wish to sing, but have not time ; 
 Successful may their effort* be, 
 For equal rights and liberty. 
 
 Of news domestic, small our share ; 
 We give you all we have to spare 
 Deaths, Marriages, and something farther, 
 With now and then a " Horrid Jlurth-fr." 
 Fires, shipwrecks, storms, a " dreadful gale, *" 
 Sea-Serpents, and " The Real Whale," 
 With thefts and robb ries, more or less.. 
 Are all the tidings we possess. 
 
POEMS. 157 
 
 Now, as the year anew begins, 
 And while you sit and warm your shins, 
 Around your blazing chimney places, 
 Joy painted in your glowing faces, 
 Joy that kind PROVIDENCE attends you, 
 Health, and a copious harvest sends you ; 
 Now as you seize the morning news, 
 Wet like the leaves with summer dews, 
 Or as you light your evening tapers, 
 And haste to read the fresh damp papers, 
 Amidst the cold and sterms of winter, 
 Think on the Newsboy, and the Printer, 
 And never leave them cause to say 
 < We suffer for the want o/ PAY ;" 
 At least while true in your employ. 
 Present a trifle to the BOY. 
 
 From the New -York Statesman. 
 
 [[The following beautiful lines are from the pen of 
 WILLIAM RAY, Esq. of Onondaga, whose poetical 
 effusions have often delighted the public, and whose 
 genius ?.nd taste ought to have secured to him the 
 smiles, instead of the sternest frowns, of fortune.- 
 Few men, or in more emphatic terms, few poets, 
 not even excepting Chatterton and Burns, have 
 witnessed darker scenes of misfortune than Mr. 
 Ray; and his cup of bitterness, although^drained to 
 the dregs, seems not yet exhausted, ft was not 
 enough, that he endured the horrors of slavery in a 
 02 
 
138 POEMS. 
 
 foreign land ; but in the bosom of in c;-;n country, 
 he Isas met with oppressors, whose tender mercies- 
 fire scarcely less cruel, than those \\hidi ho found on" 
 the shores of the Mediterranean. During the reign 
 of proscription, Mi. liay has. with many other good 
 citizens, been deprived of his cilice, \vhich was the 
 only means of supporting a helpless family, and 
 turned adrift upon the world. We have understood 
 he contemplates publishinga small volume of poems j 
 and if he shall conclude to hazard such a publica 
 tion, inauspicious as the times are for an underta 
 king of this sort, we sincerely hope that, many con 
 siderations will ensure to him a liberal subscription.} 
 
 RETURN OF SPRING AND APPROACH OF 
 MAY. 
 
 THE signals of summer appear, 
 The fields and the forests are green, 
 That cherub, the spring of the year, 
 May now in fresh beauty be 
 
 The fair branching fruit trees aspire, 
 To rival each other in charms, 
 And dress in their gayest attire, 
 To win the sweet birds to their arms. 
 
 The birds as if conscious of this, 
 Impartially visit them all, 
 Salute every bough with a kiss, 
 And honor each spray with a calh 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Like Orpheus their music can wove 
 E en groves, in a dance from the ground ; 
 For rocks are made vocal to love, 
 Convey cl in the magic of sound. 
 
 How fragrant the breath of the skies, 
 How mellow the lustre .of day, 
 That breaks from the morning s blue eyes, 
 And glows in the blushes of May. 
 
 And evening so calmly serene, 
 Like age in a holy decline, 
 Seems longing and lingering between 
 Two regions, with fervor divine. 
 
 The lamb, like a juvenile fair, 
 So innocent, thoughtless, and gay, 
 Skips forth to inhale the fresh air, 
 And kiss the young blossoms of May ; 
 
 And oft like the maid is assail M, 
 And ruin d by foes in disguise ; 
 For virtue has seldom prevail d, 
 Assaulted by treachVy and lies. 
 
 The husbandman, seizing his plough, 
 "Walks round in the pride of his might, 
 The drops of his masculine brow, 
 freely as tlews of the eight; 
 
J6d POEMS. 
 
 His home is the center of rest, 
 His heart is the birth -place of joy, 
 All creatures around him are blest, 
 And praise is their sweetest employ 
 
 Each insect, each worm, and each flowV, 
 A God of all goodness adore, 
 Acknowledge his life-giving pow r, 
 And feed on his bountiful store. 
 
 The works of creation unite, 
 To lead up man s soul to the skies; 
 And seasons of rural delight 
 Grve wings for his spirit to rise 
 
 THE CARRIER OF THE PLOUGH BOY TO 
 
 HIS P \TRONS. 
 SONS of labor now at easp, 
 Whom the News-Boy toils to please, 
 Hore he comes with cap in hand 
 Always ready, at command, 
 To regale you with the news, 
 And effusions of the muse, 
 Glad to see you thus appear, 
 Like the dawning of the year, 
 Fresh and glowing, bright and gay/ 
 Oa this happy New -Year s Day, 
 
POEMS.. 
 
 May that happiness remain, 
 Long as time and nature reign, 
 And when both have pass d away, 
 Like this busy fleeting day, 
 Happier still your portion be, 
 Through a long eternity. 
 
 All the toils of summer o er, 
 Peace and plenty round his door. 
 Who on earth so blest and free 
 As the Farmer ? Like the bee, 
 All the sweets of life are his 
 Large and full his cup of bliss 
 "Who can envy thrones to kings, 
 When the PLOUGH such treasure brings- - 
 
 See his works with profit crown d 
 JSarns with hay -stacks huddled round,- 
 Like a family, whom fear 
 Draws within a circle near ; 
 .Stately steeds and cattle neat, 
 Cribs of corn and mows of wheat. 
 Thickly peopled is his fold 
 Harmless sheep and lambs behold. 
 Like the Christian, midst the din 
 Of a noisy world of sin 
 Fowls oviperous cackling round, 
 Pois d with one foot on the ground, 
 Meet their master as he comes, 
 Cluck their wants-and shake their plumes. 
 
162 - POEMS. 
 
 When at midnight all is still, 
 Hear his geese with voices shrill, 
 At the silliest thought of harm, 
 Raise the tocsin of alarm; 
 While fiom all the barn-yards round.. 
 Echoes back the screaming sound. 
 
 See the lofty turkey-cock, 
 Monarch of the feather d flock, 
 Like a haughty potentate, 
 Strutting round the yard of state, 
 Fill d v.itii anger fierce and dread. 
 At the sight of daringTed, 
 Swell d and gobbling as he goes/ 
 Dire destruction on his foes; 
 But, like other tj rants, he 
 Soon will lose his head you*!! sec, 
 
 Ere the morn unlocks her doors/ 
 Whence a stream of day-light pours. 
 Ere the bacchanalian goes 
 From his cups to seek repose, 
 Hear the game-cock s clarion peal, 
 [Breaking sleep s mysterious seal, 
 Like a summons from the skies, 
 Calling mortals to arise ; 
 While each failhiul sentinel 
 Answers lour! thafaH is well.* 
 Ihdust -v obeys the call, 
 Bises, hastens to the stall,- 
 
-POEMS. 163 
 
 And replenishes wit i food 
 All his stock, an-J ;i.i his T;COI! 
 Who around h n,. ^I.Uiyily 
 .To a bountiful st iY Sy. 
 Back the husbandman returns, 
 Where his fire no*.vbr!:k!y burns, 
 Where the partner of hi- joys- 
 Rosy g:rls, and healthful boy, 
 Kneeling with him rourivl the chairs, 
 Send to heaven their -niatin prayers: 
 Thus the year with him begins, 
 Thus the race to heaven he wins. 
 
 -Roast the spare rib, spread the board, 
 WeU can you the feast afford : 
 Call your neighboring plough boys in, 
 Wives and daughters, ail akin; 
 Seated round the parlor stove, 
 Warmer than the heart cf love, 
 Le-t the cider freely flaw, 
 Till your cheeks begin to glow ; 
 Eat and drink, and drink and smoke, 
 Tell fhe story, crack the joke, 
 Keeping temperance still m view, 
 Kever dream of getting blue, 
 For remember Adam fell, 
 As the sacred canons tell, 
 By that fruit whence cider pours, 
 
 Seeds of hell .were in its cores ? 
 
164 POEMS. 
 
 Caution therefore always use, 
 Lest >^uf paradise you lose. 
 Ev ry wiatei scenes like these, 
 f EvVy New-Year s farmer sees. 
 
 Sons of Ceres! soon this day, 
 take myself will pass away, 
 Soon our sands will cease to run, 
 Life must have its setting sun, 
 Death will come and no one spare, 
 Land us all the Lord knows where.: 
 But with Virtue for our guide, 
 And Religion by oar side, 
 Lifted by devotion s flame, 
 Pure as when fron heaven she came, 
 Piety lias nought to dread, 
 From the precincts of the dead; 
 For the close of all things here, 
 Brings an ever-blissful year, 
 .Glory s never-setting sun 
 EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY ONE. 
 Jan, 1/1821. 
 
POEMS. 16 
 
 THE CARRIER S ADDRESS TO THE PA 
 TRONS OF THE N. Y. STATESMAN. 
 
 January 1, 1821. 
 
 DAYS, and hours, and moments fly, 
 Swift as lightning through the sky ; 
 
 And, like arrows, often wound 
 Those who see not whence they came, 
 
 Bring their high hopes to the ground, 
 With a sure and fatal aim; 
 
 Where they flutter, die, and Hide, 
 
 In the tomb of darkness laid. 
 
 But, in quick succession, rise 
 Other suns to light the skies, 
 
 And to mark the speed of TIME 4 
 While creation droops or cheers; 
 
 Glad as morning iu her prime, 
 Breaking from anight of tears, 
 
 Chasing sadness faraway, 
 
 Let us hail tiie NEW-YEAR S 
 
 Sons of plenty, \vhils I oiing 
 Water froa P : Hu- sp i i., 
 
 As you slakf 1 vour thir^i aw - Ie, 
 Let me br -fiv !^pre recount 
 
 What, rer. -lance, may raise a smile, 
 rFigwe up the whole air^m, 
 
 What the year now p:m h-ts dene, 
 
 What expect from T 
 P 
 
a POEMS. 
 
 In the catalogue of names, 
 ENGLAND first attention claims; 
 
 There behold the modest Queen 
 At the bur of trial stand ! 
 
 Was such mock ry ever seen? 
 Such a filthy cause in hand ; 
 
 Judge and culprit on a throne, 
 
 Party, witness, all in one. 
 
 Innocent, or guilty found, 
 True or not, a mortal wound 
 
 Royal George is doom d to feel- 
 Sad confusion and dismay, 
 
 Should his confidants reveal 
 His dark crimes to open day ; 
 
 Revolution s awful flood 
 
 Threats to drench his realm in blood. 
 
 TurnM from this disgusting sight, 
 Next, O Mus?, on RUSSIA light, 
 
 Alexander s vast domain 
 Troops, like dens of lions fierce, 
 
 Grind their teeth on FRANCE and SPAIX- 
 Terror of the universe : 
 
 But the Holy League, they trust, 
 
 Will protect the goed and just. 
 
 Various European powers 
 Seek for liberty like curs, 
 
:.is. icr 
 
 But i . luaSs of II: 
 
 Is not forni d oi vuua! rights; 
 
 Folly stiii retains b 
 Bigot still for bigot fights; 
 
 South Amerir.a, we fear, 
 
 Burs he r gold, too, i*!?; 
 
 But, from Transatlantic shores, 
 Back the muse historic soars, 
 
 And alights, with woary wing, 
 On our national affairs, 
 
 Short the song she has to sing-, 
 Hoarse and ptaintiv.?. in its airs ; 
 
 For the sound of Slav ry s g 
 
 Jars and mingles in its tones. 
 
 Land of freedom in ml of r-lcn cs! 
 State of patriots state of knaves - 
 
 Sticklers for that tr.iHic base, 
 \Vhich degrades the Imir.itR suul-^- 
 
 Wiiich enchains a kindred race, 
 Till their tears in blood-drops roll ; 
 
 Who can hear Jlissoiiri nam d, 
 
 And not feel his blood iLiiaiii d, 
 
 But, while CLINTON holds the reins, 
 Free and sale our slate regains 
 
 Undismay d by foe a \vithin, 
 Or " extraneous influence" 
 
168 POEMS. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the din 
 Of consummate impudence ; 
 Though a set* of wits assails, 
 Famous for their monstrous tales, 
 
 EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY ! we 
 Never more thy face shall see ; 
 
 But thy works of deathless fame, 
 Long as floods through channels flow, 
 
 Wide shall waft a CLINTON S name, 
 Through the universe below ; 
 
 For in this eventful year, 
 
 Fleets on his C AN AL appear ! 
 
 EIGHTEEN HUNDRED TWENTY ONE 1 
 Much in thee too will be do n tv 
 
 Acted many a bloody scene- 
 Many a martyr lose his head; 
 
 For proscription s guillotine 
 Numbers thousands with the dead y 
 
 Let them cut and slush away, 
 
 * Evrry dog must have his day" 
 
 GOD, forever good and kind, 
 Still the same we hope to find 
 
 Yielding plenty, joy and peace ; 
 And though clouds obscure the morn, 
 
 He can bid the tempest cease, 
 Ere the noon-day beam is born ^ 
 
POEMS. 169 
 
 Ere the year half through has run, 
 Give our hopes a brighter sun. 
 
 Party feuds, and public strife, 
 Which embitter private life, 
 
 Let calm Reason shame away 
 Unanimity succeed 
 
 Harmless beasts and beasts of prey, 
 Lamb and wolf together feed : 
 
 All in peace and friendship dwell 
 
 Such my pray ris FARE YOU WELL, 
 
 A NEW-YEAR S ADDRESS, 
 
 For January 1, J8l. 
 
 HEAR the winds of winter blo\r, 
 See a winding sheet of snow 
 O er the face of Nature spread, 
 What an emblem of the dead ! 
 But as SOLOMON the wise, 
 Whose sound precepts all men prize, 
 Hath announc d, though not in rhyme, 
 That for myrth there is a time, 
 Let us, for a moment, take 
 Wisdom s licence merry make, 
 And in reason, though half froze, 
 
 Drink oblivion to our woes. 
 P S 
 
170 FGEM& 
 
 Eighteen hundred twenty- or. e, 
 Glad we hail thy rising sun, 
 And before his glories set, 
 Hope to be more happy yet ; 
 For th invited guests shall bring, 
 To adorn the social ring, 
 Smiling beauty, flush ? d with joy, 
 Chaste, unmingled with alloy 
 Sturdy health, with stomach keen, 
 Well informed what dinners m; . 
 
 Fill your pitchers to the brim, 
 Let your guests in Cider swim, 
 If they choose it, and would wish. 
 Thus to wash down dish on dish ; 
 Or some pure Madeira take, 
 Merely for the stomach s sake ; 
 But for Brandy, Rum, or Gin, 
 Shun them as the gates of sin ; 
 Pain and mis r rj, strife and woe, 
 From thence inevitably fio^.v. 
 
 Now gay evening s chat conies on, 
 Party politics begone! 
 And, at least for one short day, 
 Send all bickering imps away ; 
 Rural sports, and festive joy, 
 Be our innocent employ. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Thus while round the hearth or stov 
 Doub y warm d by fire and love, 
 While the luscious banquet flows, 
 Till the midnight watch-cock crows, 
 Think how wretched millions are, 
 While such blessings freemen share 3 
 Think of England s royal knaves, 
 Vassal Lords, and subject slaves, 
 Whose old gouty King and Queen, 
 Act a most disgraceful scene; 
 Think of Europe s wide domain, 
 Bound in one eternal chain, 
 In a " holy league" combined, 
 To enslave and drag mankind, 
 At the chariot wheels of pow r, 
 For destruction to devour ! 
 Think and bless the Lord who saves 
 Us from being kings or slaves. 
 
 Sons of freedom, plenty, peace ! 
 Till the years of time shall cease, 
 May your happiness remain 
 Union, concord, ever reign ! 
 May the News-Boy always find 
 Brisk employ, and Patrons kind 
 Long as snows of Heav o shall drift, 
 Find a joyful New rears Gift. 
 
If 2- POEMS. 
 
 NEW-YEAR S ADDRESS. 
 
 From the Carrier of the Gazette & Onondaga Ad 
 vertiser, to his Patrons, 
 
 January 1, 1821. 
 OLD Time, with his hand, has conducted along, 
 
 His chaste little daughter in white; 
 Exhorting us all to attend to her song- 
 She sings with enchanting delight. 
 
