To JOHN ADAMS, Esquire,

VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES
OF AMERICA,

THIS Poem is inscribed with Sentiments of the
highest Respect for his Private Character, and
for the important Services he has rendered
his Country,

By his very Obedient,

And Most humble Servant,

TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

THE INTRODUCTION.

IN the Parish of Greenfield, in the Town of Fairfield, in Connecticut, there is a pleasant and beautiful eminence, called Greenfield Hill; at the distance of three miles from Long-Island Sound. On this eminence, there is a small but handsome Village, a Church, Academy, &c. all of them alluded to in the following Poem. From the highest part of the eminence, the eye is presented with an extensive and delightful prospect of the surrounding Country, and of the Sound. On this height, the Writer is supposed to stand. The First object, there offering itself to his view, is the Landscape; which is accordingly made the governing subject of the First Part of the Poem. The flourishing and happy condition of the Inhabitants very naturally suggested itself next; and became of course, the subject of the Second Part. The Town of Fairfield, lying in full view, and, not long before the Poem was begun, and in a great measure written out, burnt by a party of British Troops, under the command of Governor Tryon, furnished the theme of the Third Part. A Field, called the

6

INTRODUCTION.

Pequod Swamp, in which, most of the warriors of that nation, who survived the invasion of their country by Capt. Mason, were destroyed, lying about three miles from the eminence abovementioned, and on the margin of the Sound, fuggefted not unnaturally, the subject of the Fourth Part.

As the writer is the Minifter of Greenfield, he cannot be fuppoſed to be uninterested in the welfare of his Parifhioners. To excite their attention to the truths and duties of Religion (an object in ſuch a ſituation, inſtinctively rifing to his view,) is the design of the Fifth Part; And to promote in them juſt ſentiments and uſeful conduct, for the preſent life, (an object cloſely connected with the preceding one) of the Sixth.

Many of the ſubjects, mentioned in the Poem, and fugged by the general ſtate of this Country, eaſily led a contemplative mind to look forward, and call up to view its probable ſituation at a diſtant approaching period. The ſolid foundations, which appear to be laid for the future greatneſs and profusion of the American Republic, offered very pleafing views of this ſubject to a Poet; and of theſe the writer has, in the Seventh Part of the Work, endeavoured to avail himſelf.

To contribute to the innocent amufement of his countrymen, and to their improvement in manners, and in œconomical, political, and moral ſentiments, is

INTRODUCTION.

the object which the writer wishes to accomplish. As he
is firmly perfuaded, that his countrymen are furnished
by Providence with as extenfive and advantageous
means of prosperity, as the world has hitherto been,
so he thinks it the duty and the interest of every
citizen, to promote it, by all the means in his power.
Poetry appears to him to be one, among the probable
means of advancing this purpose. "Allow me to
make the Songs of a nation," said a wife man,
"and who will may make their Laws." Poetry may
not, perhaps, produce greater effects in promoting
the prosperity of mankind, than philosophy; but
the effects which it produces, are far from being
fsmall. Where truth requires little illustration, and
only needs to be fet in a strong and affecting light,
Poetry appears to be as advantageous an instrument
of making useful impreffions, as can be easily con-
ceived. It will be read by many persons, who
would scarcely look at a logical discussion; by
most readers it will be more deeply felt, and more
laftingly remembered; and, to fay the leaft, it will, in
the preſent cafe, be an unuſual, and for that reaſon
may be a forcible method of treating ſeveral ſubjects,
handled in this Poem.

When the writer began the work, he had no design
of publishing it; aiming merely to amufe his own
mind, and to gain a temporary relief from the

* See Lowth's Lectures on Heb. Po.

## 8 INTRODUCTION.

preffure of melancholy. Hence it was dropped, at an early period; when other avocations, or amusements prefented themselves. The greater part of it was written seven years ago. Additions have been made to it, at different periods, from that time to the preſent—This will account for the dates of ſeveral things mentioned in it, which would otherwise ſeem to be improperly connected.

Originally the writer deſigned to imitate, in the ſeveral parts, the manner of as many Britiſh Poets; but finding himſelf too much occupied, when he projected the publication, to purſue that deſign, he relinquifhed it. The little appearance of ſuch a deſign, ſtill remaining, was the reſult of diſtant and general recollection. Much, of that nature, he has rejected, and all he would have rejected, had not even that rejection demanded more time than he could afford for ſuch a purpofe. Theſe facts will, he hopes, apologize to the reader, for the mixed manner which he may, at times, obſerve in the performance.

Greenfield, June 13th, 1794.

GREENFIELD HILL.

PART I.

THE PROSPECT.

FROM southern ifles, on winds of gentlest wing,
Sprinkled with morning dew, and rob'd in green,
Life in her eye, and music in her voice,
Lo Spring returns, and wakes the world to joy!
Forth creep the smiling herbs; expand the flowers;
New-loos'd, and burfting from their icy bonds,
The streams fresh-warble, and through every mead
Convey reviving verdure; every bough,
Full-blown and lovely, teems with tweets and fongs;
And hills, and plains, and pastures feel the prime.

As round me here I gaze, what prospects rife ?
Ethelial ! matchlefs ! such as Albion's fons,
Could Albion's ifle an equal prospect boaft,
In all the harmony of numerous fong,
Had tun'd to rapture, and o'er Cooper's hill,
And Windsor's beauteous foreft, high uprais'd,
And fent on fame's light wing to every clime.
Far inland, blended groves, and azure hills,
Skirting the broad horizon, lift their pride.
Beyond, a little chafm to view unfolds
Cerulean mountains, verging high on Heaven,
In mifty grandeur. Stretch'd in nearer view,
Unnumber'd farms salute the cheerful eye;
Contracted there to little gardens; here outspread

( 12 )

Spacious, with pastures, fields, and meadows rich; 25
Where the young wheat it's glowing green displays,
Or the dark foil befits the recent plough,
Or flocks and herds along the lawn disport.

Fair is the landfchape; but a fairer still 30
Shall soon inchant the foul—when harvest full
Waves wide its bending wealth. Delightful task!
To trace along the rich, enamell'd ground,
The fweetly varied hues; from India's corn,
Whose black'ning verdure bodes a bounteous crop,
Through lighter grafs, and lighter still the flax, 35
The paler oats, the yellowish barley, wheat
In golden glow, and rye in brighter gold.
Thefe soon the fight shall blefs. Now other fćenes
The heart dilate, where round, in rural pride
The village f spreads its tidy, fnug retreats, 40
That fpeak the industry of every hand.

How blefs'd the fight of fuch a numerous train
In fuch small limits, tafting every good
Of competence, of independence, peace,
And liberty unmingled; every houfe 45
On its own ground, and every happy fwain
Beholding no ſuperior, but the laws,
And fuch as virtue, knowledge, uſeful life,
And zeal, exerted for the public good,
Have rais'd above the throng. For here, in truth, 50
Not in pretence, man is efteem'd as man.
Not here how rich, of what peculiar blood,
Or office high; but of what genuine worth,
What talents bright and uſeful, what good deeds, 55
What piety to God, what love to man,
The queſtion is. To this an anſwer fair
The general heart fecures. Full many a rich,
Vile knave, full many a blockhead, proud
Of ancient blood, theſe eyes have ſeen float down

( 13 )

Life's dirty kennel, trampled in the mud,
Stepp'd o'er unheeded, or push'd rudely on;
While Merit, rifting from her humble skiff
To barks of nobler, and still nobler fize,
Sail'd down the expanding stream, in triumph gay,
By every ship saluted.

Hail, O hail
My much-lov'd native land! New Albion hail!
The happier realm, that, round his circling course,
The all-searching fun beholds. What though the breath
Of Zembla's winter fhuts thy lucid streams,
And hardens into brafs thy generous foil;
Though, with one white, and cheerlefs robe, thy hills,
Invested, rife a long and joylefs wafte;
Leaflefs the grove, and dumb the lonely spray,
And every pafture mute: What though with clear
And fervid blaze, thy fummer rolls his car,
And drives the languid herd, and fainting flock
To seek the fhrouding umbrage of the dale;
While Man, relax'd and feeble, anxious waits
The dewy eve, to flake his thirfty frame:
What though thy surface, rocky, rough, and rude,
Scoop'd into vales, or heav'd in lofty hills,
Or cloud-embofom'd mountains, dares the plough,
And threatens toil intenſe to every ſwain:
What though foul Calumny, with voice malign,
Thy generous ſons, with every virtue grac'd,
Accus'd of every crime, and still rolls down
The kennell'd ſtream of impudent abufe:
Yet to high HEAVEN my ardent praifes rife,
That in thy lightſome vales he gave me birth,
All-gracious, and allows me still to live.

Cold is thy clime, but every western blast
Brings health, and life, and vigour on his wings;
Innerves the steely frame, and firms the foul

( 14 )

With strength and hardihood; wakes each bold
And manly purpose; bears above the ills,
That stretch, upon the rack, the languid heart
Of fummer's maiden sons, in pleafure's lap,
Dandled to dull repofe. Exertion strong
Marks their whole life. Mountains before them sink
To mole-hills; oceans bar their courfe in vain.
Thro' the keen wintry wind they breaſt their way,
Or fummer's fierceſt flame. Dread dangers rouſe
Their hearts to pleafing conflict; toils and woes,
Quicken their ardour: while, in milder climes,
Their peers effeminate they fee, with ſcorn
On lazy plains, diffolv'd in putrid floth,
And ſtruggling hard for being. Thy rough foil
Tempts hardy labour, with his ſturdy team,
To turn, with ſinewy hand, the ſtony glebe,
And call forth every comfort from the mould,
Unpromifing, but kind. Thy houſes, barns,
Thy granaries, and thy cellars, hence are ſtor'd
With all the sweets of life: while, thro' thy realm,
A native beggar rarely pains the fight.

