Alexandria gazette & daily advertiser. [volume] (Alexandria [Va.]) 1817-1822, 1818-09-27
ORIGINAL POETRY.
ANELEGlAC ODE,
FOR the alexandria Gazette.


Saw We Columbia, when she frst unfurl'd
The flag ofFreedom 10 the asionish'd world
Heard We her voice, when rising to be Tree,
She p.ai'l her oath along her wide domains,
While tvran's irenhled al her stern decree,
And from her limbs fell clanking her rent
chains!
H,rk'd We the deeds ofgreatness by her DONE
The fields she fongt-the laureis that she won!
Heav'ns what a band heard then their coun-
try's call
What migs,y spirits ,hrong'd around her car,
Al Eght ia council, and all ere in war,
Willie Freedom smi'd, norask'd surer wall!
Bright considerations, they ejoic'd 10 roll
Round Washington, their centre, sun and soul.
Those days have FOLLOWED in the march Of
time:
That sun has set and each succeeding day
Has seen those constitutions fade away,
Fill few are lett to CLEAN along our cline.
Faint was their light, and fainter still Ii CLOVIS
Above the horizon's shades OF long repose;
For now. St. Clear, thy spirit too has fled,
To JOIN the concourse of illustrous dead.
And shall Columbia leave the brave,
Who stemmd for her the battles wave,
From penury's hand 10 be rewarded p
Let patriots. heroes, live torlon,
The prev OF poverty and scorn,
And die unmourn'd and unregarded! y
Shall we behold, with fearless eye,
The fathers OF our country die,
And from our hearts their memories sever!
Shall we not bid one howret b'ocm,-
One willow weep above the tomb,
Where sleeps The brave, TO sleep forever
On pillow OF stone, less cold and rude
Than his couGtry's base ingratitude
If ever bard deserve the sacred name,-
lfe'er he prove his origin divine
TT, when iie gives the patriots deeds 10 fame,
And chants a requiem DER hero's shrine.
And can no bard ie found, 10 sweep the Tyre,
In notes that thrill and sentiments that hre,-
No bard inspird, whose strains might pour a.
The anguish raptures OF eiegiac song? llong
Frai is the hap ~ hand has strung,
And few the notes my voice has sung;
But virtue must approve his care
Who weavfs howery wreath to grace
a patriots last long resting place,
Though wither'd ere he hang II there.
While in tie clear blue sky yon crescent keeps
Her midnight vigil, as calm nature sleeps,
Come thou with me, and let our footsteps lead
Where lie the relics The mighty dead.
Here, far removed from all the pageant show
OF courtly grief, sad mockery OF wo,--
Here, where we mark the end Of mortal things,
While solemn silence hangs on dewy wings
Here sleeps, beneath this new-rais' d earthly
mound,
A chief of other days IT'S holy ground.
Approach We not, whose breasts have never
known
The great emotions, virtue stamps her own
Whose CLASSY eyes no burning wo can melt
For suffering worth, whose hearts have never
Ye souless sons Of cold ingratilude, iielt:
VITO laugh'd at wo, and mock'd when misery
sued,
Far hence, nor curse, with sacrilegious tear,
The hero's memory, who reposes here.
But if compassion, child of heaven,
Has to your heart her influence given.
As mild as summers balmy air:
If round il Irvine those mystic ties
Ofman,-the social symrathics,
And all the virtues centre there:
Ifo;hers woes have power to- thrill
Your bosoms inmost core,
AM. pure as dew on lions hill,
Bid sorrows current pour:
Ifyou e'er lelt the sacred hame
In hero's heart that z lows;
Ifyou would emulate the fame,
The patriot only knows:
Ii in misiortune's bitter hour,
When storms Of grief and trouble lower,
Your manly spirits never move;
Oh! il Religions holy power
Has raised your thoughts TO things above:-
Then come and weep:-ior here his body lies
Whose kindred soul has sought IFS native skies.
Illustrious chief! how cruel were thy lot,
To live neglected and TO die forgot!
Thy wrongs are past. The sons of future days
Shall crowu thy memory with Immortal pays.
When time has buried in oblivious tide,
Thy persecurory, and their schemes OF PRIDE,
Thy name snail live,-a pious race Will cone,
And bow with reverence o thy hailow'd tomb.
Here shall! the future minstrel peans sing.
The hero bend,-the war-worn soldier cling;
And here the aged patriot tell his son.
The orks ofvalor by his fathers done:-
Behold, my boy, the last retreat
Of all that Dnce was good and great.
Here rest, beneath this humble stone,
The ashes OF man,
Whose life with brightest radiance shone,-
With glorious deeds began,
His youth beheld the war-torch flame,
On Ahraham's awful height;
There budded, bloom'd his early fame
In the iron field Of fight:
For there he rush d To victory
With Holfe TO conquer, or TO die.
"When freedom, bright as the morning STAR
Had roam'd DER eastern climes affair.",
And, like the dove that left the ark,
Had seen the whole a waste,
cherries chaos, wild and dark,
Nor found place OF rest;