 She says she has come from the regions on high, 
 Where planets whirl round like a top; 
 
 And that her old father most surely must die, 
 Whenever their motions they stop. 
 
 Om thousand eight-hundred and twenty and one, 
 
 Her stylish long name is below; 
 Her grand -mother Moon, and her grand-father Sun, 
 Her high birth and family show. 
 
 Joy, plenty, and peace, she delights to behold, 
 Her visit shall last till our sphere 
 
 Has sail d round the sun, thro his oceans of gold 
 The full-ending term of a year. 
 
 In rural festivities let us unite, 
 
 And banish all sorrow away, 
 Lay hold of good dinners, with all cur whole might, 
 
 And joyfully wind up the day. 
 
POEMS. 73 
 
 Discordant political sentiments waive, 
 
 Which social hilarity chill, 
 And if a Convention the People must have, 
 
 Submission, I say, to their will. 
 
 Let England s chaste queen, or her boozy old king. 
 
 Of conjugal vows make a breach ;- 
 Legitimate royalty, what a fine thing 
 
 To follow, to practise, or preach. 
 
 Yes, let them alone, it is nothing to us, 
 
 How virtuous or vicious are those ; 
 The question a! me which we now shall discuss.; 
 
 Is, when shall our merriment close. 
 
 Gome fill up the pitcher with cider again. 
 
 And give us another good song ; 
 All hcrrou- and sigMng are fruitless and vain, 
 
 For Providence never do^s wrong. 
 
 Success to the plough, to the loom, to the spade, 
 
 To industry, labor and toil, 
 And may our elections be speedily made 
 
 T embrace ev ry man of the soil. 
 
 And while the poor News-Boy,and Post-rider too, 
 
 Continue their faithful employ, 
 With just expectations they look up to you* 
 
 And wisb you all possible joy. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 May smiling Prosperity always attend 
 Our Patrons, with heart y ^ocd cheer, 
 
 And ne er ^rudtiv a s:;juil boon tea frieiij 
 
 To yield him A 1- /. -} KAH, 
 
 PETITION TO -THE CONVENTION IN BE 
 HALF OF THE LADIES. 
 
 By their friend and counsellor. 
 A HUMBLE bard who ne er before, 
 AddressM a speaker on the floor 
 
 Of capital would mention, 
 Without a quibble or a quirk, 
 What ladies beg may be one work 
 
 Of your wise state convention. 
 
 That ev ry one must have a vote, 
 Who does not wear a petticoat, 
 
 Is generally admitted ; 
 But why should women be denied, 
 And have their tongues completely tied., 
 
 For party broils well fitted. 
 
 The question is of sreat account, 
 Wnich no convention can surmount, 
 
 Without dissatisfaction 
 Amongst the ladies so I fear, 
 And therefore as their friend appear, 
 
 And counsel in this action. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 That -women have a ri^.t to live. 
 Tea could ^ive, 
 
 But: doubted; 
 
 And IK heir freedom haul!;. 
 
 And say they hai no i : fit to talk. 
 
 Would from the world be scouted. 
 
 Th? !Y.r!:s, I know, who hold no polls., 
 Believe that women Live r.c ro i!?; 
 
 ];ut, when l!,ey v.ear the breeches, 
 As oft they do in states like ours, 
 Which give them supernatural powers. 
 
 And hang them up for witches. - 
 
 To say that women must be driven 
 From CVTJ other place but heav u, 
 
 f s certainly alarming ; 
 And he who would the like maintain.; 
 it to be treated with disuuiu, 
 In company so charming. 
 
 is half- woman, at the least, 
 Excepting now and thsn a beast, 
 
 Who 4 forfeits all pretensions 
 To decency arid common sense, 
 By ir.uny a foul and black offence: 
 
 And yet, some state conventions 
 
6 POEMS. 
 
 Have in their wisdom, found it meet 
 To let such wretches step their feet, 
 
 Polluted with infection, 
 Into the sacred fane where lies 
 The ark of all our liberties 
 
 The birthright of election ; 
 
 While women, pure as Eden s queen, 
 Before that world-distressing scene, 
 
 In myst ry darkly hidden, 
 Must stand aloof remaining dumb, 
 And never to elections come 
 
 By haughty man forbidden. 
 
 But you, immortal statesmen, you, 
 Keeping the lovely sex in view 
 
 At your august convention, 
 "Will frame the constitution so 
 That ladies can t election go, 
 
 Without the least detention*; 
 
 For, should you otherwise decree, 
 The direful conseciuorjce iray be 
 
 Diminish \! [>upul?ti(m ; 
 And this Pin authorised to say, 
 If women s rights are iiuug away, 
 
 Is their determination. 
 
POEMS. 
 ELEGY, 
 
 Ox THE D if. ATM OF JAMLS CHAL^CEY MAN 
 
 WE saw iiini on the bed of death, 
 His wailing friends stood near, 
 
 ,\ 2 roan \v :s born at every breath 
 From every eye a tear. 
 
 Damp chills convulsive pangs succeed, 
 
 Till nature* yields the strife, 
 From eyes that weep, and hearts thai bleed, 
 
 Death tears away ins life. 
 
 He s -zone from sickness, pain and wo. 
 
 Where EVERLASTING L^ E 
 Gives, for a wretched world below, 
 
 A world of bliss t-.bove. 
 
 Thus fails before thee, ruthless " king 
 
 Of terrors/" old and young; 
 The jiiirus* blossoms of the spring, 
 
 On ten :r rest stems are hung. 
 
 Snapp d by the vernal breeze they fall, 
 
 They wither, fa.le, a:id ci : e ; 
 Tiie breath of heav n, t:ie iifo of all, 
 
 Is life s expiring sigh. 
 
 A brother of less numberd years, 
 
 A brother sees expire 
 His sisters all su3usM ir, tears 
 
 Put on the black attire. 
 
 Q 
 
irs POEMS. 
 
 But who shall bind the broken heart, 
 Or soothe his parent s grief? 
 
 With children oh, how hard to part! 
 How hard to find relief. 
 
 Philosophy in vain may seek 
 
 An antidote or cure j 
 Tis GOD alone can comfort speak, 
 
 Or know what they endure. 
 
 To Him whene er the mourner flics 
 
 With penitence and pray r, 
 He wipes the tear-drops from his eyes, 
 
 And lights up rapture there. 
 March 16, 1821. 
 
 [The two elegiac poems which follow, were by 
 a mistake in not looking; on both sides of a printed 
 leaf pasted at one end in a book of copy, nearly 
 half omitted in another part of this work pages 
 59 and 74. They are, therefore, to remedy the 
 mistake, printed over again and entire,, as below.] 
 
 To the Memory of Brigadier General ZEBULON 
 MONTGOMERY PIKE, who fdl at the capture of 
 Little York, U. C. Jtpril&T, 1813. 
 IF ever angels, from the blissful skies, 
 
 Look down on mortals, with benignant eyes, 
 
179 
 
 ; Tis when the brave repose in heav n their trust, 
 Whose cause is righteous, and whose views are 
 
 just 
 
 Tis on the hero, who, when duty calls, 
 O er death triumphant, nobly fights and fails ; 
 IF ever grief intrudes on heav nly bliss, 
 Tis when such scenes occur a sight like this ; 
 A scene which cauM our sorrowing hearts to swell, 
 \Vhen Pike, so recently, in battle fell ! 
 
 LovM by all rank?, revert! wherever known., 
 His name a terror to his/oes alone : 
 In whom the virtues all were seen to blend, 
 In war an enemy, in peace a friend ; 
 Offspring of honor, valor s fav rite child, 
 Calm, but cleterminM spirited, but mild ; 
 Stern, though not haughty ; affable, though grave ; 
 Politely resolute, humanely brave; 
 In discipline not cruelly severe ; 
 His soldiers lov ? d him with a filial fear; 
 Prompt to their needs of what to each belongs, 
 Just to their rights attentive to their wrongs; 
 He knew the spirit of the man to save 
 To lead the soldier, not to drive the slave; 
 T infuse that valor, which himself possess d, 
 Through all his ranks in ev ry private s breast. 
 
 In early youth his country ? s arms he bore, 
 When the drear western wilds be traversal o er ; 
 
iso POEMS 1 . 
 
 In early youth he caught the patriot s fia;no, 
 And planted laurels in the field of fame ; 
 The growth luxuriant, subsequently spread, 
 And twin d, as if by instincf, round his head ; 
 Though now in death the warrior s corse lies low, 
 On his moist grave perpetual wreaths shall grow; 
 Year after year rerlourish, and be seen 
 To wear a livelier hue a brighter green. 
 
 When his blest spirit sought those realms on high, 
 Where rest the brave who for their country dii>, 
 Those kindred martyrs who had gone before, 
 All joisiM to hail him to that joyous shore, 
 Where heav nry harps eternal anthems strike, 
 Now mingling in their songs the name of Pike. 
 
 But to his contort, who shall yield relu.f ! ! 
 Could strains elegiac hut retrench thy ^rief, 
 How would the bard his labor d notes prolong, 
 Nay, drink thy sorrows to inspire his song ; 
 Bat c tn this well-meant tribute to his worth, 
 Which friendship dictates, and which truth calls 
 
 forth, 
 
 Perhaps its object shall defeat, and throw 
 A glco . ner aspect on the face of woe ! 
 S . ppin fresh tears the mourner s sab! 3 weoo*, 
 And tear tta bandage from the heart t int b eeds ! 
 Though oft as probing gives the wound relief. 
 So may the sound that waken?, lul! thy : i 
 
POEMS. 181 
 
 And Ihou, fair orphan! may the Pow r above, 
 Compensate, with his own, a fathers love 
 An angel be thy guardian here below, 
 And heav n thy refuge from a world of wo. 
 
 And you, his brave companions in the flight, 
 Whose souls now walk in everlasting light, 
 Long may your widows, friends, and orphans share 
 Their nation s bounty, and their country s care. 
 
 Shade of Montgomery! didst tliou see him fall, 
 "Whose heart, like thine, no dangers could appal ? 
 His name was thine and with thy deathless name. 
 He shar d thy fate, thy spirit and thy fame; 
 Like thine, posterity his deeds shall own, 
 And learn his merits from the speaking stone ; 
 Till man and nature meet their gen ral doom, 
 In one vast ruin one eternal tomb. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 On the Death o/ JOHN HILLIARD, who died Jam 3d, 
 
 1804, in the prison of Tripoli. 
 HILLIARD, of painful life bereft, 
 
 Is now a slave no more; 
 But here no relative has left, 
 Ilia exit to deplore ! 
 
 No parent, no fond brother, stands 
 Around his clav-cokl bed ; 
 *Q 2 
 
182 POEM So 
 
 No wife, with tender, trembling hands. 
 Supports his dying head. 
 
 No sister follows or attends 
 
 His melancholy bier ; 
 Nor from a lover s eye descends 
 
 The soft distilling tear ; 
 
 But foes, and of a barb rous kind, 
 
 Surround him as he diesj 
 A horror to his fainting mind, 
 
 And to his closing eyes. 
 
 What though no monumental stone 
 
 Bespeaks a guilty name, 
 By splendid trophies basely won* 
 
 Damn d to eternal fame | : 
 
 If but an honest heart he bore, 
 
 If virtue s paths he trod, 
 He was, so poets sung of yore, 
 
 " The noblest work of God." 
 
 His fellow -pris ners strove to chee? 
 
 His sad departing soul, 
 And bade the sympathetic tear, 
 
 Jn free profusion roll. 
 
 3Mourn not twas HeavVs all-wise behest, 
 
 And merciful decree, 
 That gave his weary ing sorrows rest, 
 
 And set the captive iree. 
 
EXORDIUM, 
 
 WHAT has been always customary, 
 
 Legal becomes, and necessary ; 
 
 And mongst ten thousand stranger thingsj 
 
 When wonder from a volume rin^s, 
 
 Is that anxiety we show, 
 
 The writer of the book to know ; 
 
 Whether he ignorant or wise is 
 
 A knave, or fool with virtuous vices; 
 
 And hence the practice is to shew ina 
 
 In biographic sketch, or proem ; 
 
 Here follows, then, or Truth s a liar, 
 
 Some pat remarks, if you desire, 
 
 And leisure have to halt and read ? em, 
 
 If not, skip o er, and never heed em. 
 
 That he was born, you \vell may know, 
 For any fool could tell you so ; 
 Of whom, perhaps, you wish to hear, 
 The day, the month, the hour, the year ; 
 All these we very well remember; 
 Twas on the ninth day of December, 
 In seventeen hundred seventy-one, 
 Before the rising of the suii. 
 
184 EXORDllTM . 
 
 And just if you ll believe the story* 
 As chaste, and blushing, fair Aurora 
 Burst the clasp d arms of negro Night, 
 A RAY from darkness peep VI- to light 
 
 His father, wise as most of men, 
 Found out that frve and five made ten ; 
 (But still he taught his docile son 
 That one were three, and three were one) 
 And proved of philosophic lore, 
 The more we know, we know the more; 
 That pain would pain, and pleasure please him 
 That fire would burn, and frost would freeze him j 
 And though he could not name the causes 
 Of planets motions, and their pauses, 
 llejudg d that black could not be white 
 Of course, that darkness must be nights 
 Except when some eclipse befel us, 
 Which by ephem ris he could tell us, 
 All this he knew by perfect rule, 
 Although he never taught a school ; 
 Never, with all his stock of knowledge, 
 Was graduated at a College, 
 Where thousands take their learn d degrees, 
 Jn arts less useful far than these; 
 And yet the son was counted rather 
 More learn d and skilful than his father. 
 
 Now busy Fame and staring Wonder 
 Have nearly burst their orbs asunder, 
 
EXORDIUM. 
 
 And Curiosity stands tip-toe, 
 And Slander s dying, to let slip too, 
 And asks wl.at dung-hill of the earth, 
 Was known by suc i n cr<nrtng k birth ? 
 "While some, yet none but silly asses, 
 V~iil judge it to have been Parnassus. 
 
 In hopes it will not blast the fame of 
 America, he boasts the name of 
 American." Bat/ says the Yankee, 
 " If you will tell me where, I ll thank e; 
 " For sir.ce the country you have told, Sir, 
 " \Vhat place, if I may be so bold, Sir? 
 " For asking questions we are famous, 
 " And strangers, therefore, cannot blame us. 3 
 O, not at all -what you demand, Sir, 
 Prompt as a witness I shall answer. 
 
 Connecticut, to frogs once fatal, 
 Is the same State he calls his natal ; 
 A State which other States surpasses, 
 For pumpkins, jonny-cakes, molasses, 
 Rogues, priests, attorneys, quack-physicians/ 
 BliuMaws, and bho!c-coat politicians, 
 W!:f re many a father s son, aye, plenty, 
 Is father of a son at twenty ; 
 And many a mother s maid has been. 
 A mother made at seventeen; 
 And many more, at twenty-sev n, 
 .Pray taore for husbands than for heav nv 
 
180 EXORDIUM. 
 
 Where people live, while they have breath, 
 
 And die whene er they meet with death. 
 
 Of Litrhfield county s mud and clay, 
 
 Was form d the iiesh of WILLIAM HAY ; 
 
 And Salisbury the very place 
 
 Where first he dar d to shew his face ; 
 
 A county where the feds prevail, 
 
 And Selleck Osborri pin d in jail, 
 
 To prove of martyrdom the fitness, 
 
 By giving to the world a Witness 
 
 That men may Freedom have, and lose her, 
 
 Court, and ived pow-r, and then abuse her. 
 
 Early in life he went to school, 
 To gather wisdom from a fool ; 
 Who, senseless dolt, no reason knew why 
 One had a black, and one a blue eye ; 
 Why some than other men were taller, 
 Had longer noses, or were smaller ; 
 Nor why so many sons of \d,im 
 Had not black skins, while others had cm ; 
 Nor whether that complexion sabio 
 Mark d Cain, for killing brother Abel ; 
 Nor could he tell us, by Addition, 
 How many quacks made one physician; 
 How many pettifoggers, pliant, 
 Made one true lawyer to his client; 
 Plow many prinsts, that cant and whine,, 
 Made one sood orthodox divine ; 
 
EXORDIUM. 187 
 
 How many pray rs there must be giv n, 
 To send one hypocrite to heav n; 
 How many prudes, that fancy no man, 
 Made one chaste, virtuous, honest woman; 
 Nor could he tell, with all his brains, 
 Take pride from alms ar.d what remains ; 
 
 : vet, although h< knew Subtraction, 
 Ta!:e lust from love and leave a fraction; 
 Nor shew us, by Multiplication^ 
 How many scoundrels rule a nation, 
 Whi e many good men, bi-ReJurtion, 
 Are brought to prison and destruction. 
 