Thy fummer glows with heat; but choicest fruits
Hence purple in the fun; hence sparkling flowers
Gem the rich landſchape; double harvests hence
Load the full fields: pale Famine ſcowls aloof,
And Plenty wantons round thy varied year.

Rough is thy ſurface; but each landſchape bright,
With all of beauty, all of grandeur drefs'd,
Of mountains, hills, and fweetly winding vales,
Of foreſts, groves, and lawns, and meadows green,
And waters, varied by the plaſtic hand,
Through all their fairy ſplendour, ceaſeleſs charms,
Poetic eyes. Springs bubbling round the year,
Gay-wand'ring brooks, wells at the ſurface full,
Yield life, and health, and joy, to every houſe,

95

100

105

110

115

120

125

( 15 )

And every vivid field. Rivers, with foamy course,
Pour o'er the ragged cliff the white cascade,
And roll unnumber'd mills; or, like the Nile,
Fatten the beauteous interval; or bear
The fails of commerce through the laughing groves.

With wisdom, virtue, and the generous love
Of learning, fraught, and freedom's living flame,
Electric, unextinguishable, fir'd,
Our Sires established, in thy cheerful bounds,
The noblest institutions, man has seen,
Since time his reign began. In little farms
They meafur'd all thy realms, to every child
In equal shares defcending; no entail
The first-born lifting into bloated pomp,
Tainting with luft, and floth, and pride, and rage,
The world around him: all the race befide,
Like brood of ostrich, left for chance to rear,
And every foot to trample. Reafon's fway
Elective, founded on the rock of truth,
Wisdom their guide, and equal good their end,
They built with strength, that mocks the battering storm,
And spurns the mining flood; and every right
Diffens'd alike to all. Beneath their eye,
And forming hand, in every hamlet, rose
The nurturing school; in every village, fmil'd
The heav'n-inviting church, and every town
A world within itself, with order, peace,
And harmony, adjusted all its weal.

Hence every swain, free, happy, his own lord,
With useful knowledge fraught, of buſineſs, laws,
Morals, religion, life, unaw'd by man,
And doing all, but ill, his heart can wifh,
Looks round, and finds ſtrange happineſs his own;
And ſees that happineſs on laws depend.
On this heav'n-laid foundation reſts thy ſway;

( 16 )

On knowledge to discern, and sense to feel,
That free-born rule is life's perennial spring
Of real good. On this alone it refts.

For, could thy sons a full conviction feel,
That government was noxious, without arms,
Without intrigues, without a civil broil,
As torrents sweep the sand-built structure down,
A vote would wipe it's very trace away.

Hence too each breast is steel'd for bold defence;
For each has much to lose. Chosen by all,

The meffenger of peace, by all beloved,
Spreads, hence, the truth and virtue, he commands.

Hence manners mild, and sweet, their peaceful sway
Widely extend. Refinement of the heart

Illumes the general mafs. Even those rude hills,
Those deep embow'ring woods, in other lands
Prowl'd round by favages, the fame soft scenes,
Mild manners, order, virtue, peace, difcloſe;

The howling forest polish'd as the plain.

From earlieſt years, the fame enlightened foul

Founded bright ſchools of ſcience. Here the mind
Learn'd to expand it's wing, and ſtretch it's flight

Through truth's broad fields. Divines, and lawyers, hence,
Phyſicians, ſtateſmen, all with wifdom fraught,

And learning, ſuited to the use of life,
And minds, by buſineſs, ſharpen'd into ſenſe,

Sagacious of the duty, and the weal,
Of man, ſpring numberleſs; and knowledge hence

Pours it's falubrious ſtreams, through all the ſpheres
Of human life. Its bounds, and generous ſcope,

Hence Education opens, ſpreading far
Through the bold yeomanry, that fill thy climes,

Views more expanded, generous, juſt, refin'd,
Than other nations know. In other lands,

The mafs of man, ſcarce rais'd above the brutes,

( 17 )

Drags dull the horsemill round of fluggish life: 200
Nought known, beyond their daily toil; all else
By ignorance' dark curtain hid from fight.
Here, glorious contrast! every mind, inspir'd
With active inquisition, restlefs wings
Its flight to every flower, and, fettering, drinks
Largely the sweets of knowledge. 205

Candour, say,
Is this a state of life, thy honest tongue
Could blacken? These a race of men, thy page
Could hand to infamy? The shamefuleft taſk 210
Thy foes at first began, and still thy foes,
Laborious, weave the web of lies. 'Tis hence
The generous traveller round him looks, amaz'd,
And wonders at our unexpected blifs.

But chief, Connecticut! on thy fair breast 215
These splendours glow. A rich improvement smiles
Around thy lovely borders; in thy fields
And all that in thy fields delighted dwell.
Here that pure, golden mean, so oft of yore
By fages wifh'd, and prais'd, by Agur's voice 220
Implor'd, while God th' approving fanction gave
Of wisdom infinite; that golden mean,
Shines unalloy'd; and here the extended good,
That mean alone secures, is ceafeleſs found.

Oh, would fome faithful, wife, laborious mind, 225
Develope all thy springs of blifs to man;
Soon would politic vifions fleet away,
Before awakening truth! Utopias then,
Ancient and new, high fraught with fairy good,
Would catch no more the heart. Philosophy 230
Would bow to common-fenſe; and man, from faſts,
And real life, politic wifdom learn.

C

( 18 )

Ah then, thou favour'd land, thyself revere!
Look not to Europe, for examples just
Of order, manners, customs, doctrines, laws,
Of happy boys, or virtue. Caft around
The eye of searching reason, and declare
What Europe proffers, but a patchwork fway;
The garment Gothic, worn to fritter'd shreds,
And eded from every loom of following times.
Such as his fway, the fyftem fows entire,
Of filly pomp, and meaneſs train'd t' adore;
Of wealth enormous, and enormous want;
Of lazy finecures, and suffering toil;
Of grey-beard fyſtems, and meteorous dreams;
Of lordly churches, and diffention fierce,
Rites farſical, and phrenzied unbelief.
See thick and fell her lowering gibbets ſtand,
And gibbets ſtill employ'd! while, through thy realms,
The rare-feen ſelon ſtartles every mind
And fills each mouth with news. Behold her jails
Countleſs, and ſtow'd with wretches of all kinds!
Her brothels, circling, with their tainted walls,
Unnumber'd female outcaſts, ſhorne from life,
Peace, penitence, and hope; and down, down plung'd
In vice' unbottom'd gulph! Ye demons, rife,
Rife, and look upward, from your dread abode;
And, if you've tears to shed, diſtil them here!
See too, in countleſs herds, the miſtrefs vile,
Even to the teeth of matron ſanctity,
Lift up her ſhameleſs bronze, and elbow out
The pure, the chafte, the lovely angel-form
Of female excellence! while leachers rank, and
Bloated, call aloud on vengeance' worms,
To feize their prey, on this fide of the grave.
See the foul theatre, with Upaz ſteams,
Impoſoning half mankind! See every heart
And head from dunghills up to thrones, moon'd high

( 19 )

With fashion, frippery, falling humbly down
To a new head-dress; barbers, milliners,
Taylors, and mantua-makers, forming gods,
Their fellow-millions worship! See the world
All fet to fale; truth, friendship, public trust,
A nation's weal, religion, fcripture, oaths,
Struck off by inch of candle! Mark the mien,
Out-changing the Cameleon; pleasing all,
And all deceiving! Mark the snaky tongue,
Now lightly vibrating, now hissing death!
See war, from year to year, from age to age,
Unceasing, open on mankind the gates
Of deva station; earth wet-deep with blood,
And pav'd with corpses; cities whelm'd in flames;
And fathers, brothers, husbands, sons, and friends,
In millions hurried to th' untimely tomb;
To gain a wigwam, built on Nootka Sound,
Or Falkland's fruitful isles; or to secure
That rare soap-bubble, blown by children wife,
Bloated in air, and ting'd with colours fine,
Purfu'd by thousands, and with rapture nam'd
National honour. But what powers suffice
To tell the fands, that form the endlefs beach,
Or drops, that fill the immeafurable deep.

Say then, ah say, would'ft thou for these exchange
Thy sacred institutions? thy mild laws?
Thy pure religion? morals uncorrupt? 295
Thy plain and honest manners? order, peace,
And general weal? Think whence this weal arose.
From the same springs it still shall ceafelefs rife.
Preserve the fountains sweet, and sweeteft streams
Shall still flow from them. Change, but change alone, 300
By wife improvement of thy bleffings rare;
And copy not from others. Shun the lures
Of Europe. Cherish still, watch, hold,

( 20 )

And hold through every trial, everyfnare,
All that is thine. Amend, refine, complete;
But still the glorious ftnamina retain.
Still, as of yore, in church, and ftate, elect
The virtuous, and the wife; men tried, and prov'd,
Of fteady virtue, all thy weal to guide;
And HEAVEN fhall blefs thee, with a parent's hand.

305

310

When round I turn my raptur'd eyes, with joy
O'erflowing, and thy wonderous blifs furvey,
I love to think of thofe, by whom that blifs
Was purchas'd; thofe firm councils, that brave band,
Who nobly jeoparded their lives, their all,
And crofs'd temptation's whirlpool, to fecure,
For us, and ours, this rich eftate of good.
Ye fouls illuftrious, who, in danger's field,
Inftin& with patriot fire, each terror brav'd;
And fix'd as thefe firm hills, the shock withftood
Of war's convulfing earthquake, unappall'd,
Whilft on your labours gaz'd, with reverent eyes,
The pleas'd and wondering world; let every good,
Life knows, let peace, eſteem, domeſtic blifs,
Approving confcience, and a grateful land,
Glory through every age, and Heaven at laft,
To crown the ſplendid ſcene, your toils reward.