 . But. he could shew, by Rule of TUree, 
 As warfare is to butchery, 
 So heroes equal guilt exhibit, 
 To cut-throats, dangling on a gibbet; 
 And prove, from Interest, ; which a fact is,) 
 The just in word are knaves in Practice; 
 By Barter, and by Loss and Gain, 
 How fools Exchange their ease for pain. 
 
 Of Ethics he knew not a little, 
 For he could tell us to a tittle, 
 Though the distinction very nice is, 
 The names of virtues and of vices; 
 That friendship nothing meant but pelf, 
 And Social Love^to love one s Self; 
 
lift KXORDIUM. 
 
 That Truth was made not to be spoken, 
 And vows of Honor to be broken; 
 Thatri-id Justice all detest, 
 A id Jlfr.rcii. pp. v ful to the breast ; 
 That Lore of Country meant the same 
 As Pride, jlmkition, 2 oup, and Fame: 
 That Courage, term it as you will, 
 Was nought but fear that greater ill 
 Would fnilou , if we took to flight, 
 T! an wcet us, if we brav d the fight; 
 T)mt Hanesfy, so much applauded, 
 Ji Ml OunMUHis of their rights defrauded ; 
 Sohiduoii was, so uiarr d and twisted^, 
 He couid uottoll where it existed. 
 And to his knowledge pedagogic, 
 He added all the povv r* of Lv^-ic; 
 For he could prove from reasons strong, 
 That id ur/^- was right, and rig/ii \vas 
 That is, by Pope s " unerring RV t," 
 lie show d " whatever is, is right;" 
 And hence, by reasons full as strong, 
 Whatever is not, is not wrong ; 
 And t\\u$ prQbatum e$t i\ stood. 
 That there is neither bad nor good. - 
 But halt the muse flics quite too fast, 
 And sohie important tilings has past. 
 
 Ere yet he reach d septennial years, 
 .To raise his hopes and calm his fears, 
 
EXORDIUM. 189 
 
 .Hespectieg what some zealots tell, 
 How span -long infants roast in hell, 
 Who into it were luckless hurl d, 
 Before they ever saw the world ; 
 Tv/as found expedient he should know 
 The terras of future bliss or wo. 
 The first was infantile baptism, 
 And then to learn his catechism, 
 -Dug from the Scripture s deepest mines., 
 By Reverend Synod of Divines. 
 In which they taught him to believe, 
 The snake that courted granny Eve, 
 Though like a gentleman, so civil, 
 Was his grim majesty, the D?vil / 
 Who with his tongue took such a grapple, 
 He coax d her to accept an apple , 
 Which she, like any well-bred woman, 
 With her lov d husband shared in common 9 
 And being left to free volition, 
 Brought us inta our e^rsM condition. 
 Yet God himself ordain d the sin, 
 Which could not otherwise have been; 
 That God, from all eternity, 
 By his immutable decree, 
 Elected some of Adam s race, 
 The minions of his partial grace; 
 Inspir d the gospel to believe, 
 
 C.oaipeli d his mercy to receive ; 
 R 
 
190 EXORDIUM. 
 
 From crimes atrocious call d or driv n, 
 And dragg d by violence to heav n ; 
 "While far the greater part remain 
 Predestin d to eternal pain; 
 The objects of his wrath, created 
 On purpose to be reprobated ; 
 MockM by an ineffectual call, 
 And told that grace was offerd all ; 
 Debarr d from ever faith receiving, 
 And damn d at last for not believing;, 
 Like one who spreads a free repast, 
 And calls his servants all to taste, 
 Admits a few to be his brothers, 
 And bolts his door against the others. 
 Then punishes, with ruthles hand, 
 Those who obey d not his command. 
 
 To bring such dogmas reconciled, 
 Would puzzle any common child; 
 He, therefore, while his faith was sprouting, 
 Began to doubt, and still is doubting ; 
 But here he rests, here all his trust is, 
 That God both merciful and just is, 
 And will not plunge our souls in wo, 
 For crimes six thousand years ago. 
 
 In childhood, plumbs, and cakes, and toys, > 
 These constituted half his joys; 
 And buckles, buttons, or a knife, 
 AYere valued dearl v as his life ; 
 
EXORDIUM, 
 
 The mirror poiul, the gurgling rill, 
 "Whereon bo built his little mill; 
 The sling, whence buzz d the pebble missile, 
 The jews-harp, whirligig and whistle: 
 But, lest we weary your attention, 
 AVith things too trilling: now to mention, 
 "With sweetest joys of life we ll class them, 
 And so in fond remembrance pass them, 
 And come to tell you how he acted, 
 As time and years his life protracted. 
 
 In youth the tyranny of passions, 
 And versatility of fashions, 
 Though sober call d, by some, and steady, 
 Made his head whirl till it was giddy ; 
 For pleasure led him such a caper, 
 He thought he could not well escape her; 
 And Happiness, Contentment s daughter, 
 He fancied once that he had caught her; 
 But on a strict examination, 
 Lo ! twas the termagant, Vexation f 
 That, like a Vixen, ever follow d 
 Those pleasures not by temp rance hailowM ; 
 That gaudy clothing, brilliant dances, 
 And love, which all the soul entrances, 
 That vision of a vision, which is 
 A phantom all the world bewitches, 
 To follow in a certain train 
 The path that often ends in paitf, 
 
192 EXORDIUM. 
 
 Was happiness : but ah ! we find 
 5 Tis seated only in the mind, 
 By reason into truth conducted. 
 And sound morality instructed; 
 Arnrd with philosophy t oppose 
 Our passions, worst of all our foes. 
 
 At twenty-two, he entered trade ; 
 But Fortune, that capricious jade, 
 Soon as he mounted on her back, 
 Fled frisking from the beaten track, 
 Took to the woods, through thorn and brigr* 
 And left him sprawling in the mire. 
 "While creditors voracious jaws, 
 Cursing insolvents, and their laws, 
 Yavvn d, frothing like a beast that battles, 
 To swallow all his goods and chattels ; 
 Each swearing he d have what was his n, 
 Or end the debtor s life in prison. 
 In such a just and noble cause, 
 They had the sanction of the laws ; 
 Which give us liberty to seize, 
 And murder debtors, if we please ; 
 For when they nothing have to give, 
 They should not any longer live : 
 So erst the wisdom of the state, 
 Hatch d from some Solon s pond rous pate,. 
 Ordain d that each insolvent debtor, 
 Tc live and pay his debts the better^ 
 
EXORDIUM. 
 
 Should, or might be, forthwith arrested, 
 And creditors with right invested 
 So seize his property, while any, 
 And when he d not another penny. 
 To take his body, sick or well, 
 And drag it to a icorse than hell ; 
 Depriv d of all the joys of life, 
 Perhaps a family and wife, 
 Camelion-like to feed on air, 
 Or worse, on misYy and despair; 
 Without the means or pow r to pay, 
 Much longer than the judgment day, 
 Unless the three-fourth act he take, 
 Or make his fortune with a break ; 
 If not, why let the rascal lie, 
 What is it for a man to die, 
 Who must discharge, sooner or later, 
 The debt he owes to mother Nature? 
 And twill be own d by any dunce, 
 He d better pay them all at once ; 
 For death s a debt we all must pay, 
 Our life s expenses to defray. 
 
 Such is the Sample Candor draws. 
 To shew the mildness of our laws, 
 "Which force men to abscond or fly, 
 Turn swindlers, win prison die; 
 He, therefore, to avoid the times* 
 Embark d to visit foreign climes, 
 R 8 
 
194 EXORDIUM. 
 
 And by experience twill be found 
 That man is man the world around ; 
 Whether in England we behold him, 
 Fawning round tyrants that have sold him,. 
 Licking the hand that chains him tio.vn 
 To bleed for honor and the crown ; 
 Or Ireland, where an opposition 
 To chains and halters is sedition ; 
 (And tis confest that many need e.n, 
 Who anarchy entitle freedom;) 
 Or whether farther we advance, 
 And take a peep at reekingjPra?zcg; 
 Where sanguinary Robespierre 
 Serv d priests as we do poultry here, 
 And thought no more of cutting throats 
 Of men and women, than of slioats ; 
 Where Bonaparte, with flag unfurlM, 
 Spreads carnage o er the trembling world, 
 And conquers kingdoms, states and nation?, 
 Easier than lovers do their passions ; 
 Or Spain, where horrid inquisition 
 Extorts the curse of superstition; 
 Or Portugal, where priests from heav n, 
 To people are as one t eleven ; 
 Whether a Russian Czar he shines, 
 Or labors in Siberian mines; 
 Or pass to JUsia, if you can, 
 Whose God s a corpulent old man.; 
 
EXORDIUM. 
 
 ,)r Africa, where men are bartered 
 For gewgaws, or for market quartered ; 
 Or BarVrifs coast, where dread Bashaws 
 At pleasure make and break their laws ; 
 Where tyranny, with hungry zeal, 
 Devours his thousands at a meal, 
 Yet hopes to rise to heav n s high summit, 
 Through intercession of Mahomet. 
 
 Or whether back again we come, 
 And take a view of things at home ; 
 At Georgia s southern point begin ye, 
 And travel up through, old Virginia ; 
 What s to be seen where people boast 
 Of being friends to freedom most ? 
 
 Behold the lordly planter stand, 
 The lash still reeking in his hand, 
 O er the poor slave, whose only sin is 
 That his, alas! a sable skin is; 
 This gives the wretch, whose hide is white,, 
 To Hay him an undoubted right; 
 From country and his friends compel him, 
 To starve, to murder, or to sell him ; 
 Whose treatment crueller and worse is 3 
 Than that of cattle, swine, or horses ; 
 And e en they often say the slave 
 Has not, like them, a soul to save, 
 
Are you republicans? away ! 
 Tis blasphemy the word to say 
 You talk, of freedom? out for shame! 
 i our lips contaminate the name. 
 How dare you prate ot public good. 
 Your hands besaiear d with human blood? 
 How dare you lift those hands to heav n, 
 And ask or hope to be forgiv n? 
 How dare you breathe the wounded air, 
 That wafts to heav n the negro s pray r? 
 How dare you tread the conscious earth 
 That gave mankind an equal birth? 
 And while you thus inflict the rod, 
 How dare you say there is a God 
 That will, injustice, from the skies/ 
 Hear and revenge his creatures cries ? 
 Slaves to be sold," hark, what a sound f 
 Ye give America a wound, 
 A scar, a stigma of disgrace. 
 Which time nor jou can e er efface; 
 And prove, of nations yet unborn, 
 The curse, the hatred, and the scorn. 
 
 And eke, behold our legislators 
 Receiving bribes, and turning traitors; 
 Our judges, governors, and sages, 
 The Catalines of modern asres % 
 Our clergy, imps of superstition, 
 Blowing the conk-shells of sedition^ 
 
EXORDIUM. 197 
 
 All, all is topsy-turvy whirl d, 
 And vice and folly curse the world ; 
 You therefore may pronounce an oatb 3 
 Our author has a share of both ; 
 And lie s a knave, or lost his senses, 
 Who to perfection makes pretences* 
 
 Yet some there are to whom belong 
 The raptures of the poet s song; 
 Who fiery trials have withstood, 
 And prov d themselves both great and good* 
 Amongst our worthies, count as one, 
 The great, the peerless JEFFERSON. 
 Illustrious Chief! whose wisdom shows 
 The fountain clear, from whence it flows; 
 Whose vast and philosophic mind, 
 Embraces all the human kind 
 Holds to that faith which owns men brothers/ 
 And twenty gods allows to others", 
 While Europe s threat ning postare bore 
 The sword of war, the cup of gore ; 
 Whose ship;? on ours made depredations, 
 And broke the sacred laws of nations ; 
 At home, while discord, feuds, and treason. 
 Late menac d Freedom s life to seize on, 
 His firmness, prudence, and his skill 
 Keep peace and safety with us still ; 
 Columbia triumphs o er her foes, 
 And smiles and blossoms like the rose. 
 
But, tardy Muse, come, trudge along,- 
 And close th 2-- prefatory song. 
 
 Reader, lay prejudice aside, 
 And let calm reason be your guide ; 
 3 fin the following* then, you find 
 Things not so pleasing to your mind, 
 And think them false, why, disbelieve them 
 Errors of weakness ? then forgive them ; : 
 And let our sufPrings and abuses 
 For sev ral/acfs make some excuses ; 
 And when you re capturVl by a Turk,* 
 Sit down, and write a better work, 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 THE AUTHOR S LIFE, &c. 
 
 IN the preceding poetical Exordium, which was 
 written about fifteen years ago, Tor a volume ^en 
 titled the Horrors of Slavery, are contained some 
 accounts of the birth and early pursuits, the sen 
 timents and blasted hopes of the author, if such 
 he may be called, \\ inch need not be repeated in 
 thispUce, aud which, perhaps, ought never to have 
 been published ; as they "have been construed by 
 most readers, as promulgating sentiments involv 
 ing doubts of the authenticity of the Gospel, and 
 detracting from ti-e faith of the Christian Reli 
 gion : and I frankly confess, that at the time the 
 Exordium \vas penned, my mind, for a number of 
 years past, had been s;> bewildered in the mazes 
 of sop sistry which iniulel writers had invented to 
 entrap the young and unwary, as well as to refute 
 the weak and illiterate C -l-ristiun of ail ages; so 
 darkened and confused by the very light which 
 Christiana pretended to walk after, and which led 
 the>n to so many different points ; so shocked and 
 perplexed at the virulent hostility which ^ctu:i-^d 
 one sect in opposing another, arid yet all profes- 
 sifii-; one faith, one Lord, and 011^ bapustn; so 
 starred and confounded \vitlv the conduct of 
 -Chrisrian member?, whicb appeared to belie their 
 
200 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 professions, and ;ave reason to doubt of their sin 
 cerity, t u at I was almost brought to the conclu 
 sion, that the whole system of the Christian Reli 
 gion was a tissue of deception, the offspring of 
 priestcraft, the instrument of tyranny, and the 
 scourge of mankind. But, 
 
 Truth, ever lovely, since the world began, 
 "The foe of tyrants, and tht friend 
 
 at length broke through the glooms of "Doubt, 
 the mother of Dis-nay," and I now no more ques 
 tion the truth of the Gospel, than I do the fact ot 
 my own existence ; and the reason why the Exor 
 dium is retained in this volume is, that it may not in 
 future be adduced to prove my religious tenets, or 
 rather my tenets on religion, as being licentious, 
 and of a dangerous tendency. I am willing, also, 
 to admit what must be obvious to every one who 
 has read the volume following the poetry here spo 
 ken of, that the style, is too high strung, labored, and 
 of course deficient in perspicuity and elegance. 
 But atgreat many errors were committed in print 
 ing, and, words substituted for better ones, without 
 my knowledge or consent. I never read the 
 proof-sheets, and i believe the work was chiefly 
 done by boys, who frequently failed in finding out 
 the. words of the manuscript copy, and often u?s- 
 sed where it was obscure ; making it unintelligible 
 where it was before plain, and contemptible where 
 it was before tolerable. 
 
 Having nearly finished my apologies, I shall pro 
 ceed to give a brief sketch of my life, aruj of my 
 sufferings ainonp; the barbarians of Tripoli ; not 
 flattering myself, however, with ihe idea that my 
 name, my character, my writings, my .sufferings in 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 201 
 
 Tripoli, or any thing that I have done, can be of so 
 great importance to the public as the burning of 
 Moscow, the fall of Bonaparte, or the coronatioa 
 of George the Fourth Neither have I the vanity 
 to expect, that either ray poetry or my biography 
 will attract the attention of Americans like the 
 writings of Lord Byron, Sir Walter Scott, Thom 
 as Moore or Thomas Campbell, Esquires, the least 
 tract of whose lives would be scrambled for and 
 read with avidity, for 
 
 " Wh51e ;lo"g tf:e stream of life their name 
 " Expanded flies and gathers all its fame," 
 
 it cannot be hoped that my little bark shall 
 
 -" Attendant sail, 
 
 " Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale," 
 
 although it should be freighted with all the riches 
 of Mittonian lore, ant! boarded by ail the muses 
 of Parnassus. Without further ceremony, then, I 
 shall introduce myself to the reader s notice for a 
 few minutes only, faithfully promising that if my 
 story is disagreeable, it shall not be long, and that if 
 it should be badly told, L will be because it was 
 not in my power to tell it better. 
 