315

320

325

Heavens, what a matchleſs group of beauties rare
Southward expands! where, crown'd with yon tall oak,
Round-hill the circling land and ſea o'erlooks;
Or, smoothly floping, Grover's beauteous rife,
Spreads it's green ſides, and lifts its ſingle tree,
Glad mark for ſeamen; or, with ruder face,
Orchards, and fields, and groves, and houſes rare,
And ſcatter'd cedars, Mill-hill meets the eye;
Or where, beyond, with every beauty clad,
More diſtant heights in vernal pride ascend.
On either ſide, a long, continued range,

330

335

( 21 )

In all the charms of rural nature drefs'd,
Slopes gently to the main. Ere Tryon funk
To infamy unfathom'd, thro' yon groves
Once glifter'd Norwalk's white-ascending fpires,
And soon, if HEAVEN permit, shall shine again.
Here, sky-encircled, Stratford's churches beam;
And Stratfield's turrets greet the roving eye.
In clear, full view, with every varied charm,
That forms the finish'd landschape, blending soft
In matchlefs union, Fairfield and Green's Farms
Give luftre to the day. Here, crown'd with pines

340

And skirting groves, with creeks and havens fair
Embellifsh'd, fed with many a beauteous stream,
Prince of the waves, and ocean's favorite child,
Far weftward fading in confusion blue,

350

And eastward stretch'd beyond the human ken,
And mingled with the sky, there Longa's Sound
Glorious expands. All hail! of waters first

In beauties of all kinds; in prospects rich
Of bays, and arms, and groves, and little streams,
Inchanting capes and ifles, and rivers broad,
That yield eternal tribute to thy wave!

355

In use supreme: fish of all kinds, all taftes,
Scaly or shell'd, with floating nations fill
Thy fpacious realms; while, o'er thy lucid waves,
Unceafing Commerce wings her countlefs fails.

360

Safe in thy arms, the treasure moves along,
While, beat by Longa's coast, old ocean roars
Diftant, but roars in vain. O'er all thy bounds,
What varied beauties, changing with the fun,

365

Or night's more lovely queen, here splendid glow.

Oft, on thy eastern wave, the orb of light
Refulgent rifing, kindles wide a field

370

Of mimic day, slow failing to the weft,
And fading with the eve; and oft, through clouds,
Painting their dark skirts on the glaffy plain,

( 22 )

The strong, pervading luftre marks th' expanſe,
With streaks of glowing filver, or with spots
Of burniſh'd gold; while clouds, of every hue,
Their purple ſhed, their amber, yellow, grey,
Along the faithful mirror. Oſt, at eve,
Thron'd in the eastern ſky, th' ascending moon,
Diſtain'd with blood, ſits awful o'er the wave,
And, from the dim dark waters, troubled calls
Her dreary image, trembling on the deep,
And boding every horror. Round yon ifles,
Where every Triton, every Nereid, borne
From eastern climes, would find perpetual home,
Were Grecian ſables true, what charms entrance
The ſaſcinated eye! where, half withdrawn
Behind yon vivid ſlope, like bluſhing maids,
They leave the raptur'd gaze. And O how fair
Bright Longa ſpreads her terminating ſhore,
Commix'd with whit'ning cliffs, with groves obſcure,
Farms ſhrunk to garden-beds, and ſoreths fallen
To little orchards, flow-aſcending hills,
And duſky vales, and plains! Theſe the pleas'd eye
Relieve, engage, delight; with one unchang'd,
Unbounded ocean, wearied, and diſpleas'd.

Yet ſcarce fix funs are paſs'd, ſince theſe wide bounds,
So ſtill ſo lovely now, were wanton'd o'er
By fails of British foes, with thunders dread
Announcing defolation to each field,
Each town, and hamlet; in the ſheltering night
Wafting bafe throngs of plunderers to our coaſt,
The bed of peace invading; herds and flocks
Purloining from the ſwain; and oft the houſe
Of innocence and peace, in cruel flames
With ſell revenge, encircling. Now, afar
With ſhame retir'd, his bands no more, no more
(And oh may HEAVEN the fond prediction ſeal)

( 23 )

Shall hoftile bands, from earth's extended bounds,
Th' infernal talk resume. Henceforth, through time,
To peace devoted, 'till millenian funs
Call forth returning Eden, arts of peace
Shall triumph here. Speed, oh speed, ye days
Of blifs divine! when all-involving HEAVEN,
The myftery finifh'd, come the ſecond birth
Of this fin-ruin'd, this apoſtate world,
And clos'd the final ſcene of wild miſrule,
All climes ſhall clothe again with life, and joy,
With peace, and purity; and deathleſs ſpring
Again commence her bright, ethereal reign.

O who can paint, like Nature ? who can boast
Such ſcenes, as here inchant the lingering eye ?
Still to thy hand, great parent of the year !
I turn obſequious; ſtill to all thy works
Of beauty, grandeur, novelty, and power,
Of motion, light, and life, my beating heart
Plays unifon; and, with harmonious thrill,
Inhales ſuch joys, as Avarice never knew.

Ah ! knew he but his happineſs, of men
Not the leaſt happy he, who, free from broils,
And bafe ambition, vain and buſt'ling pomp,
Amid a friendly cure, and competence,
Taſtes the pure pleaſures of parochial life.
What though no crowd of clients, at his gate,
To falſhood, and injuſtice, bribe his tongue,
And flatter into guilt; what though no bright,
And gilded ſproſpects lure ambition on
To legislative pride, or chair of ſtate;
What though no golden dreams entice his mind
To burrow, with the mole, in dirt, and mire;
What though no ſplendid villa, Eden'd round
With gardens of enchantment, walks of ſtate,
And all the grandeur of ſuperfluous wealth,

( 24 )

445

 Invite the paſſenger to stay his ſteed,
 And aſk the liveried foot-boy, “ who dwells here ?”
 What though no ſwarms, around his ſumptuous board,
 Of soothing flatterers, humming in the ſhine
 Of opulence, and honey, from its flowers,
 Devouring, ’till their time arrives to ſting,
 Inflate his mind; his virtues, round the year,
 Repeating, and his faults, with microscope
 Inverted, leſſen, ’till they ſteal from ſight:
 Yet, from the dire temptations, theſe preſent,
 His ſtate is free; temptations, few can ſtem; 455
 Temptations, by whose ſweeping torrent húr’d
 Down the dire ſteep of guilt, unceasing fall,
 Sad victims, thouſands of the brightest minds,
 That time’s dark reign adorn; minds, to whose graſp
 Heaven ſeems moſt freely offer’d; to man’s eye,
 Moſt hopeful candidates for angels’ joys.

460

His lot, that wealth, and power, and pride forbids,
Forbids him to become the tool of fraud,
Injuſtice, miſery, ruin; faves his ſoul
From all the needleſs labours, griefs, and cares,
That avarice, and ambition, agonize;
From thofe cold nerves of wealth, that, paſſed, feel
No anguſh, but its own; and ceaſeleſs lead
To thouſand meanneſſes, as gain allures.

455

Though oft compell’d to meet the groſs attack
470
Of ſhameleſs ridicule, and towering pride,
Sufficuent good is his; good, real, pure,
With guilt unmingled. Rarely forc’d from home,
Around his board, his wife and children ſmile;
Communion sweeteſt, nature here can give,
Each fond endearment, office of delight,
With love and duty blending. Such the joy,
My boſom oft has known. His, too, the taſk,
To rear the infant plants, that bud around;

( 25 )

To ope their little minds to truth's pure light;
To take them by the hand, and lead them on,
In that straight, narrow road, where virtue walks;
To guard them from a vain, deceiving world;
And point their course to realms of promis'd life.

His too th' esteem of thofe, who weekly hear
His words of truth divine; unnumber'd acts
Of real love attefting, to his eye,
Their filial tenderneſs. Where'er he walks,
The friendly welcome and inviting ſmile
Wait on his ſteps, and breathe a kindred joy.

Oft too in friendlieſt Affociation join'd,
He greets his brethren, with a flowing heart,
Flowing with virtue; all rejoic'd to meet,
And all reluctant parting; every aim,
Benevolent, aiding with purpose kind;
While, ſeaſon'd with unblemifh'd cheerfulneſs,
Far diſtant from the tainted mirth of vice,
Their hearts diſcloſe each contemplation ſweet
Of things divine; and blend in friendſhip pure,
Friendſhip ſublim'd by piety and love.

All virtue's friends are his: the good, the juſt,
The pious, to his houſe their viſits pay,
And converſe high hold of the true, the fair,
The wonderful, the moral, the divine:
Of ſaints, and prophets, patterns bright of truth,
Lent to a world of fin, to teach mankind,
How virtue, in that world, can live, and ſhine;
Of learning's varied realms; of Nature's works;
And that bleſs'd book, which gilds man's darkſome way,
With light from heaven; of bleſs'd Meſſiah's throne
And kingdom; propheſies divine fulfil'd,
And propheſies more glorious, yet to come,
In renovated days; of that bright world,

D

( 26 )

And all the happy trains, which that bright world
Inhabit, whither virtue's fons are gone :
While God the whole infpires, adorns, exalts,
The source, the end, the substance, and the foul.