 As mentioned in the Exordium, I was ushered 
 into this strange world, without my privity or vo 
 lition, in the town of Salisbury, county of Litch- 
 field, and state of Connecticut, in the middle of a 
 very hard winter; in order to show me, I sup 
 pose, that my birth was to be po. lentous of my 
 fate that I should hav^ to experience the cold 
 ness of friendship, t!*e frost of disappointment, and 
 to struggle through the snow-drifts of adversity. 
 S 
 
SKETCH OF THE 
 
 My father was neither rich nor poor, except we 
 apply the saying to him, that "he is rich who owes 
 nothing," for 1 believe he was always pretty clear 
 of debt, and always enjoyed the comforts and con 
 veniences of life, to an extent that forbid murmur 
 ing. But he had a large family, and it was not 
 in his power, as it was not much"in the fashion in 
 those days, to do a great deal more for his children 
 than to give them a common school education, and 
 of course, my early means of instruction were 
 sparingly applied, and my later advantages quite 
 limited. Before I ever went to school, and I think 
 before the alphabet was taught me, iny father, who 
 was a very pious man, and who possessed a most 
 astonishing memory, wishing to exercise and 
 strengthen that of his children, as well as to incul 
 cate sentiments of piety, gave out six of Watts 
 short hymns to each of two, a brother and a sister, 
 older than myself, with a promise that they should 
 have a shilling a-piece, provided they shuild com 
 mit them to memory in a certain given time. 
 When the day of recital arrived, my father was 
 highly gratified to find that my brother and sister 
 had acquitted themselves with a laudable zeal 
 of their several tasks ; and, after paying them the 
 promised reward, turned to me and told me, that [ 
 must make haste and learn to read, so that I could 
 receive the like favor. He was, however, not a 
 little surprised and delighted in being informed 
 that I could repeat the whole twelve hymns ve ba- 
 tim, from hearing them read by others, and when 
 satisfied of the fa of, he gave me as much as both 
 the other two. With this feather in my cap, I 
 inarched oft to school, where I soon outstripped 
 every boy of mv age, and several much older, in 
 the first rudiments of our language. So excellent 
 
AUTHOR S L1F. 05 
 
 a thing is it to encourage children when quite 
 young in the pursuit of applause, by stimulating 
 their minds to exertion, with the tempting pros 
 pect of reward and honor. Emulation seldom fails 
 of attaining its objects, whHe tor> much severity 
 often crushes genius hi the bud. My first teach 
 er was a gentleman of rare qualifications for such 
 a calling. He united the most mild and engaging 
 manners, with the most inflexible authority, ami 
 never was there a more complete adept in the art 
 of physiognomy, or one better skilled in detecting 
 the latent propensities of his pupils than he was. 
 He never inflicted punishment where it was not 
 justly due, and no one ever escaped who stubbornly 
 persisted in disobedience. I cannot but believe, 
 that it is of far greater consequence to have our 
 children committed to the care of teachers in their 
 infancy, who are capable of governing them rightly, 
 and teaching them correctly, than most people are 
 willing to allow. Many a promising urchin who 
 has been ruined and made a dunce of, by the un 
 reasonable harshness, or stupid insensibility of his 
 tyrannizing master, might be cited to bear testimo 
 ny to the truth of the position here laid down. 
 under the teacher whom 1 l>ave }ust mentioned, 
 the children made a most rapid progress ; and un 
 der another one who succeeded him, and who \vas 
 exacily the reverse, they made no proficiency at 
 all. except in mischief and play. I did not go to 
 the latter long ; for my father was about to re 
 move from the place. I remained at this school 
 until about eight years of age, by which time, very 
 few boys of my age, could pass a better examina 
 tion in the common branches of learning, that* I 
 could. Hitherto had I seen nothing bat the sun 
 shine of prosperity nothing but unclouded happi 
 ne&s. 
 
204 SKETCH OF TRE 
 
 The bright morning of my life began to be sha 
 ded Death, appalling death, laid his hands upon 
 a little sister of mine, next younger than myself, 
 and dragged her from my sight. I was so passion 
 ately fond of her, tnat the separation was like "di 
 viding the joints and marrow." For several years 
 afterwards, I never went to sleep at night, withr 
 out paying to her memory the sacrifice of tears, and 
 I can truly say,, that as this was my beginning of 
 sorrow, so wa& it the deepest wound that my heart 
 ever received. Nearly the same time, my sensi 
 bility received another severe shock. There lived 
 a little girl in the neighborhood, the daughter of a 
 widow, an only child, about my age, and with 
 whom many a playful hour had passed, still re 
 membered with delight mingled with sorrow at 
 the catastrophe. One evening after school, as we 
 were acting our childish gambols in a chamber 
 which had no bannisters round the top of the 
 stairs, she fell backwards from the top to the boS- 
 tom, and pitching on her head against the end of 
 a whippletree, fractured her skuSl in such a man 
 ner as to cause her death the same night. I at 
 tended her funeral the next afternoon, and mourn 
 ed her fete as deeply sincere, as ever a lover did 
 that of his mistress. It was in the fall of the year, 
 and I shall never forget the plaintive and melan 
 choly cry of th& crickets at evening, which seemed 
 to echo her name, and bewail with me the sudden 
 stroke of death. Time has not been able to obli 
 terate the impressions, and to this day, whenever 
 I hear the son< of the cricket, it invariably reminds 
 me of poor little Anna. These things may appear 
 trifling and childish j but her death is of as much 
 account in. the eyes of heaven, as if she were a 
 Princess; and I have as good a right to cherish 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. *OJ 
 
 the remembrance of my early attachments, and to 
 relate them too, as if I were the Prince of Wales. 
 The only difference is, their relations would proba 
 bly be read with the most eagerness. I had al 
 most forgotten to remark, that by this time, the 
 Muses began to whisper in my ear that I was one 
 of their favorites by nature, and must permit them 
 to conduct me to the Heliconian fount, and give 
 me a sip of inspiration. They furnished me with 
 a pair of wings; and the first eftart which 1 made 
 to use them, was directed to a funeral song on my 
 favorite little Anna; and as I have since become 
 a great poet, if not a good one, it may be well 
 enoagh to give a specimen of my first attempt. 
 The following, 1 believe, is a faithful copy, writ 
 ten when I was abuut ten years old : * 
 
 Poor Anna, she is dead and gone, 
 
 I saw her life depart ; 
 She s left a mother all alone 
 
 Twill break her tender heart. 
 A Savior answers, " < ease to weep ; 
 - She is not dead, but gone to sleep." 
 
 I saw her spotless soul arise 
 Through yonder stars of even, 
 
 Led on by angels of the skies, 
 And welcom d into heaven ; 
 
 Yet when 1 woke and saw her shroud, 
 
 I could not help but weep aloud. 
 
 Since revised a::cl corrected. 
 
 S 2 
 
296 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 And is it sinful thus to weep? 
 
 My conscience answers, no; 
 When wounds of sorrow are so deep, 
 
 Tears must have room to flow ; 
 And who can hear the rumbling clod 
 Fall on her coliin, Oh ! my God ! 
 
 And not a shivering horror feel, 
 
 At such a death-like sound ! 
 . The grave is fillM, and set the seal ; 
 
 Lie soft, ye hallowM ground ; 
 Long shall the weeds that on you grow, 
 Be nourished by the tears of wo. 
 
 It is true the minister of the parish pointed out 
 some faults, and suggested amendments, in the 
 first copy, which was accordingly corrected ; but 
 he pronounced it to be a wonderful production for 
 a boy like me, and said he did not doubt, that with, 
 the same advantages, 1 might yet make as great a 
 poet as Doctor Watts. It is needless to say that 
 the flattering compliments which were paid me 
 ibr this juvenile monody, raised my ambition to 
 the highest pitch, and almost made me forget the 
 sorrows which I felt at Anna s death, in listening 
 to the plaudits which I received from her friends 
 and others for writing her elegy. But adieu, ye 
 painful, blissful recollections 1 
 
 Shortly after this, my father sold his property 
 in Connecticut, and removed to the state ot New- 
 York, on a farm comparatively new ; where I was 
 literally buried in the woods for several years, 
 without much chance of gratifying my passion for 
 classical studies. My fattier, however, was a man 
 of extensive reading, and had something of a col 
 lection ot" books, whose contents 1 devoured with 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE, 
 
 ; voracity never satiated. The first teacher which 
 I was sent to, in this wooden country, was an old 
 Englishman, as captious and despotic as he was il 
 liberal and impotent. He was I believe about six 
 ty, quite lame, and very corpulent. As he flog 
 ged the boys frequently for less than nothing, they 
 in turn tormented him without reason, and avoid 
 ed his lash without much difficulty. It was lu 
 dicrous enough to witness the scenes which were 
 daily acted in the school, 
 
 " Fuli well the boding trembl rs learn d lo trace 
 " The day s disasters in his morning face ;" 
 
 and the old man might pretty well judge of his 
 day s peace, on taking: his seat in the morning, 
 when he found in the bottom of the chair a dozen 
 ianie pins fixed point upwards, for the reception 
 of the venerable pedagogue. In such a case, ha 
 would fly at every one in the school, belaboring 
 every one he could-reach , with his crutch or his rod, 
 without discrimination or mercy ; and the only 
 way was to leave the house, and keep out of hfs 
 way until he became pacified. The next manceu- 
 vre would be to snatch the chair from under him 
 when going to sit down ; which would brin^ him 
 to the floor with a tremendous noie ; and whence 
 he found it quite difficult to raise himself, without 
 assistance, being very heavy, and crippled wit al. 
 ~No sooner was the old man up and well seated 
 again, than some dingy ro^ue would snatch off his 
 wig behind him, and another battle would ensue. 
 One time the mischievous school boys contrived it 
 so, after a severe flowing, as to revenge themselves 
 to their full satisfaction. The ui.der floor ot the 
 school -house was not fastened down there were 
 several short boards, and something of a hole or 
 
208 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 cellar underneath, where the water was abouta foot 
 elerp, and it was cold weather, late in the fall. - 
 They fixed the boards in such a manner with his 
 chair set on them, as Ihe moment he sat down, they 
 gave wny, and the old man fell full souse into the 
 hole below, water, mud and all. For my part, I 
 was most horribly frightened, and really thought the 
 luckless knight of the ferula had broken his neck. 
 But, anon, such horrid imprecations issued from the 
 regions below, as convinced me at once, that his 
 breath was not stopped yet. Some of the stoutest 
 boys dragged the old man out of the hole, all mud 
 and water, with his wig gone, and half dead with 
 the fall. This was made up, and the next prank 
 they played with him, was : four of his largest pu 
 pils, it being war-time, dressed themselves like In 
 dians and way-laid him in a piece of woods which 
 he had to pass, with muskets charged with powder. 
 Thus prepared, they rose upon him with a horrid 
 yell, discharged their pieces and pursued him 
 which frightened him so that he hobbled for half a 
 mile through the woods, with all his might, crying 
 murder at % every step This was the last scene in 
 the great drama. The poor old man never attempt 
 ed to keep school another day in that place. 
 
 We now removed a few miles to a neighborhood 
 of better society, and on a farm much more impro 
 ved ; where there was a tolerably good school for 
 those times ; but I never found a teacher but that 
 I could run down in a very short time; so that 
 books were my best dependence, and my own ex 
 ertions all my support I got hold of Milton s 
 Paradise Lost, which I read frequently till after 
 midnight, and committed the whole of the three 
 first books to memory ; together with a considera 
 ble part of all the rest; particularly the eighth 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 209 
 
 and ninth. I was so struck with the awful grati- 
 deur of that immortal bard, that I really thought 
 him some celestial being; and so enraptured with 
 the explanation which he gives, in the third book, 
 of the doctrine concerning free grace, arid salva 
 tion made possible to all, iu contradistinction to 
 the tenets of Calvinism, which I found irrecon 
 cilable to my ideas of the justice and goodness of 
 a Being who had taught me in his holy word to 
 call him by the endearing, name of Father, that, 
 next to the sacred scriptures, I have always es 
 teemed Paradise Lost as one of the best treasures 
 of wisdom ever given to the world, independently 
 of the transcendant sublimity and richness of the 
 poetry. The passage which I allude to, in the 
 third book, is where the Father is addressing the 
 Son on the subject of the revolt of the angels, and 
 of the fall of man, he says 
 
 -They themselves decreed 
 
 Their own revolt, rot I ; if I foreknew, 
 
 Foreko<~ wled ^e had no i-fluenre on their fall, 
 
 Which had no less p-rovd certain unforeknown. 
 
 Sf, without ieasi impulse, or ^h^lowot fate, 
 
 Of ?.ught by me immutably foreseen, 
 
 They trespass, airhors to themselves in all, 
 
 Both what they judge a;-d what they choose; for sa 
 
 I form d them free, and free they mu$t remain 
 
 Till^they inthral themselves ; 1 else n list change 
 
 The^r nature, and revoke thehl^h decree 
 
 Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain d 
 
 Their freedom,- THEY THEMSELVES ORDAIN D 
 
 THEIR FALL. 
 
 This I deemed a triumphant acquisition ; for I 
 not only had, as I thought, the Bible on my side, 
 but the great, the peerless Milton also who had 
 

 10 SKETCH OS? THE 
 
 so clearly expounded the mysterious doctrine oF 
 predestination, and so completely 
 
 11 Justified the ways of GotI to man." 
 
 The Methodists now began to appear, and I went 
 to hear one of their most distinguished preacher*. 
 He \vas a very eloquent man ; and com batted the 
 dogmas of Calvinism with ingenuity, and with 
 arguments from scripture, which L considered un 
 answerable. 1 was quite enraptured with his dis^ 
 course, and almost overpowered by the thunder of 
 his eloquence. He read and sung these words- 
 
 " Cone tinners to the Gospel feast, 
 I.,et cv rv tout b^ Jesus fyuest ; 
 Ye need not one he left bcliinJ, 
 For God hath bidden all max&ir.d." 
 
 This sermon and the whole performance, was 
 so different from what I had been wont to hear; 
 so much more consonant to my ic eas of the char 
 acter and attributes of Eternal Love, contrasted 
 with the character of the Almighty, represented 
 as bearing eternal hatred to the reprobates, who 
 are, as Mr. Wesley says, " damned for not believ 
 ing a lie," and consigned to everlasting punish 
 ment for fulfilling the decrees of their Maker, 
 that I felt joy unspeakable. I hope, however, 
 that many a pious Christian who assents to these 
 horrid tenets, does it without considering their 
 tendency, as involving the brightest perfections of 
 Deity in the inevitable charge of cruelty and in 
 justice. 
 
 The next author which t read, with remembered 
 delight, was Doctor Young. The deep-toned mel 
 ody of his numbers his bold figures* and bolder 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 11 
 
 apostrophe his striking antitheses and -brilliant 
 ihi u s of genius bis pathetic mourning over de 
 parted friendship his caustic satire on folly, and 
 tremendous broadsides of raillery at infidelity and 
 vice, were read by me with deep interest, while 
 Yuung, and many of his sparkling images, are yet 
 bright to my recollection. 
 
 " Tbtn tuneful Pope, whom H the K;ne inspire, 
 With Sapphic swetiKOs* ?.-d Pindaric tire, 
 J uinei- o: vere nii i.uliotisatid mvine, 
 Next Young ;md ^iituu shall distinguish* 1 slanc. 
 
 Pope s Essay on Man [ committed to memory 
 before I was aware of it, and Uefore I was twelve 
 years old, I now and then began to flap my wings, 
 and try experiments in rhyme. Butlers Hudi- 
 bras fell into my hands, and I was much pleased 
 with his wit, as well as with the measure of his po 
 etry. Him I tried to imitate, thinking it easier to 
 assimilate to his method, than any other. Ett the 
 first attempt^wliich I made in this new armor, liked 
 to have cost me a severe drubbing, if nothing more. 
 There was an old widow in the neighborhood) who 
 had married an officer just from the army, a mere 
 fortune-hunter, who wanted nothing of the old 
 woman but the handling of her property, and 
 when he found out there was not much to be ex 
 pected from her but flesh and bones, he grew in 
 tolerably cross, and used to flog the poor old crea 
 ture at every pretext which he could invent, in or 
 der to extort from her "better picking an oi.g the 
 crumbs. 5 He finally turned out to be a most in 
 famous villain in every respec* quarrelsome and 
 abusive to his neighbors dissipated and worth 
 less on every account hated and despised by eve 
 ry body. It was none of my business to meddle 
 
312 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 with him, however, as he did not disturb me ; but 
 I bad the vanity to think that 1 could raise the 
 laugh a<rainst him, and gain some applause among 
 the neighbors by lashing hi TI in doggerels ; which, 
 as they ct>st me a good deal of trouble, 1 have nev 
 er forgotten to this day. They were as follows : 
 
 There lives a man whose heart is dross, 
 Who, though no papist, bears a cross 
 In ev ry look hell in his features 
 The most detestable of creatures. 
 In war he held a low position, 
 And now in crimes a high commission; 
 Still fond of bloodshed and of battle, 
 He fights his neighbors kills their cattle; 
 And further to prolong the strife, 
 Flogs his own flesh aud bones his wife. 
 