515

This too the taſk, the bleſs'd, the uſeful taſk,
To' invigour order, juſtice, law, and rule;
Peace to extend, and bid contention ceaſe ;
To teach the words of life; to lead mankind
Back from the wild of guilt, and brink of woe,
To virtue's houſe and family; faith, hope,
And joy, t' infpire; to warm the foul,
With love to God, and man; to cheer the ſad,
To fix the doubting, rouſe the languid heart;
The wandering to reſtore; to ſpread with down,
The thorny bed of death; conſole the poor,
Departing mind, and aid its lingering wing.

520

525

To him, her choiceſt pages Truth expands,
Unceafing, where the foul-intrancing ſcenes,
Poetic ſiſtion boafs, are real all :
Where beauty, novelty, and grandeur, wear
Superior charms, and moral worlds unfold
Sublimities, tranſporting and divine.

530

535

Not all the ſcenes, Philosophy can boaſt,
Tho' them with nobler truths he ceaſeſs blends,
Compare with theſe. They, as they found the mind,
Still leave it; more inform'd, but not more wife.
Theſe wiser, nobler, better, make the man.

540

Thus every happy mean of ſolid good
His life, his ſtudies, and proſeffion yield.
With motives hourly new, each rolling day,
Allures, through wifdom's path, and truth's fair field,
His feet to yonder ſkies. Before him heaven
Shines bright, the ſcope ſublime of all his prayers,
The meed of every forrow, pain, and toil.

545

( 27 )

Then, O ye happy few! whom God allows
To stand his messengers, in this bad world,
And call mankind to virtue, weep no more,
Though pains and toils betide you: for what life,
On earth, from pains and toils was ever free?
When Wealth and Pride around you gaily spread
Their vain and transient splendour, envy not.
How oft (let virtue weep !) is this their all?
For you, in funny prospect, daily spring
Joys, which nor Pride can Tafe, nor Wealth can boast;
That, planted here, beyond the wintery grave
Revive and grow with ever vernal bloom.

550

555

Hail these, oh hail! and be 't enough for you,
To 'scape a world unclean; a life to lead
Of usefulneſs, and truth; a Prince to serve,
Who suffers no ſincere and humble toil
To mifs a rich reward; in Death's dark vale,
To meet unboſom'd light; beyond the grave
To rife triumphant, freed from every ſtain,
And cloth'd with every beauty; in the ſky
Stars to outshine; and, round th' eternal year,
With ſaints, with angels, and with CHRIST, to reign.

560

565

END OF THE FIRST PART.

( 32 )

How pleas'd, fond Recollection, with a smile,
Surveys the varied round of wintery toil !
How pleas'd, amid the flowers, that fcent the plain,
Recalls the vanish'd frost, and fleeted rain ;
The chilling damp, the ice-endangering street,
And treacherous earth that flump'd beneath the feet.

25

Yet even stern winter's glooms could joy infpire :
Then social circles grac'd the nutwood fire ;
The axe refounded, at the funny door;
The swain, induftrious, trimm'd his flaxen store;
Or thresh'd, with vigorous flail, the bounding wheat,
His poultry round him pilfering for their meat;
Or flid his firewood on the creaking snow;
Or bore his produce to the main below;
Or o'er his rich returns exulting laugh'd;
Or pledg'd the healthful orchard's sparkling draught:
While, on his board, for friends and neighbours spread,
The turkey fmoak'd, his busy houſewife fed;
And Hospitality look'd ſmiling round,
And Leifure told his tale, with gleeful found.

30

35

40

Then too, the rough road hid beneath the fleigh,
The diffant friend defpis'd a length of way,
And join'd the warm embrace, and mingling ſmile,
And told of all his blifs, and all his toil;
And, many a month elaps'd, was pleas'd to view
How well the houſhold far'd, the children grew;
While tales of ſympathy deceiv'd the hour,
And Sleep, amus'd, reſign'd his wonted power.

45

Yes! let the proud defpife, the rich deride,
These humble joys, to Competence allied :
To me, they bloom, all fragrant to my heart,
Nor ask the pomp of wealth, nor gloſs of art.
And as a bird, in prifon long confin'd,
Springs from his open'd cage, and mounts the wind,

50

( 33 )

Thro' fields of flowers, and fragrance, gaily flies,
Or re-affumes his birth-right, in the skies :

Unprifon'd thus from artificial joys,
Where pomp fatigues, and fuſsful ſashion cloys,
The foul, reviving, loves to wander free

Thro' native ſcenes of ſweet simplicity;
Thro' Peace' low vale, where Pleaſure lingers long,

And every ſongſter tunes his ſweeteſt ſong,
And Zephyr haſtes, to breathe his firſt perfume,
And Autumn ſtays, to drop his lateſt bloom :

'Till grown mature, and gathering ſtrength to roam,
She lifts her lengthen'd wings, and feeks her home.

But now the wintery glooms are vanish'd all;
The lingering drift behind the ſhady wall;
The dark-brown ſpots, that patch'd the ſnowy field;

The furly froſt, that every bud conceal'd;
The ruffet veil, the way with ſlime o'erſpread,
And all the faddening ſcenes of March are ſled.

Sweet-smiling village! lovelieſt of the hills!
How green thy groves! How pure thy glaſſy rills !

With what new joy, I walk thy verdant ſtreets!
How often paſſe, to breathe thy gale of ſweets;
To mark thy well-built walls! thy budding fields !

And every charm, that rural nature yields;
And every joy, to Competence allied,
And every good, that Virtue gains from Pride !

No griping landlord here alarms the door,
To halve, for rent, the poor man's little ſtore.
No haughty owner drives the humble ſwain
To ſome far refuge from his dread domain;
Nor waſtes, upon his robe of uſeleſs pride,
The wealth, which ſhivering thouſands want beſide;
Nor in one palace ſinks a hundred cots;
Nor in one manor drowns a thouſand lots;

E

( 34 )

Nor, on one table, spread for death and pain,
Devours what would a village well suftain.

90

O Competence, thou blefs'd by Heaven's decree,
How well exchang'd is empty pride for thee!
Oft to thy cot my feet delighted turn,
To meet thy chearful smile, at peep of morn;
To join thy toils, that bid the earth look gay;
To mark thy sports, that hail the eve of May;
To fee thy ruddy children, at thy board,
And share thy temperate meal, and frugal hoard;
And every joy, by winning prattlers giv'n,
And every earneſt of a future Heaven.

95

100

There the poor wanderer finds a table spread,
The fireſide welcome, and the peaceful bed.
The needy neighbour, oft by wealth denied,
There finds the little aids of life ſupplied;
The horſe, that bears to mill the hard-earn'd grain;
The day's work given, to reap the ripen'd plain;
The useful team, to houſe the precious food,
And all the offices of real good.

105

There too, divine Religion is a gueſt,
And all the Virtues join the daily ſeaſt.
Kind Hofpitality attends the door,
To welcome in the ſtranger and the poor;
Sweet Chaſtity, ſtill bluſhing as the goes;
And Patience ſmiling at her train of woes;
And meek-eyed Innocence, and Truth refin'd,
And Fortitude, of bold, but gentle mind.

110

115

Thou pay'ſt the tax, the rich man will not pay;
Thou feed'ſt the poor, the rich man drives away.
Thy ſons, for freedom, hazard limbs, and life,
While pride applauds, but ſhuns the manly ſtrife:
Thou prop'ſt religion's cauſe, the world around,
And ſhew'ſt thy faith in works, and not in found.

120

( 35 )

Say, child of passion! while, with idiot stare,
Thou feest proud grandeur wheel her funny car;
While kings, and nobles, roll befpangled by,
And the tall palace leffens in the sky;
Say, while with pomp thy giddy brain runs round,
What joys, like thefe, in fplendour can be found?
Ah, yonder turn thy wealth-inchanted eyes,
Where that poor, friendlefs wretch expiring lies!
Hear his fad partner fhriek, befide his bed,
And call down curfes on her landlord's head,
Who drove, from yon small cot, her household fweet,
To pine with want, and perifh in the ftreet.
See the pale tradesman toil, the livelong day,
To deck imperious lords, who never pay!
Who waſte, at dice, their boundleſs breadth of foil,
But grudge the ſcanty meed of honefi toil.
See hounds and horſes riot on the ſtore,
By HEAVEN created for the hapleſs poor!
See half a realm one tyrant ſcarce ſuſtain,
While meagre thoufands round him glean the plain!
See, for his miſtrefſs' robe, a village fold,
Whofe matrons ſhrink from nakedneſs and cold!
See too the Farmer prowl around the ſhed,
To rob the ſtarving household of their bread;
And feize, with cruel fangs, the helpleſs ſwain,
While wives, and daughters, plead, and weep, in vain;
Or yield to infamy themſelves, to fave
Their fire from prifon, famine, and the grave.

There too foul luxury taints the putrid mind,
And ſlavery there imbrutes the reafoning kind:
There humble worth, in damps of deep defpair,
Is bound by poverty's eternal bar:
No motives bright the etherial aim impart,
Nor one fair ray of hope allures the heart.

But, O fweet Competence! how chang'd the ſcene,
Where thy soft footſteps lightly print the green!

{ 36 }

Where Freedom walks erect, with manly port,
And all the blessings to his side resort,
In every hamlet, Learning builds her schools,
And beggars, children gain her arts, and rules;
And mild Simplicity o'er manners reigns,
And blamelefs morals Purity fuftains.

160

From thee the rich enjoyments round me spring,
Where every farmer reigns a little king;
Where all to comfort, none to danger, rife;
Where pride finds few, but nature all supplies;
Where peace and sweet civility are seen,
And meek good-neighbourhood endears the green.
Here every clafs (if classes thofe we call,
Where one extended clafs embraces all,
All mingling, as the rainbow's beauty blends,
Unknown where every hue begins or ends)
Each following, each, with uninvidious strife,
Wears every feature of improving life.

165

170

175

Each gains from other comelineſs of drefs,
And learns, with gentle mein to win and bleſs,
With welcome mild the stranger to receive,
And with plain, pleafing decency to live.

180

Refinement hence even humbleſt life improves;
Not the loose fair, that form and frippery loves;
But ſhe, whose manſion is the gentle mind,
In thought, and action, virtuouſly refin'd.

Hence, wives and husbands act a lovelier part,
More juſt the conduct, and more kind the heart;
Hence brother, filter, parent, child, and friend,
The harmony of life more sweetly blend;

185

Hence labour brightens every rural ſcene;
Hence cheerful plenty lives along the green;
Still Prudence eyes her hoard, with watchful care,
And robes of thrift and neatneſs, all things wear.

190

But hark! what voice so gaily fills the wind?
Of care oblivious, whose that laughing mind?

( 37 )

'Tis yon poor black, who ceafes now his fong,
And whiftling, drives the cumbrous wain along.
He never, dragg'd, with groans, the galling chain;
Nor hung, fuspended, on th' infernal crane;
No dim, white spots deform his face, or hand,
Memorials hellifh of the marking brand!
No feams of pincers, fears of fcalding oil;
No waſte of famine, and no wear of toil.
But kindly fed, and clad, and treated, he
Slides on, thro' life, with more than common glee.
For here mild manners good to all impart,
And ſtamp with infamy th' unfeeling heart;
Here law, from vengeful rage, the ſlave defends,
And here the goſpel peace on earth extends.

He toils, 'tis true; but ſhares his maſter's toil;
With him, he feeds the herd, and trims the foil;
Helps to ſuſtain the houſe, with clothes, and food,
And takes his portion of the common good:
Loft liberty his ſole, peculiar ill,
And fix'd ſubmiſſion to another's will.
Ill, ah, how great! without that cheering ſun,
The world is chang'd to one wide, frigid zone;
The mind, a chill'd exotic, cannot grow,
Nor leaf with vigour, nor with promife blow;
Pale, fickly, ſhrunk, it ſtrives in vain to rife,
Scarce lives, while living, and untimely dies.

See fresh to life the Afric infant ſpring,
And plume its powers, and ſpread its little wing!
Firm is it's frame, and vigorous is its mind,
Too young to think, and yet to miſery blind.
But ſoon he fees himſelf to ſlavery born;
Soon meets the voice of power, the eye of ſcorn;
Sighs for the bleſſings of his peers, in vain;
Condition'd as a brute, tho' form'd a man.

( 38 )

Around he casts his fond, instinctive eyes,
And sees no good, to fill his wishes, rise :
(No motive warms, with animating beam,
Nor praise, nor property, nor kind esteem,
Blefs'd independence, on his native ground,
Nor sweet equality with those around ;)

Himself, and his, another's shrinks to find,
Levell'd below the lot of human kind.
Thus, fbut from honour's paths, he turns to shame,
And filches the small good, he cannot claim.

To four, and ftupid, finks his active mind ;
Finds joys in drink, he cannot elsewhere find ;

Rule diſobeyſ; of half his labour cheaſ ;
In ſome ſafe cot, the pilfer'd turkey eats ;
Rides hard, by night, the ſteed, his art purloins ;

Serene from confidence bar himſelf eſſoins ;
Sees from himſelf his ſole redrefs muſt flow,

And makes revenge the balfam of his woe.
Thus ſlavery's blast bids ſenſe and virtue die;

Thus lower'd to duſt the ſons of Afric lie.
Hence ſages grave, to lunar ſystems given,
Shall aſk, why two-legg'd brutes were made by HEAVEN; 250
HOME ſeeſ, what pair firſt peopled Afric's vales,
And nice MONBODDO calculate their tails.

O thou chief curſe, ſince curſes here began ;
Firſt guilt, firſt woe, firſt infamy of man ;
Thou ſpot of hell, deep ſmirch'd on human kind,
The uncur'd gangrene of the reaſoning mind ;
Alike in church, in ſtate, and household all,
Supreme memorial of the world's dread fall ;
O ſlavery ! laurel of the Infernal mind,
Proud Satan's triumph over loft mankind !

See the fell Spirit mount his footy car !
While Hell's black trump proclaims the finish'd war ;
Her choiceſt ſiends his wheels exulting draw,
And ſcream the fall of God's moſt holy law.

( 39 )

In dread proceffion fee the pomp begin,
265
Sad pomp of woe, of madneſs, and of fin !
Grav'd on the chariot, all earth's ages roll,
And all her climes, and realms, to either pole.
Fierce in the flash of arms, fee Europe ſpread !
Her jails, and gibbets, fleets, and hoſts, diſplay'd !
270
Awe-truck, fee ſilken Afia ſilent bow !
And feeble Afric writhe in blood below !
Before, peace, freedom, virtue, blifs, move on,
The ſpoils, the treaſures, of a world undone ;
Behind, earth's bedlam millions clank the chain,
Hymn their diſgrace, and celebrate their pain ;
Kings, nobles, prieſts, dread ſenate ! lead the van,
And fhout “Te-Deum!” o'er defeated man.
275

Oft, wing'd by thought, I feek thofe Indian ifles,
Where endleſs ſpring, with endleſs ſummer ſmiles,
280
Where fruits of gold untir'd Vertumnus pours,
And Flora dances o'er undying flowers.
There, as I walk thro' fields, as Eden gay,
And breathe the incenſe of immortal May,
Ceafeleſs I hear the ſmacking whip ſeound;
Hark ! that ſhrill ſcream ! that groan of death-bed ſound !
See thofe throng'd wretches pant along the plain,
Tug the hard hoe, and ſigh in hopeleſs pain !
Yon mother, loaded with her fucking child,
Her rags with frequent ſpots of blood deſil'd,
Drags flowly fainting on; the fiend is nigh;
Rings the ſhrill cowſkin; roars the tyger-cry;
In pangs, th' unfriended ſuppliant crawls along,
And ſhrieks the prayer of agonizing wrong.
290

Why glows yon oven with a ſevenfold fire ?
Crisp'd in the flames, behold a man expire !
Lo ! by that vampyre's hand, yon infant dies,
It's brains daſh'd out, beneath it's father's eyes.
295

( 40 )

Why shrinks yon slave, with horror, from his meat?
Heavens ! 'tis his flesh, the wretch is whipp'd to eat. 300
Why streams the life-blood from that female's throat?
She sprinkled gravy on a guest's new coat !

Why croud those quivering blacks yon dock around? 305
Those screams announce; that cowkin's thrilling found.
See, that poor victim hanging from the crane,
While loaded weights his limbs to torture strain;
At each keen stroke, far spouts the burfing gore,
And shrieks, and dying groans, fill all the shore. 310
Around, in throngs, his brother-victims wait,
And feel, in every stroke, their coming fate;
While each, with palfied hands, and shuddering fears,
The cause, the rule, and price, of torment bears.

Hark, hark, from morn to night, the realm around, 315
The cracking whip, keen taunt, and shriek, refound!
O'ercast are all the splendors of the spring;
Sweets court in vain; in vain the warblers sing;
Illusions all! 'tis Tartarus round me spreads
His dismal screams, and melancholy shades. 320
The damned, fure, here clank th' eternal chain,
And waste with grief, or agonize with pain.
A Tartarus new! inversion strange of hell!
Guilt wreaks the vengeance, and the guiltless feel. 325
The heart, not form'd of flint, here all things rend;
Each fair a fury, and each man a fiend;
From childhood, train'd to every baleful ill,
And their first sport, to torture, and to kill.

Ask not, why earthquakes rock that fateful land;
Fires waste the city; ocean whelms the strand; 330
Why the fierce whirlwind, with electric fway,
Springs from the storm, and fastens on his prey,

( 41 )

Shakes heaven, rends earth, upheaves the cumbrous wave,
And with destruction's befom fills the grave:

Why dark difeafe roams swift her nightly round,
Knocks at each door, and wakes the gasping found.

Afk, fhuddering afk, why, earth-emboſom'd ſleep
The unbroken fountains of the angry deep:

Why, bound, and furnac'd, by the globe's ſtrong frame,
In fullen quiet, waits the final flame:

Why ſurge not, o'er yon ifles it's ſpouting fires,
'Till all their living world in duſt expires.

Crimes found their ruin's moral caufe aloud,
And all heaven, fighting, rings with cries of brother's blood.

Befide yon church, that beams a modeſt ray,

With tidy neatneſs reputably gay,
When, mild and fair, as Eden's ſeventh-day light,

In filver ſilence, ſhines the Sabbath bright,
In neat attire, the village hoſholds come,
And learn the path-way to the eternal home.

Hail ſolemn ordinance! worthy of the SKIES;

Whence thouſand richeſt bleſſings daily rife;

Peace, order, cleanlineſs, and manners ſweet,
A ſober mind, to rule ſubmiſſion meet,

Enlarging knowledge, life from guilt refin'd,
And love to God, and friendſhip to mankind.

In the clear ſplendour of thy vernal morn,
New-quicken'd man to light, and life, is born;

The defert of the mind with virtue blooms;

It's flowers unfold, it's fruits exhale perfumes;

Proud guilt diffolves, beneath the ſearching ray,
And low debaſement, trembling, creeps away;

Vice bites the duſt; foul Error feeks her den;

And God, descending, dwells anew with men.