 What shall be done to such a hero, 
 As base and cruel as a Nero? 
 What shall be done to such a wretch, 
 Except the villain s neck you stretch, 
 But when again the storm he gathers, 
 To clothe him with a coat of feathers j 
 Unlike the one he wore in war, 
 Of tissued cloth but made of far: 
 Or, should this mild expedient fail, 
 Then try the virtues of a rail. 
 
 By some means or other, the O d man got sight 
 of these lines, and found out who wrote them. He 
 swore vengeance ; and from that time until he ran a- 
 way, which was about six months aft PI wards, I avoid 
 ed hii i as I would a tiger; often ju.nping over the 
 fences and running across lots, when likely to meet 
 him. The fact is, I was almost constant! v" afraid of 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 3T3 
 
 losing my life, lor I knew him to be as revengeful 
 as an Indian. Thus I paid pretty dear for ir.y 
 whistle. When about sixteen, I got myself into -a 
 literary squabble. There was an old gentleman 
 who rode post, and brought us the papers ; a pro 
 per old fanatic in religion, who fancied himself oc 
 casionally inspired, and published a pamphlet enti 
 tled " The Aiann to the World;" making use of 
 the three frogs mentioned in the 16th Chapter of 
 Revelations. 1 should not have disturbed the old 
 lunatic, if he had not attacked the raethodists; but 
 his doing so called forth my resentment, for I lov 
 ed their doctrine, although 1 could not approve of 
 their enthusiasm ; and it was their doctrine which 
 he made the point of his assault. I wrote a long 
 string of bombastic rhymes, and sent the communi 
 cation to the printer by the old man himself, who 
 su ppressed their publication, and sent me a long po 
 etical epistle without rhyme or reason in answer, to 
 which I returned a short reply and heard no more 
 of it. My first piece began and ended in the adop 
 ted language of the old saint himself, turned iatc 
 verse. 
 
 Descend from heav n, ye sparks divine, 
 On this old crazy pate of mine, 
 And I shall utter greater wonders 
 Than ever broke from fourteen thunders. 
 And more alarm the drowsy world, 
 Than all the bolts they ever hurl d. 
 
 In sixteenth chapter Revelations, 
 A bonk perplexing to all miti <n>*, 
 Till by the light of mv old brain, 
 It* darkest doubts are rendered plain, 
 Three frogs are mentioned but for 
 "T 
 
jji4 SKETCH OF THfc 
 
 No one can tell on earth but I : 
 Brim-full of holy inspiration, 
 I here pour out my explanation. 
 Beginning, then, at frog the first, 
 By far the greatest and the worst, 
 And giving all my learning scope, 
 I take this frog to be the Pope ; 
 Of noise and pride a windy full frog, 
 In other words, a monstrous bull-frog; 
 Such as in Windham tun d their breath, 
 /\nd scar d the people half to death. 
 The second frog my witticism 
 Pronounces to be methodism ; 
 A thing my righteous soul abhors. 
 As bad as Satan does and worse; 
 It takes away our reprobation, 
 And offers ev ry one salvation 
 Makes God impartial, just and pure, 
 But leaves the devil insecure ; 
 "While unconditional election, 
 Builds up his kingdom to perfection, - 
 The choice of reprobates controls, 
 Long since decided at the polls, 
 He has a mortgage on their souls. 
 
 Now frog the last, though not the least, 
 
 I judge to be a Baptist priest, 
 
 Who ev ry body knows is fond 
 
 Of diving in a brook or pond, 
 
 The very element of frogs: 
 
 The cmfdren s bread he throws to dogs, 
 
 Denies the infant soap and suds 
 
 To wasii his little dirty duds, 
 
 By sin original deep stain d, 
 
 As Saybrook Platform has ordainM : 
 
AU niOR S LIFE, 21 J 
 
 While I more charitably hold, 
 Infants are UaiuuM as \vell as old. 
 
 This is not half of what I wrote ; but this is e- 
 nough to show witii what spirit I wrote it. The 
 truth is, the ok! man s pamphlet was not worth no 
 ticing, and ought not to have been either read or 
 burlesqued. 
 
 When about nineteen, I went to reside in 
 Dover, county of Dutchess, where I took a school/ 
 just vacated by Zebulon R. Shipherd, now 
 a distinguished lawyer in the county of Washing 
 ton, and where I remained about two years, con 
 stantly attending the Methodist meetings for 
 about a year, when I found that there were a 
 reat many among them whose private characters 
 \vereirifumous, while they were pretending to ab 
 solute perfection. I began to doubt quit them, 
 and was wretched. I would advise no man ever to 
 forsake any religious society to which he feels him 
 self attached by principle, on account of the un- 
 wort hi ness of some of its members. It commonly 
 ends in a disregard for all religious societies, and 
 consequently in ruin and misery. While living 
 here, and pursuing my studies at intervals of bu 
 siness with unabating ardor, I wrote a piece of 
 poetry on the return of spring, which attracted 
 some notice, and 1 had to give a number of copies 
 to different friends, one of which was written the 
 January following, and was dated at the bottom 
 the day of that month in which the copy was 
 made. A brother pedagogue in the vicinity, who 
 had received the advantages of a liberal education, 
 and made some pretensions to poetry himself, hap 
 pened to get hold of this copy, and undertook to 
 ridicule me for the blunder I had made in the 
 date of my poem. He sent me a poetical ehM- 
 
216 SKETCH OF THK 
 
 fenge, as illiberal as il was abusive; for he 
 at least ten years older than myself, had enjoyed su 
 perior advantages, and was actually under obli 
 gations to me, which none but an ingrate would 
 have disregarded. He must have known, too, 
 that there was no real blunder in the piece, whicli 
 described the scenery and the birds of Spring ; 
 even the heading it with the word spring, was 
 sufficient to show when it was composed. He, 
 however, addressed his piece," To the Bard 
 who described spring on the 4th of January/ and 
 says in one part of it, 
 
 u The crow, the snow-bird, and the jay, 
 "Are all the birds that sing this way." 
 
 I was so provoked at his unmannerly and ungen 
 erous attack, that my only object was to retaliate, 
 and make him feel my resentment. He had some 
 sore spots on his character, and these 1 endeavor 
 ed to hit, not much caring whether the poetry 
 were good or bad. I wrote quite a long string of 
 verses, which it is not worth while to repeat, end- 
 ins in this manner : 
 
 o 
 
 Before I close my epic poem, 
 
 I ll mark the Bard that all may know ? im : 
 
 He s branded on the forehead high, 
 
 With letters plain to ev ry eye : 
 
 M stands for monkey, mole, and mule, 
 
 I for an Indian, T for tool ; 
 
 C means a coxcomb, coward, cog ; 
 
 II hanging, hen-roost, hawk, and hog ; 
 
 E stands for envy, ever evil, 
 
 And L concludes the name - of Devil. 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 217 
 
 He broke the close of sense, of reason, 
 
 A. id srray d away -in Winter season; 
 
 Whoever will return said bard, 
 .Shall have a reasonable reward. 
 
 These lines, though not very poetical, stung 
 him to the quick. I had the advantage of 
 him in one respect ; my character was fair, and 
 his was vulnerable. He could say nothing ill of 
 me, except he lied. I could say much of him and 
 speak the truth. He, however, replied to my dit 
 ty in a full sheet of lofty rhymes. I shall only 
 give the introduction as a specimen: 
 
 From Helicon descend, ye heavenly Nine, 
 Who claim your births and origin divine ; 
 Who raisM sublimely sightless Milton s mind, 
 To soar above and leave this globe behind ; 
 To storm Heav n s ramparts, scan th eternal 
 
 plains, 
 Where angels fought, pull d hair, and beat out 
 
 brains ; 
 
 Not these dread scenes, nor those which Ho 
 mer view d, 
 
 Of warring men, of battle, and of blood, 
 Are fit to vie with what 1*11 soon relate, 
 Nor all the events of past or future fate, 
 Afford a theme so weighty, so divine, 
 v_ So mighty wonderful as this of mine. 
 
 Now let the muse what she foresees declare, 
 And soon, depend, I ll make all D -ver stare; 
 I ll lift his fame to strike the highest star, 
 His deeds, which far transcend all feats of war, 
 Shall in my numbers live to latest time, 
 And bloom and flourish in immortal rhyme. 
 
 T 3 
 
518 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 This flaming poem went off in a quip. It was 
 
 " Like a tale told by an ideot; lull of 
 "Soumi and fury, signifying nothing." 
 
 I wrote a short reply, which I have entirely for 
 gotten, and have never heard what has become of 
 him since. 
 
 1 now entered upon a new scene ; went to live 
 as a clerk in a store ; took the small pox the natu 
 ral way, and came very near losing my life. la 
 1792, 1 entered into the mercantile business in 
 partnership with another, with fair prospects of do 
 ing well : Bat an embargo being laid the year af 
 ter, when we had a considerable quantity of pro 
 duce on hand, for which we had paid a high price, 
 this circumstance sowed the seeds of all my future 
 calamities ; for although we continued business for 
 two or three j ears afterwards, in hopes of finally re 
 trieving the losses which we had sustained, in be 
 ing compelled to dispose of tur produce at a great 
 sacrifice, in order to make remittances, so as to 
 keep business going on, yet we were never able 
 to surmount the difficulties which this first shock 
 brought upon us, and we ultimately had to fail. 
 Knowing for myself that my intentions had been 
 perfectly honest, I did not doubt but that our credi 
 tors would act like reasonable men, and either, 
 compromise on taking all, give a letter of licence, 
 or sign a petition for a discharge under the insol 
 vent act. But they would do neither; and the 
 consequences were, I was kept under the harrow 
 eternally afterwards. Their pretext was, that 
 my partner had conducted very improperly, which 
 was in fact the case, and they would not release 
 me, even if I should paj one half the demands. 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE 21.S 
 
 Like Tray in the fable, I had to suffer for being 
 found in bad company. For five or six years, I 
 was constantly harassed by creditors, while my 
 partner, who had in a great measure been the ulti 
 mate if not the primary cause of my embarrass 
 ments, slipped his neck out of the toils by going 
 oft to Canada, and leaving me to bear the burthen 
 alone. In the mean time, I had contracted matri 
 mony, which was a very imprudent step at such a 
 time. I tried various expedients to get a living, 
 and disengage myself from the thraldom of insol 
 vency; but all to no purpose. Fortune frowned 
 upon me in every enterprize, and I was driven to 
 almost absolute distraction. My mind had been 
 greatly agitated on religious subjects: I had read 
 Voltaire. Paine s Age of Reason, and Volney s 
 "Ruins; which, all together, liked to have ruined 
 me. I beg^ii to think indeed, that truth lay in 
 the bottom of a well, too deep for common minds 
 to fathom ; that the Christian Religion was like all 
 others, the instrument which power used to subdue 
 resistance, either by force or by persuasion ; and 
 that mankind in general were half fools, and half 
 demons. In such circumstances, and with such a 
 view of things, it was not only sure that I must be 
 wretched, but impossible that I should be other 
 wise. The soul cannot be forever on the wing 
 any more than the bird of paradise, or Noah s dove. 
 It must have a resting place, and mine had none. 
 Tossed by the storms of adversity, and lost in the 
 darkness of skepticism, it knew not where to 
 steer, and saw riot whereto light. The floods of 
 affliction had not yet subsided ; there was no ark 
 of safety, and I had no where to set the sole of my 
 foot. I shall not pretend to justify all my con 
 duct during this reign of trouble. Strange if I 
 
SO SKETCH OF THE 
 
 should not have gone into excesses strange that I" 
 commit ted no more. For a long time 1 had not 
 paid any attention to the muses, and like other 
 coy ladies, to be won they must be caressed. 
 There was a young coxcomb in the place whom I 
 had rather slighted, as I always did that class of 
 two-footed animals, and to revenge himself he sent 
 me a copy of very flat verses, headed with " 1 ride 
 will have a fait? and meanly reflecting on my 
 comparative situation. To which I returned ih*v 
 folio wings 
 
 To MR. - 
 
 In ignorance you lie, secure from all, 
 For he who never rose, can 
 
 I late receiv d your lines with pleasure, 
 Perus d them o er and o er at leisure ; 
 Coincident with your command, sir, 
 I take nr.y pen to* write an answer: 
 But oh ! how vain for me to strive 
 At such perfection to arrive! 
 Vain as twould be for me to think 
 To blot the sun with per. and ink, 
 To call the stars by name and number, 
 To raise the dead from soundest slurabei, 
 To conjure spiritsgood or evil, 
 Or e en to raise the very devil. 
 
 But since you ve made an introduction* 
 Pray sir, continue your instruction ; 
 Without the smallest doubt or scruple, 
 I soon shall make a forward pupil ; 
 Shall, like yourself, in arts excel, 
 And learn to read and write and spell ^ 
 I ll try ; nor think in vaia my hope, 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 221 
 
 To equal Milton, Waits or Pope ; 
 Like Hudibras, I ll make all jingle, 
 And challenge Horace and M Fingal ; 
 Still strive in vain to beat your copy- 
 Then throw my pen and ink to Joppa, 
 
 In 1803, still struggling with misfortunes too 
 painful to recapitulate, I started in the spring to 
 make one effort more for amending my broken con 
 dition ; and wandering in a southern direction, 
 "seeking rest, and finding none," having lost my 
 horse on the way by sickness, and after having 
 been arrested in my journey by a fever, which con 
 fined me to my bed for a considerable time, and 
 nearly drained my pockets of cash, I arrived at 
 Philadelphia, where I had a flattering prospect of 
 finding a situation as an Editor, at thirty dollars a 
 month ; but I had been so long in reaching there, 
 from causes just mentioned, that another man was 
 employed, and of course I lost the birth. My pe 
 cuniary means were totally exhausted among 
 strangers too high-spirited to let my actual situa 
 tion be known too proud to ask charity, and too 
 honest to steal or rob ; in a paroxysm of half des 
 pair and half insanity, I entered onboard the ill- 
 fated U. S. frigate Philadelphia, then lying; in the 
 Delaware, in a low capacity, without either inqui 
 ring or caring where she was bound ; determined 
 to tight my way to belter times, or perish in the 
 attempt no matter which. It was the 3d day of 
 July, 1803, when I went on board : every thing 
 was in confusion, the ship preparing for sea with, 
 all possible dispatch, and my fare for several days 
 gave me some reason to think that a man of war 
 was no placp to find repose. As I then wrote 
 rvhat was adjudged to be an excellent hand,- which 
 
SKETCH OF THE 
 
 was soon found out by the officers, and conducting 
 my self with circumspection, it was not long be 
 fore I was noticed and taken into the wardroom 
 to write tor the officers, where I was treated with 
 the utmost delicacy and kindness, particularly by 
 Lt. Hunt ; although my feelings were constantly 
 wounded at the severity which I had to witness 
 towards a great many poor desponding wretches- 
 who had entered on board from necessity more 
 than choice. There was almost one incessant out 
 cry of men writhing under the rope s end or the 
 cat. Having in a former publication, entered my 
 protest against the barbarous practice of flogging 
 men like dogs to make them behave like sailors;, 
 and having enjoyed the pleasure of seeing such 
 practice reprobated by our government, and abol 
 ished by congress, 1 shall not dwell any longer ou 
 a subject which I hope it is unnecessary to revive, 
 the bare thoughts of which awaken feelings of no use 
 to cherish. Our frigate was commanded by Capt. 
 Bainbridge, who was thought by many of the sail 
 ors to be a good officer, and he certainly gave me 
 no reason to complain as to myself. Mr. Jone?> 
 the second Lieutenant, who has since distinguished 
 himself so handsomely, was a calm, mild and judi 
 cious officer, beloved by all the seamen Mr. 
 M Donough, now the Commodore and hero of Lake 
 Cham plain, was a midshipman on board ; as was 
 also the intrepid Capt. Biddle, and the unfortunate 
 Mr. Gibbons, who was burnt in the Charleston 
 Theatre. On the 12th July, we dropped down 
 to Fort Penn, where we lay several days, and 
 then fell down the river as far as New-Castle. 
 Here we took in water, provisions, &c. After re 
 maining here a few days, Lt. Jones arriving from 
 New-York with between thirty and forty mea 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 223 
 
 whom he had shipped there, and being now fully pre - 
 pared, and having our pilot on bo -rd, we descend 
 ed the river, a. id on the 27th, dismissing the piiot 3 
 -we .soon lost sight of the happiest shores on earth. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 To iiard our commerce from as c ailin2; foes 
 Their insults to repel their fleets oppose; 
 O ir rights ** assert to navigate the main, 
 In snit e of England, Barb ry, France or Spain ; 
 To show base oirates for defence we meant 
 T expand whole millions tribute not a cent 
 For this our pin^s, proud monarchs of the wood, 
 BowM to the dust, and kiss d the raging flood ; 
 For this our oiks forsook their kindred trees, 
 And pr^ud <Vr ocean, march d before the breeze ; 
 For this our seamen quit their native shore, 
 Rode the wild waves, and ferried seas of gore ; 
 Fr.r this Hold Eaton, with his patriot band, 
 ScourM the lone deserts of a barb rous land ; 
 For this our naval heroes fought and bled, 
 So brave when living, andsomturti d when dead. 
 