Where yonder humbler ſpire falutes the eye,

It's vane flow turning in the liquid ſky,

F

( 42 )

Where, in light gambols, healthy ſtriplings sport,
Ambitious learning builds her outer court;
A grave preceptor, there, her uſher ſtands,
And rules, without a rod, her little bands.
Some half-grown ſprigs of learning grac'd his brow:
Little he knew, though much he wuſh'd to know,
Inchanted hung o'er Virgil's honey'd lay,
And ſmil'd, to fee deſpient Horace play;
Glean'd ſcraps of Greek; and, curious, trac'd afar,
Through Pope's clear glaſs, the bright Mæonian ſtar.
Yet oft his ſtudents at his wuſdom ſtar'd,
For many a ſtudent to his ſide repair'd,
Surpriz'd, they heard him Dilworth's knots untie,
And tell, what lands beyond the Atlantic lie.

370

375

380

Many his faults; his virtues ſmall, and few;
Some little good he did, or ſtrove to do;
Laborious ſtill, he taught the early mind,
And urg'd to manners meek, and thoughts refin'd;
Truth he impreſs'd, and every virtue prais'd;
While infant eyes, in wondering ſilence, gaz'd;
The worth of time would, day by day, unfold,
And tell them, every hour was made of gold.
Brown Induſtry he lov'd; and oft declar'd
How hardy Sloth, in life's ſad evening, far'd;
Through grave examples, with ſage meaning, ran,
Whiſt was each form, and thus the tale began.

385

390

" Before you lonely tree, whose branches bare
Rife white, and murmur to the paffing air,
There, where the twining briars the yard encloſe,
The houſe of Sloth ſtands huff'd in long repofe."

395

" In a late round of ſolitary care,
My feet inſtinct to rove, they knew not where,
I thither came. With yellow bloſſoms gay,
The tall rank weed begirt the tangled way:

400

( 43 )

Curious to view, I fore'd a path between,
And climb'd the broken ftile, and gaz'd the fcene."

" O'er an old well, the curb half-fallen fspread,
Whofe boards, end-loofe, a mournful creaking made;
Poiz'd on a leaning poft, and ill-fuftain'd,
In ruin fad, a mouldering fwepe remain'd;
Uſeleſs, the crooked pole ſtill dangling hung,
And, tied with thumbs, a broken bucket fwung."

405

" A half-made wall around the garden lay,
Mended, in gaps, with brufhwood in decay.

410

No culture through the woven briars was ſeen,
Save a few fickly plants of faded green :
The ſtarv'd potatoe hung it's blaſted feeds,
And fennel ſtruggled to o'ertop the weeds.

There gaz'd a ragged ſheep, with wild ſurprife,
And too lean geefe upturn'd their ſlanting eyes."

415

" The cottage gap'd, with many a diſmal yawn,
Where, rent to burn, the covering boards were gone;
Or, by one nail, where others endwife hung,
The ſky look'd thro', and winds portentous rung.
In waves, the yielding roof appear'd to run,
And half the chimney-top was fallen down."

420

" The ancient cellar-door, of ſtructure rude,
With tatter'd garments calk'd, half open ſtood.
There, as I peep'd, I ſaw the ruin'd bin;
The fills were broke; the wall had crumbled in;
A few, long-emptied caſks lay mouldering round,
And waſted aſhes sprinkled o'er the ground;
While, a ſad ſharer in the household ill,
A half-ſtarv'd rat crawl'd out, and bade farewell."

425

430

" One window dim, a loop-hole to the fight,
Shed round the room a pale, penurious light;

( 44 )

Here rags gay-colour'd eked the broken glafs;
There panes of wood fupplied the vacant fpace."

" As, pondering deep, I gaz'd, with gritty roar, 435
The hinges creak'd, and open ftood the door.
Two little boys, half-naked from the waift,
With ftaring wonder, ey'd me, as I pafs'd.
The fmile of Pity blended with her tear—
Ah me! how rarely Comfort vifits here!" 440

" On a lean hammoc, once with feathers fill'd,
His limbs by dirty tatters ill conceal'd,
Tho' now the fun had rounded half the day,
Stretch'd at full length, the lounger fnoring lay:
While his fad wife, befide her dreffer ftood, 445
And waft'd her hungry household's meagre food,
His aged fire, whose beard, and flowing hair,
Wav'd filvery, o'er his antiquated chair,
Rofe from his feat; and, as he watch'd my eye,
Deep from his bofom heav'd a mournful figh— 450
" Stranger, he cried, once better days I knew ;"
And, trembling, fhed the venerable dew.
I wifh'd a kind reply; but wifh'd in vain;
No words came timely to relieve my pain:
To the poor parent, and her infants dear, 455
'Two mites I gave, befprinkled with a tear;
And, fix'd again to fee the wretched fhed,
Withdrew in filence, clos'd the door, and fled."

" Yet this so lazy man I've often feen
Hurrying, and buftling, round the busy green; 460
'The loudeft prater, in a blacksmith's fhop;
The wifef tstatefman, o'er a drunken cup;
(His fharp-bon'd horfe, the fstreet that nightly fed,
Tied, many an hour, in yonder tavern-fhed)
In every gambling, racing match, abroad: 465
But a rare hearer, in the house of God."

( 45 )

"Such, fuch, my children, is the difmal eot,
Where drowfy Sloth receives her wretched lot:
But O how different is the charming cell,
Where Induſtry and Virtue love to dwell!" 470

"Beyond that hillock, topp'd with ſcatter'd trees,
That meet, with fresheſt green, the haſtening breeze,
There, where the glaſſy brook reflects the day,
Nor weeds, nor ſedges, choke its cryſtal way,
Where budding willows feel the earlieſt ſpring, 475
And wonted red-breaths faſely neſt, and ſing,
A female Worthy lives; and all the poor
Can point the way to her ſequeſter'd door."

"She, unfedue'd by drefs and idle ſhew,
The forms, and rules, of ſaſhion never knew; 480
Nor glittering in the ball, her form diſplay'd;
Nor yet can tell a diamond, from a ſpade.
Far other objects claim'd her ſteady care;
The morning chapter, and the nightly prayer;
The frequent viſit to the poor man's ſhed; 485
The wakeful nurſing, at the ſick man's bed;
Each day, to rife, before the early fun;
Each day, to fee her daily duty done;
To cheer the partner of her houſhold cares,
And mould her children, from their earlieſt years. 490

"Small is her houſe; but fill'd with ſtores of good;
Good, earn'd with toil, and with delight beſtow'd.
In the clean cellar, rang'd in order neat,
Gay-smiling Plenty boaſts her caſks of meat,
Points, to ſmall eyes, the bins where apples glow, 495
And marks her cyder-butts, in ſtately row.
Her granary, fill'd with harveſt's various pride,
Still fees the poor man's bufhel laid afide;
Here ſwells the ſlaxen, there the fleecy ſtore,
And the long wood-pile mocks the winter's power: 500

( 46 )

White are the twine; the poultry plump and large;
For every creature thrives, beneath her charge."

"Plenteous, and plain, the furniture is seen;
All form'd for use, and all as silver clean.
On the clean dreffer, pewter shines arow;
The clean-cower'd bowls are trimly fet below;
While the wath'd coverlet, and linen white,
Affure the traveller a refreshing night."

"Oft have I seen, and oft still hope to see,
This friend, this parent to the poor and me,
Tho' bent with years, and toil, and care, and woe,
Age lightly silver'd on her furrow'd brow,
Her frame still useful, and her mind still young,
Her judgment vigorous, and her memory strong,
Serene her spirits, and her temper sweet,
And pleas'd the youthful circle still to meet,
Cheerful, the long-accustomed talk purfue,
Prevent the ruft of age, and life renew;
To church, still pleas'd, and able still, to come,
And shame the lounging youth, who sleep at home."

"Such as her toils, has been the bright reward;
For Heaven will always toils like these regard.
Safe, on her love, her truth and wisdom tried,
Her husband's heart, thro' lengthened life, relied;
From little, daily saw his wealth increafe,
His neighbours love him, and his household blefs;
In peace and plenty liv'd, and died resign'd,
And, dying, left fix thousand pounds behind.
Her children, train'd to usefulnefs alone,
Still love the hand, which led them kindly on,
With pious duty, own her wife beheft,
And, every day, rife up, and call her blefs'd."

"More would ye know, of each poor hind enquire,
Who fees no fun go down upon his hire;

( 47 )

A cheerful witneſs, bid each neighbour come;
Aſk each ſad wanderer, where he finds a home;
His tribute even the vileſt wretch will give,
And praiſe the uſeful life, he will not live."

535

" Oft have the prattlers, God to me has giv'n,
The flock, I hope, and ſtrive, to train for Heaven,
With little footsteps, ſought her manſion dear,
To meet the welcome, given with heart ſincere;
And cheer'd with all, that early minds can move,
The ſmiles of gentlenefs, and acts of love,
At home, in lifping tales, her worth diſplay'd,
And pour'd their infant bleſſings on her head."

540

" Ye kings, of pomp, ye nobles proud of blood,
Heroes of arms, of ſcience ſages proud!
Read, bluſh, and weep, to fee, with all your ſtore,
Fame, genius, knowledge, bravery, wealth, and power,
Crown'd, laurell'd, worſhipp'd, gods beneath the ſun,
Far leſs of real good enjoy'd, or done."

550

Such leſſons, pleas'd, he taught. The precepts new
Oſt the young train to early wifdom drew;
And, when his influence willing minds confefs'd,
The children lov'd him, and the parents bleſs'd;
But, when by ſoft indulgence led aſtray,
His pupil's hearts had learn'd the idle way,
Tho' conſtant, kind, and hard, his toils had been,
For all thofe toils, ſmall thanks had he, I ween.