 Our frigate shaped her course for he Mediter 
 ranean. \Vp had for the most part of the way, a 
 fine breeze and very pleasant weather. We ar 
 rived at Gibraltar, if I mistake not, the 26th day 
 of Auiust, but saw the straits in twenty-six rlnys 
 from the Capes of Delaware. We lay at the Rock 
 a few days, when the frigate New-York. Commo 
 dore Morris, the Constitution, Capt. Preble, and 
 
SKETCH OF THE 
 
 the John Adams, Capt. Campbell, arrived from, 
 ihe Mediterranean. The brig Vixen, Lt. Smithy 
 also arrived from Baltimore. Information being 
 received that a war vessel with Barbary colors 
 was cruising oft" the Rock, our frigate went in pur 
 suit of her, and she hove in sight about the mid 
 dle of the afiernoon. She ben? away with all the 
 sails she could set, and we gave chase. Our ship 
 was under British colors; but still she refused to 
 come to until we had fired a number of guns. A- 
 bout sunset, we came within hailing she. was 
 asked, where are you from ? " Morocco/ Where 
 are you bound ?~" Morocco " What news? 
 "The Emperor of Morocco has given orders to cap- 
 turf all American shipping." Have you taken any? 
 " Yes, a brig from Boston." Where is she ? 
 Ahead." We were along side the ship with eve 
 ry thing prepared to give her a full broadside, 
 when judge of the enemy s consternation, orders 
 were given to let fall the British flag and hoist the 
 
 American colors followed by " Strike you d d 
 
 rascals or I ll blow you out the water !" In an in 
 stant their flag was down, and a cry of quarters! 
 America! quarters!"* She proved to be the 
 Moorish ship Mirboha, of twenty-two guns and 
 one hundred and ten men. The prize in tow, we 
 no\v made for the brig, which led us a chase and 
 v/as very unwilling to comp to ; but when we 
 came within hail, the affrighted master cried cut, 
 " Morocco , Morocco ! Jl merica /" arid immed iately 
 struck his colors. This brig was the Celia, of Boston, 
 with six hands besides the Captain and mate, who 
 had been stripped of their clothing, robbed of their 
 chosts and cash, plundered of every thin, valuable 
 in their ra>*rro. ^r><] confined below in irons. Vt c 
 took the brig ia tow, the prize in company, and 
 
ATTilOU S LIFE. 
 
 Steered Tor the Rock. Knowing; themselves to be 
 pirates, the Moorish captives manifested great 
 concern for their lives, by often putting their fin 
 gers across their throats and asking us if we did 
 not think thrv \\ould lose their heads. They were 
 rdi sent on !>oard olour ship. Lt Cox remained on 
 Hoard the Moorish ship as prize master. The prison 
 ei s we kept on b;ard the frigate, where they were 
 treated with kindness, for some days, and then 
 sent to their own ship again. To supply the place 
 of Mr. Cos as first Lieut of the Philadelphia, Mr. 
 Porter came on board, and midshipman Renshaw 
 to fill (he place of Mr. M Donoiijjh who rema ned 
 with Mr. Cox. The Emperor of Morocco disavow 
 ed this act, the ship was restored, and die treaty 
 of 1786 was renewed. A flairs being adjusted 
 with Morocco, we sailed for Malta some time iu 
 October in company with the Vixen, and arrived 
 (here towards the latter part of the month. I 
 need not inform the intelligent reader that is the 
 Island which in St. Paul s day was called Melita, 
 the {mice where he was shipwrecked, and where: 
 the "barbarous people showed no little kindness/ 
 [ he town of Malta is lar^e and populous, the har 
 bor is spacious and commodious, and be ins nearly 
 enclosed by th town, it is a very safe one for ship 
 ping. The houses are be i it of a creran colored 
 stone, a IK! are durable and handsome. The nu 
 merous churches, priests, monks, and friars the 
 almost incessant ringing; of bells in every part of 
 the town, as signals for prayers, would lead any 
 one to imagine that Iiee was the residence of holy 
 Christian* ; but you irwsftuke very good care when 
 amo !_ t 1 ese pious Christians, that you do not have 
 yuur pockets picked, with all their zeal and piety. 
 U 
 
226 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 After a short stay here, we sailed for Tripoli, and 
 for what reason I know not, left the brig. 
 
 On the 31st day of October, early in the morn 
 ing, a sail was discovered on our larboard bow, 
 and orders were immediately given for chase. 
 She hoisted Tripolitan colors and bore away, ma 
 king inshore towards Tripoli. The white walls 
 of our destined place of confinement soon hove in 
 sight. Every sail was set, and every effort made 
 to overhaul the ship, and cut her off from the town. 
 The wind was not very favorable to our purpose, 
 and we frequently had to wear ship. A constant fire 
 was kept up from the Philadelphia, but to no pur 
 pose. We were now within about four and a half 
 miles from the town, and Captain Bainbridge, not 
 bfcin acquainted with the harbor, having no pilot 
 nor correct chart, trusted inplicitly to Lt. Porter, 
 who had been here before, and who professed to be 
 well acquainted with the situation of the harbor. We 
 however went so close in that the Captain began 
 to be fearful of venturing any further, and was 
 heard to express his apprehensions to Lt. P. who 
 made answer that there was no danger yet, and that 
 he would give them a few shots more. A few mo 
 ments afterwards, and just as our ship was pre 
 paring to wear away, she struck upon the shoals 
 and remained fast! I was writing in the ward 
 room at the time, and hearing a tremendous 
 bustle on deck, ran up the hatchway to see 
 what was the matter. I saw at once that the 
 ship s bow lay up partly careened, and that she 
 was aground. She lay in a posture exactly as I 
 had dreamed of seeing her a few nights before, and 
 the moment [saw her, the dream recurred to me in 
 avery striking manner. Dismay was visible in 
 every countenance. The sails were put aback; 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 2*7 
 
 the topgallant sails loosened, three anchors thrown 
 away from the bows ; the water in the hold start 
 ed ; and the guns thrown overboard, excepting a 
 few abaft to defend the ship against the attacks of 
 the gunboats, three of which were now under 
 way from the wharves. Her foremast was also 
 cut away ; but ail to no eftect. One gunboat only 
 was able to gain a position where she could reach 
 us and this began and continued to spit her fiery 
 vengeance ; but they fired too high, and hit nothing 
 but the rigging. The stern ci our frigate was 
 partly demolished to make way fur our guns to 
 bear upon the enemy the better, but all was una 
 vailing. It was about twelve o clock when the 
 frigate struck the shoals. We continued firing 
 at the gunboats and using every means in our pow 
 er to get the ship afloat and annoy the enemy, 
 when, a little before sunset, the Eagle of Ameri 
 ca tell a prey to the vultures of Barbary the 
 
 fla,> was struck! and what is worse, struck to 
 ONE Tiipolitan gunboat!!! -Ve had boarding 
 pikes, battle axes, muskets and bayonets, cutlasses 
 and pistols,dirks and tomahawks, boarding nettings, 
 and every thing else to defend ourselves with ; 
 there were more than three hundred of us on board 
 we might, 1 humbly beg leave to think, have 
 kept olf the enemy for that night, and behold the 
 next morning, as I have always been told by the 
 Tripoli tans, the ship was afloat ! ! ! How this act 
 was justified by the court martial that afterwards 
 investigated the subject, is not for me to say. I 
 know, however, hat il was thought by many of 
 the warrant and il the petty officers, as well as 
 by the whole crew, to say the least of it, an un 
 necessary and premature surrender. The fact 
 Tvas, the enemy were so dastardly that after ihe 
 
228 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 flag was struck they dare not, for they did n./f 
 come to take possession of their prize, until our 
 boat was sent and convinced them that it was no 
 furce, no trick, and that the U. S. frigate Phila 
 delphia of forty-four guns had actually struck her 
 colors to one Tripolitan <?;i*nboat !!! And vet we 
 juust not indulge the idea that Capt. Bainbridge 
 \vas a coward, bv any means. I suppose it was 
 feared that when night came on, the enemy would 
 venture out in full force, and probably overpower 
 us, e"mng no quarters. 
 
 While the boat was gone, the ship was scuttled, 
 and every thing destroyed or thrown overboard, 
 that could be of any use to the enemy: all hands 
 were called to muster on (he quarter deck Capt. 
 Bainbridge read a clause in the articles of war. - 
 stating that our wages would be continued while 
 prisoners of war encouraged us to hope fora ran 
 som, and advised us to behave with fortitude and 
 circumspection, while amongst our barbarous cap 
 tors. About sundown, the boats of the enemy came 
 along-side, boarded us, hurried us into their boat*, 
 and commenced their plunder stripping us of ail 
 our clothing, except shirts^trowsers and hats. 1 had 
 some pieces of gold which an officer had given me 
 in my vest pocket; which I at first refused to give 
 up, but one of the pirates pushing the muzzle of a 
 cocked pistol hard against my breast, soon brought 
 me to terms. When \\eapproached the. shore, 
 we were thrown headlong into the waves, foam 
 ing from a high .breeze, when the water was up 
 to our armpits, and left to strangle, or get ashore 
 as we could. At the beach stood a row of armed 
 Janizaries, through which we passed, amidst 
 cursings and spittings, to the Castle ate. It 
 , and we ascended a nancw ;vii;dii$g dicr- 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 23 
 
 Uial passage, which led into a paved avenue lined 
 with grisly guards, armed with sabres, muskets, 
 pistols, and hatchets Here we halted a^aiti a few 
 moments; and were again hurried on through va 
 rious turnings and flights of stair*, until we found 
 ourselves in the presence of his majesty, the puissant 
 Bashaw of Tripoli. The throne on which he was 
 seated was raised about four feet from the surface, 
 inlaid with Mosaic, covered with a cushion of the 
 richest velvet, fringed with gold, bespangled with 
 brilliants, The floor of the hall was of variegated 
 marble, spread with carpets of the most beautiful 
 kind. The person of the Grand Bashaw made a 
 very tawdry appearance. His clothing was a long 
 robe of blue silk embroidered with gold. His 
 broad belt, ornamented with diamonds, held two 
 gold mounted pistols and a sabre with a golden 
 scabbard, hilt, and chain?. On his head he wore a 
 large white turban, decorated in the richest mariner. 
 His whole vestments were supeib in the extreme: 
 His dark beard swept his breast. I should suppose 
 him to be about forty, is rather corpulent, five 
 feet tea inches in height, and of a manly majestic 
 deportment. When !te had satiated his pride and 
 curiosity, the guard conducted us into a dreary 
 and filthy apartment of the castle, where there 
 vvas scarcely room for us to turn round, and where 
 v. e were kept for nearly two hours, shivering in 
 our wet clothes, and with the chills of a very damp 
 night. The Neapolitan slaves, of whom the Ba 
 shaw had m;re than one hundred and fifty, brought 
 us dry clothing to exchange for our wet, and we 
 sincerely thanked them for their apparent kind 
 ness, expecting to receive ours again when dry ; 
 but the trickish scoundrels never returned our 
 clothes no** made us aav restitution. Our elotlilnr 
 U 2 
 
safe SKETCH o? THE 
 
 was new, and what they brought us in exchange 
 was old and ragged. We were next taken to a 
 piazza nearl} T in front of the Banhaw s audience 
 hall, where we lodged for the night. It was open 
 on one side to the cold winds oi the night, and as 
 many of us had wet clothes on, not having exr 
 changed them, add to this the gloomy prospects- 
 hefore us, and it will not be imagined that we en>- 
 joved rery comfortable repose. 
 
 in the morning about eight o clock, an old sor 
 ceress came to see us. She had the complexion of 
 a squaw, was bent by age, ugly by nature and ren 
 dered frightful by art. Looking round upon us, 
 she raised a shrill cry of lu y lu, lu, lu ! struck her 
 wand three times upon the pavement; and then 
 went through the ranks and inspected us. This 
 frightful hag is held by the Bashaw, and all the 
 Tripolitans, in the highest veneration, m-t only 
 as an enchantress, but as a prophetess also. Jt is 
 said by them, that she predicted the capture 
 of the Philadelphia, and believed by them, that 
 the frigate struck the shoals in consequence of her 
 incantations. 
 
 We were soon collected together in front of a 
 large window toward the yard, where the Bashaw, 
 the renegade Scotchman, Com. Lisle, and several 
 of the Bashaw s officers began to interrogate us, 
 respecting our Captain ? s giving up the ship to one 
 "unboat. We told him our Captain was a brave 
 man, and had done wisely. The Bashaw said he 
 was "good for the Turk, but no good for Ameri 
 cans^ He was very inquisitive to know the num 
 ber of shipping and military strength of America. 
 ^Ve gave him exaggerated accounts of both. 
 The carpenters, blacksmiths, and other mechanics 
 were selected from the crew, and when counted, 
 
AtmiOU S LIFE. 231 
 
 mingled with us again. We were then marched 
 to an old :>iagazine, which had once been occupi 
 ed as a prison tor the Swedish captives, who had 
 been taken like us, but were discharged. This 
 place had a most dismal appearance, was dark, 
 smoky, and floorless. The most of us had not 
 tasted a mouthful of food for nearly thirty hours, 
 and we began to feel the "keen demands of appe 
 tite." Towards evening;, some coarse white bread 
 was given us, one loaf a- piece, weighing about 
 twelve ounces. This was all we had for the day. 
 \Vehadnothingtosleep on but an old tattered 
 sail ; the bottom of the prison was full of sharp 
 pebble* ; the weather was about the most chilly of 
 any in the year ; we had, or I had nothing but a 
 shirt and trowsers ; the prison was very much 
 crowded, so that we had not room for all to lie 
 down at once, and you may well judg,e how much 
 we could enjoy the refreshment of sleep in such a 
 situation. For my part, the effects of my lodging 
 on such hard bedding aie felt to this day, and, pro 
 bably, will be felt with it creased pain, until the 
 day of my death. The commissioned and warrant 
 officers fared much bttter. They were it is true 
 kept in close confinement in the American Con 
 sular House, while we were allowed the liberty of 
 the town, when not at labor ? but they hat! plenty 
 of good wholesome provisions, and we were fre 
 quently almost famished with hunger Knowing 
 this to be our situation, "(Japt. B. wrote to the 
 Secretary of the Navy, "requesting," says Doct. 
 Coudery, "that arrangements mi.ht be made, to 
 meet the exigencies of liin. self, the other cfficers, 
 and their servants, and adding, the remainder of 
 the crew would b provided for by the Regency." 
 This I have always thought vas very wrong; for 
 
SKETCH OP 
 
 the Capt. could not have expected (hat the Bashavv 
 would allow us any more than he could make us 
 earn, or treat us any belter than his other slaves. 
 But I suppose our Captain was willing to make 
 the best of a bad bargain, and cause as little ex 
 pense to the United {States as possible. 
 
 The second morning of our captivity, MC were 
 all ordered out of the prison before sunrise. The 
 carpenters, the blacksmiths, the coopers and sail- 
 maker?, were separated into different gangs, and 
 appointed to iheir several employments, under 
 Turkish masters. The remainder divided into 
 different parties some sent into the castle to car 
 ry stone, lime and mortar, where they were making 
 repairs; and others to different kinds of labor as 
 they chanced to be called (or. Some got intoxica- 
 ted"on a liquor called aquctchnt, distilled from the 
 date, and sold by the Jews, for which offence they 
 received a severe bastinading. The instrument 
 with which they inflict this torture is called a 
 bastone ; it is generally a stick about four feet 
 long, as thick as a man s arm, through which two 
 holes are bored so as to take in a rope forming a 
 loop. Into this loop the victim s feet are put, be 
 ing first thrown on the ground with his back up 
 permost. A Turk then takes hold at each end of 
 the stick, and twisting it round, the feet are 
 brought in a horizontal position, screwed tight to 
 gether, with the soles fair for a blow. A man sits 
 on his back, and two more with each a bamboo, as 
 large as a walking-staff, and about three feet long, 
 bard and heavy, apply it to the soles of the feet with 
 ill their might and vengeance. In this manner, 
 they punished several of our men for various of 
 fences, and in this manner they punish their own. 
 The men thus flogged were put in heavy irons fer 
 
At THOH S LIFE. 23i~ 
 
 three days. Having nothing for twenty 
 four hours 9 allowance but two coarse black loaves 
 of sour barley bread, weigh frig about twelve ounce? 
 each, a piece, and b^ing kept hard at labor, our 
 men began to complain much of hunger. Some 
 of them had the good fortune to save a little money, 
 and these were permitted to p to the market to 
 purchase bread and vegetables. A little beef and 
 pork was brought from the frigate, and divided 
 amongst us. and though raw, devoured with greedi 
 ness Their market makes a wretched appear 
 ance, consisting of a long row of low mud-wail 
 huts, at the doors of which the people sitting on 
 the ground retail pumpkins* carrot?:, turnips, scul 
 lions, oranges, lenrt;nd, liaies, fi^s, dates, pomegra 
 nates, bread, butter, m:Ik, oil, &c. vVe were al 
 lowed about three fourths of a gill of sweet oil per 
 day, to eat with our bread. In this horrid -dun 
 geon, where some of us every night had to set up 
 for want of room to lie down, we continued through 
 the winter, suffering intolerably for the want of 
 shot-is and clothing, as well as for victuals, with 
 out hearing the- feast news from our squadron until 
 February. Several of our men became much indis 
 posed from sleeping on the damp ground, and going, 
 almost naked, and one of them, Julin ffiWiflnfdied 
 inconsequence; and some others did worse than 
 die by turning from- Christianity to Mahoiiietan- 
 ism The first one who disgraced our rl;ig in this 
 manner, thank fortune, was not an American, but 
 a German, who jj>ke the Lingua Franca, and had 
 been a quartermaster on board our frigate, by the 
 name of John Wilson, a perfidious wretch, who 
 acted as a spy upon us before he assumed the 
 dress of a Turk, and injured us very much in dif 
 fer tit ways, by carrying stories to the Bashaw, tend- 
 
.334 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 ing to prove bis partiality for him in preference to 
 the Americans. The fellow told us that the Ba 
 shaw s orders were for us to pull off our hats and give 
 him three huzzas as he passed through our prison 
 yard. The Bashaw personally made his appear 
 ance, and some of our men were mean enough to 
 cheer the old tyrant, while others refused with a 
 spirit truly American. He was dressed much the 
 same as when we first saw him in the castle, sur 
 rounded by slaves and Mamelukes, riding a 
 large milk-white mare. At his right hand rode a 
 huge negro, who was admitted to this distinguish 
 ed honor for having assassinated the Bashaw s 
 brother, who was a powerful and dangerous rival. 
 Four of his younger children went before him, on 
 mules led by Neapolitan slaves, carrying each 
 an umbrella over the head of the child. Two 
 large boxes, containing the Bashaw s best treas 
 ures were slung across a mule led by a trusty 
 slave. The Tripoli tans appearing to be more 
 savage than common, we fount! that some reports 
 had reached them of the Americans treating their 
 prisoners very roughly on board the John Adams ; 
 and Wilson had also informed the Bashaw that se 
 veral boxes of dollars had been thrown overboard 
 from the Philadelphia. Both of these stories were 
 false. The one told by Wilson, was doubtless 
 meant to ingratiate himself with the Bashaw, and 
 he actually kept a number of the Turks diving 
 and fishing for the money several days, and until 
 the Turks themselves disbelieved the story, i? be 
 ing contradicted by the whole crew. Capt. B. 
 coming among us, accused Wilson of his base trea 
 chery, which he could not deny, and told him that 
 if ever <h?v both got back to America, or got re 
 leased irorn captivity, he would have him hanged 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE, 235 
 
 for a traitor. This induced the perfidious wretch 
 to seal his infamy by embracing Mahometanism. 
 Soon after Wilson s apostacy, Thomas Prince, a 
 lad from Rhode-Island, followed his example. 
 
 Our bread was very musty: Our situation be 
 came intolerable, and I suggested the idea of pre 
 senting a petition to the Bashaw for some kind of 
 .relief. Some objected to it as being rather degra 
 ding to Americans to ask any favor of a Turk ; 
 but ( drew a petition and they ail signed it. It 
 was in the following words: 
 
 To his E.rcelleucy the Grand Bashaw of Tripoli. 
 
 The petition of the American prisoners, most 
 humbly sheweth: That when your petitioners 
 were captured in the United States frigate Phila 
 delphia, they were plundered of all their clothing;, 
 and are daily sickening and suffering most intol 
 erably, from the inclemency of the season, and 
 from not having any thing to sleep on to keep 
 them from the cold damp ground, but a tattered 
 sail-cloth: And also, that your petitioners, not re 
 ceiving sufficient nourishment to enable them to en 
 dure the hardships and to perform the grievous tasks 
 assigned them, are frequently most inhumanly 
 beaten for the lack of that strength, wbich proper 
 food would restore and supply Your petitioners 
 therefore pray, that his Excellency, consulting 
 his interest as well as his honor and humamty,would 
 graciously be pleased to grant us more comforta 
 ble clothing and more nourishing food ; and your 
 petitioners, while they continue your prisoners, 
 will remain your most faithful, industrious, and 
 obedients. 
 
 The next day the Bashaw in consequence of 
 the petition, ordered us two barrels of pork from 
 
56 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 Hie frig-ate. This however vas but. a drop in i 
 bucket, and was devoured with instantaneous 
 greediness. 
 
 On the Sncl of Dec. ona hundred and -fifty of our 
 men, myself among the rest, were sent to raise an old 
 wreck of,a vessel deeply barred, in the sand under 
 water, eastward from the town. It was now the 
 coldest reason of the year we. were almost naked, 
 ;nd were driven into the water up to our armpits. 
 \Ve had to shovel the sand from the bottom and 
 carry it in baskets to the banks. ;The chilling 
 waves almost arrested the flow of life forever, and 
 ihe Turks seemed more barbarous than usual, 
 beating us with their bamboos and exulting in our 
 sufferings. They kept us in (he water from about 
 ,uurise until two o clock P. M. before we were 
 permitted to come out. or to taste a mouthful of 
 food for that day. They then broug tt us some 
 bread ,ond a J.UK of aquadent. When we had 
 "snatch d a short repast," we were driven a^ain 
 into the water and kept there until s.unset. We 
 had no clothes to change, but were -obliged to 
 sleep in our wet ones on the damp earth the follow 
 ing niht. \\ifh such usage life became almost 
 insupportable, and every night when. I laid my 
 head upon the (: iap of earth, ? I most sincerely 
 prayed that I mij>ht never experience the horrors 
 of .another morning. Our suffer inffs continued 
 much. the same UP. til about the middle of February. 
 
 On the )Gth of that month, towards evening, two 
 vessels bearing American colors , were seen standing 
 in fur the harbor. Our men were wuJi rejoiced at the 
 sij^ht ; for as the season of the tear was not favorable 
 *or ariatiack, they flattered iv *< !< .e that they had 
 cop.ie either to rin^- n tis on KVK? already agreed 
 to, or with proposals v/h uh wi- Jiopod would be 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 237 
 
 accepted. Tho Bashaw had ordered us a barrel 
 of park, another of beef, and all our men appeared 
 more than ordinarily cheerful. About 1 1 o clock 
 at night, we were roused by the screeches of wo 
 men, the clattering; of footsteps through the prison 
 yard, the harsh loud voices of men, mingled with 
 a thundering of cannon from the castle, which 
 made our prison tremble to its ha so. Tumult, 
 consternation and dismay reigned in every sec 
 tion of the town and castle; and it was verily 
 believed that if we had been at liberty and fur 
 nished with arms, we might with ease have taken 
 the castle with every other fort in town ; for the 
 most of the people in town supposed we had al 
 ready risen anil taken the castle, ami were a- 
 fraid to come nigh it. In the confusion of voices 
 we could often hear the word American? and 
 we therefore hoped that some of our countrymen 
 were landing to liberate us; but tire true cause of 
 so much clamor we did not learn until morning. 
 Feb. irth, early in the morning, and much ear 
 lier than usual, our prison doors wera unbolted, 
 which had been doubly guarded the night before, 
 and the keepers rushed in amongst us like so many 
 fiends, and fell to beating and cursing every one 
 they could see, spitting in our faces, gnashing their 
 teeth, and hissing like dragons. Word was soon 
 brought that the wreck of the frigate Philadelphia 
 lay smoking in the rocks at a point where she 
 had drifted, burned down to the water. We could 
 not disguise our joy at the event, which increased 
 tbe exasperated Turks still the more, so that every 
 boy we met in the streets took the liberty to spft 
 on us as \va passed, not forgetting to pelt us se 
 verely with stones. Our tasks were also redou 
 bled, our bread v\ithheld for three days, and every 
 V 
 
*:33 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 driver exercised cruelties over us tenfold ro.rrf, 
 rigid than before. We were so hungry thai fm 
 my part I was glad to pick up the peals of oranges 
 in the dirty streets, and eat them filth and all. 
 Hew and by whom this heroic achievement was per 
 formed I never knew for a certainty un il I saw the 
 oflicial report afterwards. " The Philadelphia lay 
 within halfgun shot of the Bashaw s castle ami prin 
 cipal battery. On her starboard quarter lay ten Tri- 
 politan cruisers within two cables length ; and on 
 her starboard bow a number of gunboats within 
 half gun shot. All her guns were mounted and 
 loaded. Lieut. Stephen Decatur had arrived 
 from Syracuse in the Ketch Intrepid, which he 
 had lately taken from the Tripolitans, manned 
 with seventy volunteers for this hazardous enter- 
 prize, lie had parted with the Syren, Lieut. 
 Steward in a gale, but still was resolved to risk 
 the event alone. When within about two hun 
 dred yards of the Philadelphia, they were hailed 
 from her, and ordered to anchor in peril of a broad 
 side. The pilot on board the Intrepid was ordered 
 to answer that all their anchors were lost. The 
 Intrepid was warped along side the Philadelphia, 
 It was not until then the Tripolitans suspected 
 them to be an enemy; and the coi, fusion in con 
 sequence was great As soon as the vessels were. 
 sufficiently near, Lieut. Decatur sprung on board 
 the frigate, and was followed by midshipman Mor 
 ris. It was a minute before the remainder of the crew 
 succeeded in mounting after them : but the Turks 
 crowded together on the quarter deck were in too 
 reat consternation to take advantage of this delay. 
 As soon as a sufficient number of Americans gain 
 ed the deck, they rushed upon the Tripoli ans, who 
 wore soon overpowered, and twenty of them were 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 
 
 killed. * Thus says the official report ; but (lit: 
 Tripolitans and Neapolitan slaves told us a dilVer- 
 ent story. They said there were only eight men 
 on board the frigate ; that two of them escaped and 
 six were made prisoners; but not a single person 
 killed. The reader may make his own comments. 
 
 After this a tent was pitched in front of our pri 
 son, and a strong guard kept over us at night. 
 We received no wore beef nor pork from the Ba 
 shaw s stores. M arch 1 1 804 Our officers pass 
 cd through our prison yard for tho castle, v. here 
 they were con lined in future, having before been 
 kept in the American consul house. We were not 
 permitted to speak to them : Capt. 13., however, 
 bid us be of good heart,, although he looked very 
 much dejected himself. 
 
 March 26. Early in the morning, some of our 
 men returning; from the beach with joy sparkling in 
 their eyes, informed us that a frigate with American 
 colors was standing in for the harbor. About 8 
 o clock our joy was increased at observing that she 
 carried a white ilag at the main. The Bashaw soon 
 responded to the signal, by hoisting a white flagon 
 the- tower of the castle. As we walked the streets, 
 the Turks who but the day before had stoned us, 
 now patted us on the shoulder, saying" bono (goodj 
 American." About 9 o clock Consul O Biian lan 
 ded on the beach, and went up i:ito the castle, 
 In about half an hour he returned a.id went oa 
 board the frigate again. We could not learn eith 
 er fie object or result of this short interview. 
 The frigate soon bore away and left us again hope 
 less Our allowance and treatment continued a- 
 boui the same. The men, many of them, began to 
 be as iiaked as the natives of Pel lew. Some cloth 
 ing lud been issued to us by Capt. E. but not s-jfti- 
 
xi40 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 cient for all, and thoie \vlio had clothes sold 
 to buy provisions. Many of us had to dra.u a hea 
 vy waggon (left by Bonaparte in his expedition to 
 Kg\ pt) five or six miles into ihe country over the 
 burning sands, barefoot and shirtless, and back a- 
 j;a5n loaded with timber, before they had any tiling 
 to eat, except perhaps a few raw carrots. We were 
 much afflicted with vermin ; and having no change 
 of clothes, the only way we had to keep ourselves 
 from them was to go on the beach and strip oil* our 
 shirts, going Baked until we washed them, and then 
 our trowsers in the same way. 
 
 April 15 We felt the S>roc winds; they are 
 very sultry and suffocating. The Turks do not 
 walk the streets during the prevalence of these 
 morbid gales. They told us that if these winds 
 continued " tri juurna, tota inwto" three days 
 we should all die. A fresh breeze from the ocean* 
 however, about two o clock, banished all apprehen 
 sions of nioi tality from that quarter. About this time 
 two of our men caught a beautiful bird, and brought 
 it to the prison. It was said to be a sweet songster. 
 The Danish Consul, Mr. NISSKN, had showed us 
 the utmost kindness, and I suggested to the men to 
 make a handsome cage for the bird and present it 
 to that gentleman, as a mark of respect. While 
 they were making the cage, I wrote a few verses to 
 accompany the present, as follow : 
 iAnes addressed to the honorable Mr. J\"issen, Dan 
 ish Consul, on presenting him a bird in a cag?.* 
 
 To thee, the prisoners warmest fricnc!, 
 
 This little warbling one I send, 
 Committed to thy care: 
 
 J Tis a Tripolitan, my foe, 
 
 Rut thou canst let the captive, go, 
 And cleave its native air. 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 241 
 
 Between belligerents not free, 
 Between two slaves the bird and me, 
 
 Both panting for release, 
 A mediator who shall stand 
 Piedg d for the ransom all demand 
 
 Or com promise a peace. 
 
 I know twould glad thy noble heart 
 
 To see me from my cage depart 
 The warbler too from his ; 
 
 But since thy sympathy, though large, 
 
 Can only one or us discharge, 
 Til tell thee what it is : 
 
 Take both beneath thy friendly wing, 
 And he who shall the sweetest sing, 
 
 With ihee shall fare the best, 
 Until my jubilee shall come, 
 Then let me seek my longing home, 
 The bird h& welcome ne&t 
 
 On receiving the bird and verses, he gave tho men 
 \vho brought them a very handsome present, and 
 sent for iue to come and see him. I went, and he 
 treated me in a very polite and friendly manner, 
 jgave me a handful of n.oiiey, and told me he would 
 try and do something to mitigate my sufferings.- 
 lie invited me to call on him as often as I chose, 
 and he would always give me something to eat and 
 drink, for he thought I couid sing full as well as 
 the bird. This gentleman, though a Dane, had 
 been educated in England, and was in my opinion 
 as humane and accomplished a gentleman as 1 ev 
 er knew. It will be recollected that Congress vo 
 ted hh*.i a golden urn as a tumpliniciit for Rift gem* 
 ess and kinilaem ia ths Aiiierican priioacrs while 
 V 2 
 
342 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 in Tripoli. I called on him as often as a proper 
 delicacy would justify, assisted him occasionally 
 in copying his papers, and always found him the 
 same benevolent gentleman. Through his influ 
 ence, seconded by Capt Bainbridge, I obtained ex 
 emption from labor, which pleasing intelligence 
 was announced to me on the 27th May, by Doc 
 tor Uklgley, who was permitted to visit our sick. 
 He called the keepers and told them in the pres 
 ence of some of the high officers of state who con 
 firmed what he said, that it was the Bashaw s or 
 ders not to send me to work any more while a pri 
 soner in that place. These were glad tidings of 
 great joy. 
 