555

560

Behold yon humbler manſion lift its head!
Where infant minds to ſcience door are led.
As now, by kind indulgence loofs'd to play,
From place to place, from ſport to ſport, they aſtray,
How light their gambols frolic o'er the green!
How their ſ thrill voices cheer the rural ſcene!
Sweet harmleſs elves! in Freedom's household born,
Enjoy the raptures of your tranſient morn;

565

( 48 )

And let no hour of anxious manhood see
Your minds lefs innocent, or blefs'd, or free!

570

See too, in every hamlet, round me rife
A central school-houſe, drefſ'd in modeſt guife !
Where every child for uſeful life prepares,
To buſineſs moulded, ere he knows its cares;
In worth matures, to independence grows,
And twines the civic garland o'er his brows.

575

Mark, how invited by the vernal ſky,
Yon cheerful group of females paffes by !
Whofe hearts, attun'd to ſocial joy, prepare
A friendly viſit to ſome neighbouring fair.
How neatneſs gliftens from the lovely train !
Bright charm ! which pomp to rival tries in vain.

580

Ye Mufes ! dames of dignified renown,
Rever'd alike in country, and in town,
Your bard the myſteries of a viſit ſhow;
For ſure your Ladyſhips thoſe myſteries know :
What is it then, obliging Sifters ! ſay,
The debt of ſocial viſiting to pay ?

585

'Tis not to toil before the idol pier;
To ſhine the firſt in ſaſhion's lunar ſphere;
By ſad engagements ſore'd, abroad to roam,
And dread to find the expecting fair, at home!

590

To ſtop at thirty doors, in half a day,
Drop the gilt card, and proudly roll away;

To alight, and yield the hand, with nice parade;
Up ſtairs to ruſtle in the ſtiff brocade;

595

Swim thro' the drawing room, with ſtudied air;
Catch the pink'd beau, and ſhade the rival fair;

To fit, to curb, to toſs, with bridled mien,

Mince the ſcant ſpeech, and loſe a glance between;
Unfurl the fan, diſplay the ſnowy arm,

600

And ope, with each new motion, ſome new charm:

{ 49 }

Or fit, in silent solitude, to spy
Each little failing, with malignant eye;
Or chatter, with incontinence of tongue,
Careles, if kind, or cruel, right, or wrong;
To trill of us, and ours, of mine, and me,
Our house, our coach, our friends, our family,
While all th' excluded circle fit in pain,
And glance their cool contempt, or keen disdain:
T' inhale, from proud Nanking, a sip of tea,
And wave a curtsay trim, and flirt away:
Or waste, at cards, peace, temper, health and life,
Begin with fullenefs, and end in strife,
Lose the rich feast, by friendly converse given,
And backward turn from happineſs, and heaven.

605

610

615

It is, in decent habit, plain and neat,
To ſpend a few choice hours, in converſe sweet;
Careleſs of forms, to act th' unstudied part,
To mix in friendſhip, and to blend the heart;
To choose thate happy themes, which all muſt feel,
The moral duties, and the household weal,
The tale of ſympathy, the kind deſign,
Where rich affections soften, and refine;
T' amufe, to be amus'd, to bleſs, be bleſs'd,
And tune to harmony the common breaſt;
To cheer, with mild good-humour's ſprightly ray,
And ſmooth life's paſſage, o'er its thorny way;
To circle round the hoſpitable board,
And taſte each good, our generous climes afford;
To court a quick return, with accents kind,
And leave, at parting, ſome regret behind.

620

625

630

Such, here, the ſocial intercourſe is found;
So ſlides the year, in ſmooth enjoyment, round.

Thrice bleſs'd the life, in this glad region ſpent,
In peace, in competence, and ſtill content;

635

G

( 50 )

Where bright, and brighter, all things daily smile,
And rare and scanty, flow the streams of ill;
Where undecaying youth fits blooming round,
And Spring looks lovely on the happy ground;
Improvement glows, along life's cheerful way,
And with soft luftre makes the paflage gay.
Thus oft, on yonder Sound, when evening gales
Breath'd e'or th' expanſe, and gently fill'd the fails,
The world was ſtill, the heavens were drefs'd in ſmiles,
And the clear moon-beam tipp'd the diſtant ifles,
On the blue plain a lucid image gave,
And capp'd, with filver light, each little wave;
The ſilent ſplendour, floating at our ſide,
Mov'd as we mov'd, and wanton'd on the tide;
While ſhadowy points, and havens, met the eye,
And the faint-glimmering landmark told us home was nigh.

Ah, dire reverſe! in yonder eaftern clime,
Where heavy drags the fluggifh car of time;
The world unalter'd by the change of years,
Age after age, the fame dull aspect wears;
On the bold mind the weight of ſyftem ſpread,
Reſiftleſs lies, a cumbrous load of lead;
One beaten courſe, the wheels politic keep,
And ſlaves of cuſtom, loſe their woes in ſleep;
Stagnant is ſocial life; no bright deſign,
Quickens the floth, or checks the ſad decline.
The friend of man caſts round a wiſhful eye,
And hopes, in vain, improving ſcenes to ſpy;
Slow o'er his head, the dragging moments roll,
And damp each cheerful purpofe of the ſoul.

Thus the bewilder'd traveller, forc'd to roam
Through a lone forest, leaves his friends, and home;
Dun evening hangs the ſky; the woods around
Join their dun umbrage o'er the ruffet ground;
At every ſtep, new gloom inſhrouds the ſkies;
His path grows doubtful, and his fears arife:

( 51 )

No woodland fongstrefls soothes his mournful way;
No taper gilds the gloom with cheering ray;
On the cold earth he laps his head forlorn,
And watching, looks, and looks, to spy the lingering morn.

And when new regions prompt their feet to roam,
And fix, in untrod fields, another home,
No dreary realms our happy race explore,
Nor mourn their exile from their native shore.
For there no endlefs frofts the glebe deform,
Nor blows, with icy breath, perpetual storm:
No wrathful funs, with fickly fplendour glare,
Nor moors, impoifon'd, taint the balmy air,
But medial climates change the healthful year;
Pure fstreamlets wind, and gales of Eden cheer;
In mifty pomp the sky-topp'd mountains stand,
And with green bosom humbler hills expand:
With flowery brilliance smiles the woodland glade;
Full teems the foil, and fragrant twines the shade.
There cheaper fields the numerous household charm,
And the glad fire gives every fon a farm;
In falling forefts, Labour's axe refounds;
Opes the new field; and wind the fence's bounds;
The green wheat sparkles; nods the towering corn;
And meads, and paftures, leffening waftes adorn.
Where howl'd the foreft, herds unnumber'd low;
The fleecy wanderers fear no prowling foe;
The village springs; the humble school aspires;
And the church brightens in the morning fires!
Young Freedom wantons; Art exalts her head;
And infant Science prattles through the shade.
There changing neighbours learn their manners mild;
And toil and prudence drefs th' improving wild:
The favage shrinks, nor dares the blifs annoy;
And the glad traveller wonders at the joy.

( 52 )

All hail, thou western world! by heaven design'd
Th' example bright, to renovate mankind.
Soon shall thy sons acrofs the mainland roam;
And claim, on far Pacific shores, their home;
Their rule, religion, manners, arts, convey,
And spread their freedom to the Asian sea.
Where erst fix thousand funs have roll'd the year
O'er plains of slaughter, and o'er wilds of fear,
Towns, cities, fanes, shall lift their towery pride;
The village bloom, on every streamlets side;
Proud Commerce, mole the western furges lave;
The long, white spire lie imag'd on the wave;
O'er morn's pellucid main expand their fails,
And the star'd ensign court Korean gales.
Then nobler thoughts shall savage trains inform;
Then barbarous passions cease the heart to storm:
No more the captive circling flames devour;
Through the war path the Indian creep no more;
No midnight scout the slumbering village fire;
Nor the scalp'd infant stain his gasping fire:
But peace, and truth, illume the twilight mind,
The gofpel's funfhine, and the purpose kind.
Where marshes teem'd with death, shall meads unfold;
Untrodden cliffs resign their stores of gold;
The dance refin'd on Albion's margin move,
And her lone bowers rehear the tale of love.
Where flept perennial night, shall science rife,
And new-born Oxfords cheer the evening skies;
Miltonic strains the Mexic hills prolong,
And Louis murmurs to Sicilian fong.

Then to new climes the blifs shall trace its way,
And Tartar defarts hail the rifting day;
From the long torpor startled China wake;
Her chains of misery rous'd Peruvia break;

( 66 )

The vengeance pour'd of wafting flame,
And blacken'd man with endlefs fhame,

20

Long had the Briton, round our coaſt,
His bolts in every haven toſs'd,
Unceafing ſpread the trump's alarms,
And call'd the fwains to daily arms.

Succeſs his wilder'd eye had charm'd,
And hope with ſtrong pulſations warm'd,
And pride, with eagle pinion, borne
Far in the blaze of ſplendid morn.

With brighteſt beams, as rainbows rife.
To funs, departing from the ſkies,
As morn, in April's faireſt form,
Is quench'd, and buried, in the ſtorm;
So brighter all his proſpects ſpread,
Juſt as the gay enchantment fled.

25

His efforts clos'd in ſhame forlorn;
His pride provok'd the taunt of ſcorn;
Sunbright, the tranſient meteor ſhone,
And darker left the world, when gone,

35

Soft roſe the fummer's mildeſt morn;
To yonder beach his fleet was borne;
His canvas ſwell'd, his flag, unfurl'd,
Hung ruin o'er the western world.