 June 10 We were ordered to remove to our 
 newly prepared prison. It was much more coni- 
 iortable than the other and considerably larger. 
 About 100 Neapolitans (subjects of the Kii g of 
 Naples) were confined with us, making in the 
 whole upwards of 350 of us in one apartment 
 every night. 
 
 July 4 The benevolent Danish Consul sent for 
 me and made me a present of money to enable me 
 to celebrate the day. I selected some of the most 
 decent men, and we went by piocession out on 
 the sands of the beach, where we seated ourselves 
 on a stone platform, the remains of an aiu ient 
 reservoir, under the cooling shade of an orange 
 tree, open to refreshing breezes from the sea. 
 Here we sat and regaled ourselves with the juice 
 of tbe date tree, which the inhabitants call logby, 
 until we almost forgot that while oftVring a libation 
 to liberty, we ourselves were wretched slaves. 
 This i.cjiH r, which is the san-e as palm wine, runs 
 from the date or palm tree like our uviple sap, 
 thouh from th*J limbs insteaU of tlie body, and is 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 243 
 
 as strong; as Teneriffe, right from the tree, but 
 soon loses its spirit. Towards evening we re 
 turned to our gloomy prison with several jugs of 
 the wholesome and cheering beverage. 
 
 Three or four of our shipping hove in sight a 
 little before sunset, and they continued to show 
 themselves occasionally off* the harbor until the 
 third day of August, when our men in the forenoon 
 returning from the beach, told us that the. whole 
 coast was lined with American shipping, standing 
 in for the harbor. The Turks were in great trepi 
 dation nothing but beating and stoning and Dri 
 ving us with horrid imprecations. At three quar 
 ters past two, our squadron commenced the action 
 by throwing shells into the town. In an instant 
 the enemy s shipping and batteries opened a tre 
 mendous fire, which vas pn n ptly re-tun re! I \ ur 
 whole squadron within grape shot distance. \Ve 
 were all locked in the prison, and a strong guard 
 set over us. The shells which tl ey sent passed di 
 rectly over our prison, with a whizzing sound, and 
 fell harmless in the sards withort the walls of the 
 town. This action continued till nearly sun c o\\ n, 
 with some intermissions, during wl ich (in men in 
 quads were taken from the prison to cany ke^s of 
 powder from the magazine in the castie to d ft , rent 
 forts, and were beaten at every stop, with a heavy 
 burthen on their shoulders One ot our tars being 
 drafted for this purpose, when he came to tl.e maga 
 zine, and saw one of his shipmate- just entering into 
 the vault where the powder was kept, put hisnii^er 
 on his nose which happened to be of a fury color, 
 and cried out "wardu! nu;ch de /iUgel 91 (t^ke 
 care, much fire !) which so pkastd sune of the 
 Turks who stood round, that the fdii,w uho^ave 
 the caution was ordered to return to the prison 
 
244 SKETCH OF THIS 
 
 nnd rest, without carrying the powder, amidst the 
 bursts of laughter which his wit had excited. But 
 the man with the red nose never forgave him lor 
 so pointed an insult in making him the butt of his 
 ridicule at such a fearful time. The result of this 
 action is well known; it terminated gloriously, 
 but did not effect the object of releasing the pri 
 soners. Among the Americans there was only 
 one killed (Lieui. James Ihcatuv) and thirteen 
 wounded. The number of killed and wounded 
 among the enemy cannot be ascertained, but it was 
 considerable. 
 
 On the 7th of August, there was another attack 
 made by Com. Preblc. Their seven-gun battery 
 was silenced in less than two hours, except one 
 gun. The walls of the other forts were greatly 
 injured. One of our gunboats was blown up, by 
 a shot from the enemy which passed through her 
 magazine. She had on board twenty-eight offi 
 cers, seamen and marines, ten of whom were kill 
 ed and six wounded. Aug. 17 Fifteen dead 
 Americans were found on the beach, drifted 
 ashore. The Bashaw gave permission and we 
 buried them as decently as we could. On the 27tl; 
 of Aug. Coin. Preble again attac ked the place. 
 At one A. M. ihe gunbcats in two divisions, led 
 bv Captains Decatur and Somers, were ordered to 
 advance and take their stations close to the rocks 
 at the entrance of the harbor, within grapeshot 
 distance from the Bashaw s castle. The Syren, 
 Argus, Vixen, Nautilus, Enterprize, and boats of 
 ihe squadron accompanied them. 
 
 A wi?rm engagement ensued, which my limits 
 in this publication will not permit me to detail. 
 Com. Preble in the Constitution performed the 
 most cliirit "; acts. lie run close in under the 
 
AUTHORS LIFE. 245 
 
 butteries, and continued in that perilous position 
 until tie had thrown 300 round shot, besides grape 
 and canister, into the tiabbau s castle and batter 
 ies. Great slaughter was made among the enemy s 
 gunboats. Our vessels \vereconsiderablyinjured 
 iii their sails and rigging. The Constitution was 
 considerably injured above her hull ; one of her 
 anchor stocks and larboard cable was shot away, 
 and a uuruber of grape shots was striking in dif 
 ferent part* of her hull, but not a man lurt! ! ! 
 The gunboats fired upwards of 400 round shot, 
 besides grape and canister. Ail our officers and 
 seamen behaved vith the utmost intrepidity. A 
 boat belonging to the John Adams was sunk bv 
 a double headed shot from the batteries, which 
 killed three men and badly wounded o ,e. 
 
 The Tripolitans began to be frightened) and 
 some of their principal officers treated u? with 
 more respect than before the attack?, but the low 
 wretches continued to abuse and insult us, and 
 some of the keepers who had lost friends in the 
 engage in tints, were more savage than ever. The 
 management cf the prisoners was in a great meas 
 ure confided to these inhuman villains, and they 
 almost starved us to death. We wrote to Capt. 
 liiiUibridge, or I wrote in the name of the prison 
 ers, that it was impossible tor us to exist under 
 such sufferings as we now experienced, and the 
 Capt. engaged the Danish Consul to furnish us 
 vvitn oae pound of betf per man, \\ith vegetables 
 for soup, and one loaf of white bread in addition to 
 tiie Biuhaw s allowance. The meat and vegeta 
 bles we were to receive twice a week, and the 
 bread once a day. As I was exempt from laboi\ 
 the task of superintending the drawing and divi 
 ding the provisions, devolved oa me, It \"is a 
 
246 SKETCH OF TDK 
 
 difficult and thankless office, like many others ; 
 but I adopted a plan which silenced all mui mur 
 ing at once. 1 divided the men into messes of 
 eight, as on Aboard of the ship, making them choose 
 their own messmates numbering each mess. 
 The meat was then cut up by two of the petty 
 officers chosen by the men, and divided into a 
 many heaps or parcels as thero were messes, taking 
 particular care that each dividend should be dike 
 in quality. Each lot was then v, eighed and made 
 exactly equivalent. The vegetables were as tare- 
 fully parcelled out as the meat, :i:;d laid along side. 
 As many numbers as there were messes were then 
 cut of paper and stuck on the meat. Another set 
 of numbers was thrown into a hat and shaken to 
 gether. The number of the messes being called 
 one by one, \vhate\cr ticket each one drew enti 
 tled him to a corresponding number, of meat and 
 vegetables. This was a lottery without blanks. 
 The bread was easily divided. 
 
 Sept. 3 Our squadron again attacked the place. 
 Our gunboats were an hour and fifteen minutes in 
 action. They disabled several of the enemy s 
 gallics and boats, and considerably damaged Fort- 
 English. Most of our boats received damage inr 
 the rigging and sails. About 50 shrtls were 
 thrown into town and our boats threw 400 round 
 shot, besides grape and canister. None of the 
 shells however, or but very few of them, burst 
 owing probably to unskilful bombardiers. O.i 
 the 7th of Sept. Cora. Pn-ble retired from the 
 siege On the 10th, the U. S. ship President 
 Com. Barren, and Constellation dipt Campbell*. 
 hove in sight, and soon joined company, when the 
 command of the squadron was surrendered to 
 Coin. Barren, with the usual ceremony. No fur- 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 247 
 
 J .cr operations were carried on against Tripoli 
 for this season. 
 
 Our men were employed, much against their will 
 in repairing the damages done by the several attacks 
 ni>. n the forts and batteries, and no hopes of re 
 demption for this season. Nov. 9 Our rations 
 from the Danish Consul were discontinued. Nov. 
 20 A great scarcity of bread and our men were 
 obliged to sell their clothes which they hail lately 
 druvn, and for which they must sufi er, to keep 
 from starving. Dec. 10 Starving n^ain GUI 
 keepers opened the prison, doors in I he morning 
 and ordered us "lota -fora!" (all out.) Xot a 
 man moved, and we unanimously resolved that if 
 death should be (lie consequence, not to turn out 
 another day \vitlu ut food, and this brought the 
 Turks to terms for that time. Being commissary 
 several, I had an apartment fitted up for an office 
 and store house atone end of the yard, with only 
 one other to attend ne, so that I fared rather bet 
 ter than the rest, arid in fact had considerable 
 respect shown me. From the 20th Feb. we had a 
 liiekamseen (4 cents) allowed to each man per dav, 
 and my business was among other duties, to go 
 to the Danish Consul every morning, get the RIO- 
 nev which was commonly in gold, procure change 
 in buckamscens, and pay it out to the men. 
 From the first of March until the peace was mado 
 in June, our frigates and other vessels appeared 
 occasionally oft" the harbor, and our poor fellows 
 were sure to suffer for it at every time they ap 
 peared. The Turks were in constant terror and 
 alarm preparations continually making I m- de 
 fence, until the third day of Jnr.f* 1805, when 
 articles of peace were signed abnuf 4 o clock in 
 "^ afternoon, and a salute was fired from the fri- 
 
243 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 gates and batteries. This was the sweetest musta 
 that ever sounded in my ears We remained in 
 Tripoli that night, and the next day went aboard 
 of different ships I was sent to the Essex. We 
 left those of our crew who had turned Turk, in 
 Tripoli viz. Wilson, West, Smith, Hixmer, and 
 Prince. Smith and Prince were Americans the 
 others foreigners. I was made captain s clerk on 
 board the Essex, which on the 4th of July was ly 
 ing in Syracuse harbor. Being requested the day 
 before to prepare a song for the celebration of Inde 
 pendence ashore, f wrote the following, which 
 was suns; at table by consul Lear and encored three 
 or four times. General Eaton was present, and he 
 insisted on my taking a seat beside him, which I 
 did, and had the pleasure of taking a glass of wine 
 with that hero now conquered by death. Our whole 
 squadron were here, and there were a great many 
 jtficers present But the song. 
 
 H:ul Independence ! hail once more! 
 
 To meet thee on a foreign shore, 
 Our hearts and souls rejoice ; 
 
 To see thy sons assembled here, 
 
 Thy name is rendered doubly dear- 
 More charming is thy voice. 
 
 \ host of heroes bright with fame, 
 A Preble and Decatur s name, 
 
 Our grateful songs demand ; 
 And let our voices loudly rise, 
 At Eaton s daring enterprise, 
 
 And red victorious hai.d. 
 
 That recreant horde ofbarb rous foes, 
 Our deathless heroes bled t oppose, 
 Can never stand the test, 
 
AUTHORS LIFE. 249 
 
 When grappled with our dauntless tars, 
 Their crescent wanes beside our stars, 
 And quickly sinks to rest. 
 
 Thy spirit, born in darkest times, 
 Illumes the v. odd s remotest climes,. 
 
 Where er thy champions tread 
 
 Like lightning liash d on liarb ry s plains 
 Disolv d the groaning captive s chains, 
 
 And struck the oppressor dead. 
 
 llaii Independence! glorious day, 
 Which chased the clouds of night away. 
 
 That o er our country hung ; 
 
 Re-tune the voice, and let us hear 
 The song encoie a louder cheer 
 
 Resound from every tongue. 
 
 Kirzza ! may freedom s banners wave, 
 Those banners that have freed the slave, 
 
 With new all-conqu ring charms; 
 Til! nature s works in death shall rest 
 And never may the Tar be pressed 
 
 But in his fair one s arms. 
 
 It will be recollected that Gen. Katon took the 
 town of Derne while our squadron was blockading 
 Tripoli, and that his bravery contributed ^reuth to 
 the humbling of the Regency, and bringing him to 
 close with i!ie terms of peace madr i>\ Col. Lear. 
 
 When 1 went on board the E-.SL-X, it was ex- 
 r-c-cied she would sail for America in a snort time. 
 The President sailed in September, and the most 
 of the pri-oners went home in :.er; but when I 
 applied to go with. t .jcm, the oilicers oi the Essex 
 
250 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 told me that we should sail in about six weekj 
 and as I had a good station aboard, persuaded me 
 to remain. The Essex, as it happened; did not 
 sail until the next June. My situation, however, 
 on board of this frigate was very pleasant. We 
 visited Tunis, Algiers. Tangier, Malaga, Cadiz, 
 and Gibraltar. My duty was very easy, and iny 
 liv mjj of the best kind. About the 12th of June, 
 Com. Rogers took command of the Essex, and 
 Capt. Campbell went on board the Constitution and 
 remained as Commodore on the station. We sail 
 ed for America, was in the middle of the Atlantic 
 at the time of the great eclipse, and arrived at 
 the city of Washington about (he middle of Au 
 gust, 1806 having been absent from my native 
 country upwards of three years sometimes at a 
 distance of 6000 miles a prisoner in Tripoli nine 
 teen months and four days, and on the ocean the 
 remainder of the time. I staid in Washington 
 about a week, to got some clothes made, and reach 
 ed my family, a wife and one child, whom I found 
 well, about the first of September. 
 
 In the fall of 1809, I removed to the county of 
 Essex, where I again commenced merchandize, 
 and again unsuccessful. Here 1 was appointed 
 a Justice of the peace, and in 1812, on the de 
 claration of war, 1 tendered my services to Gov. 
 Tompkins, and was appointed Brigade Quarter 
 master of the 3d Brigade of detached militia, with 
 the pay and rank of Major. 1 immediately repair 
 ed to my station at Pittsburgh, where 1 remained 
 about six months, until the militia were discharged, 
 and then removed with my family to Whitefcbo- 
 iugh. Here 1 resided until yj ring, intending to 
 enter the regular service ; but altering my deter 
 mination, not however, fcr the waul oi a station, I 
 
AUTHOR S LIFE. 231 
 
 removed to Herkimer, where I spent the summer i 
 and in the winter of 1814, I removed to the vil 
 lage of Skaneateles in the coumy of Onondaga, and 
 went into the Druggist business. P?ace being 
 concluded when I had a considerable stock of 
 goods on hand, purchased at war prices, I was 
 once more compelled to quit business ; and in 
 January 1816, I removed to the village of Onon 
 daga Court House, where I have resided ever 
 since, holding from the spring after I came here 
 until last winter, the office of magistrate, and for 
 some part of the time, a commissioner in courts of 
 record. &c. Ever since I lived in this county, I 
 have been attached to the Protestant Episcopal 
 Church, which I believe to be the true apostolical 
 one, and from which 1 hope never to be separated, 
 neither on earth nor in heaven. 1 hope, however, 
 that I am not destitute of charity towards Chris 
 tians of all denominations and the whole race of 
 mankind. My doubts as to the truth of the Chris 
 tian Religion have long been dissipated, and I 
 trust will never return. In politics 1 have always 
 been a republican, and always shall be. The Ethi 
 opian can as well change his skin, or the Leopard 
 his spot, as I can my political creed. I have had 
 many warm contests with men whom t highly 
 esteem in every oilier respect, which I sincerely 
 regret, although 1 make no concessions, for 1 was 
 sincerelv persuaded, at the time, that I was right. 
 
 Having in my proposals confined myself to a cer 
 tain number of pages ir this publication. I have 
 been obliged to pass over many important scenes 
 in mv lil- for wsnt of tufficient room. 
 
 1 have seen a coiisidcrable j ortior of the world- 
 teen acquainted uith ] ecp e of all miti< i:s ai:c! of 
 all ite&cript ions, under e\ery citcunibtuhce and iu 
 
252 SKETCH OF THE 
 
 every situation ; and the result of my cspeiiencr 
 has brought me to the conclusion, 
 
 --" Tl at happiness sincere 
 
 I no where to be- found, or ev ry where; 
 
 TJiat virtue, only, is our bliss below 
 
 And ail uur kuowiedge is OURSELVES TO KNOW " 
 
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