40

Then forth his thickening thouſands came;
Their armour pour'd an eager flame,
Confuſion fill'd the realm around;
The reaper left his ſheaf unbound;
The farmer, flying, dropp'd his goad,
His oxen yok'd before the load;

45

His plough the unfiniſh'd furrow held,
And flocks unguided roam'd the field.

Forth from his ſhop the tradeſman ſlew,
His muſket ſeizing, to purſue;

50

From every houſe, the hurried fwains,
Tumultuous, throng'd the buſt'ling plains;

( 67 )

At race, the croffing fteeds were seen,
And crowds ftood cluſtering on the green.

55

Aghaſt the wretcked townſmen fled;
The youth with nimble vigour ſped;
The virgin, wild with throbbing woe,
Flew ſwift, and ſwifter, from the foe;
Pale Age flow totter'd on behind,
His white hair ſtreaming in the wind;
The boy, with little footſteps, hied,
And hung upon his grandſire's ſide.
Clap'd cloſe, and cheriſh'd at her breaſt,
Her new-born babe the mother preſs'd;
Oft toward the town was glanc'd her eye,
And oft ſhe liften'd to the cry—
" Hafte, hafte, my babes! the foe draws near;
Fly, left he ſlay my children here"—
Around, the affriqhted charmers ſcower'd,
And ſcream'd, as fierce the cannons roar'd.

60

65

70

The pair, beyond expression lov'd,
Apart, with lingering anguifh, mov'd :
He toward the war reluctant drew;
She wav'd the long and laſt adieu.

75

Through every field, and copſe, aſtray,
The unfriended mourners trac'd their way,
That refuge in the waſte to find,
Denied them by the human kind :
While waggons bore, behind the throng,
The tythe of furniture along.

80

Meantime, in combat's ridgy van,
Dark-lowering, man confronted man;
Tempeſtuous, hoſt with hoſt engag'd;
The ſhout of thundering onſet rag'd;
The cannon burſt; the mufquet roar'd;
Long, ſmoky folds through ether pour'd;

85

( 68 )

Loud rose the uproar wild; around,
The world all trembled, at the found:
Now hollow groan'd the victim's cries,
And now thrill victory fill'd the skies.

But ah! the rude Columbian hoft
Nor leaders, arms, nor fkill, could boast;
To war untrain'd, they feebly bore
The phalanx firm of veteran power,
Scatter'd to neighbouring hills away,
And gave the scarce-disputed day.

Yet, though in battle's rage untaught,
Superior fouls undaunted fought,
Atchiev'd, with breast of generous mould,
Such deeds, as Grecian bards have told,
The patriot prov'd, the laurel gain'd,
The brave avengers of their land.

The work of crimson slaughter done,
A fullen interval came on.
The fwains, ecap'd from threatening ill,
Hung, gloomy, round each neighbouring hill:
From house to house th' invaders flew,
To waſte, to plunder, and purfue.
Whatee'r their ruffian ſtrength could bear
Uſeful, or pleafant, rich, or rare,
From the poor earner's feeble hand
They ſnatch'd, and hurried to the ſstrand.

To bruife the head of silver hair,
To agonize the imploring fair,
The hufband's breast convulſe with woe,
The wife to wound with every throe,
The feeble cruſh, the humble beat,
And ſpurn pale Anguſh from their ſeet,
With groſs affault to tear the heart,
And ſmile, and revel, o'er the ſmart,

92

95

100

105

110

115

120

( 69 )

To hiss the groan, to mock the prayer,
Alike their transport, and their care.

There Delicacy look'd, to meet
Compaffion, at Neronian feet;
Compaffion, puff'd in many a fong,
And prov'd by impudence of tongue;
But found, deceiv'd by British breath,
To hope was woe, to truſt was death.

Yet let not Indignation rude
Commix the worthleſs with the good:
Sweet Candour ſings, with voice benign,
And ſmiles to pen the generous line,
Bright ſouls there were, who felt for woe,
And own'd the merit of a foe;
Bright British ſouls, with virtue warm'd,
To reaſon, and to kindneſs, charm'd,
Whofooth'd the wretch with tenderest care,
Their leaders ſpurn'd, and curs'd the war,
The forrows wept of life's ſhort ſpan,
And felt the kindred ties of man.

Yet theſe, even theſe (let Pity's tale
Their errors, while it tells, bewail)
Thought ſacred Duty's ſtern commands
Compell'd to ill their ſtruggling hands.
Fond man! can Duty bid thee do
What thou muſt mourn, and others rue?
Are crimes a debt by Virtue paid?
Is GOD, where confciencē shrinks, obey'd?
GOD, who from every ill reſtrains,
Theo' greateſt good the guilt obtains;
Who, on the world's ſunereal day,
Will truth's divine award diſplay,
Bid heaven, and earth, his ſvengeance ſee,
And judge thy guilty lord, and thee?

125

130

135

140

145

150

155

( 70 )

Meantime, on yonder hills, forlorn,
The townsmen ftood, with anguifh torne,
Anguifh for thofe, they left behind,
To fears, and ills, and foes, confign'd;
The hufband, for his darling mate;
The father, for his children's fate;
While prefcience wrung with keenefl throe,
And faft enhanc'd fufspended woe.
When lo! dark-rolling thro' the fkies,
Unnumber'd fmokes began to rife:
His manfion, long to each endear'd,
Where peace, and joy, alone appear'd,
Where all the charities of life,
Of parents, children, hufband, wife,
With softer, tendereft bofoms ftrove,
For garlands, in the ftrife of love;
The morn with brighter beauty drefs'd;
The evening gladden'd in the weft;
Bade each gay fun more gaily roll,
And twin'd the sympathy of foul;
That manfion, malice' feven-fold ire
Now wrapp'd in fwathes of circling fire,
Scatter'd his darling blifs in air,
And plung'd his heart in deep defpair.
O vileft of the crimes of War,
Fell partner of his bloody car,
Dread ill, to guilty mortals given,
To mark the wrath of injur'd HEAVEN;
O Conflagration! curfe intire;
The impoifon'd fting of baffled ire;
Of kings, of chiefs, th' immortal fhame;
The rafure of the reafoning name!
From thee, no aid the victor gains;
Nor wealth, nor ſtrength, rewards his pains:
The fear, he fondly hopes impreſs'd,
Is chang'd to rage, in every breaſt:

160

165

170

175

180

185

190

( 71 )

The victim, maddening with his woe,
With vengeance burns, a deadlier foe.
'Tis thine, to glean the waftes of war,
The landfchape of HEAVEN'S good to mar,
Life's lateft refuge to confume,
And make the world a general tomb.

195

Say, Mufe indignant! whoſe the hand
That hurl'd the conflagrative brand ?
A foe to human feelings born,
And of each future age the ſcorn,
TRYON atchiev'd the deed malign,
TRYON, the name of every fin.
Hell's bafeſt fiends the flame furvey'd,
And ſmil'd, to fee deſtruction ſpread;
While Satan, bluſhing deep, look'd on,
And Infamy diſown'd her fon.

200

205

Now Night, of all her ſtars forlorn,
Majeſtic, up the ſky was borne.
A cloud immenſe her mifty car,
Slow-fliding thro' the burden'd air;
Her wreathe of yew; a cypreſs wand
Uplifted by her magic hand;
Pale, ſhrouded fears her awful train,
And ſpectres gliding on the plain :
While Horror, o'er the ſable world,
His enſigns, thro' the expanſe, unfurl'd.
When lo! the ſouthern ſkies around,
Expanded wide, with turrets crown'd,
With umber'd ſkirts, with wary gleam,
Uproſe an awful ridge of flame,
Shed far it's dreary luſtre round,
And dimly ſtreak'd the twilight ground.
Dark clouds, with many a diſmal ſtain,
Hung hov'ring o'er the gleamy main;
While deep, the diſtant, hollow roar
Wav'd, echoing from the illumin'd ſhore;

210

215

220

225

( 72 )

And, from each heaven-directed fire,
Climb'd bending pyramids of fire.

230

Meantime, a storm, in western skies,
Thick, heavy, vast, began to rive,
Roll'd swift, on burden'd winds, along,
And brooded o'er the plundering throng,
In deeper night the heavens array'd
And stretch'd it's pall of boundles's fhade.
Forth fhot the fierce and lurid flame,
(The world dim-rifing in the beam)

235

Leffen'd the conflagrative fpires,
And blended, with their light, it's fires.
Again new darkneſs fpread the main,
The splendors bright'ning rose again.

240

The thunder, with earth-rending found,
Shook every vale, and hill around;

245

While, at each paſſe, with solemn voice,
The murmuring flames prolong'd the noife.

It feem'd, the final day was come,
The day of earth's protracted doom;
The Archangel's voice began to call.

250

The nations of this guilty ball;
The hills to cleave; the ſkies to rend;
Tumultuous elements to blend;

And HEAVEN, in pomp tremendous, came
To light the laſt, funereal flame.

255

The tumult pafs'd, the morn's meek eye
Look'd soft, and filent, from the ſky.
Still on their hills the townſmen ſtood,

And mark'd the ſcene of ſtrife, and blood,
Watching the progreſs of the day,

260

That bore their plundering foes away
Tumultuous, to the darkening ſtrand
From vengeance ſhrunk the guilty band,
With loads of fpoil, retir'd in hafte,
The fpoil of domes, and churches, ras'd;

( 73 )

Thence, to their ships, by boats convey'd,
Their fails unfurl'd, their anchors weigh'd,
Awak'd the Injurer's fullen ire,
And brooded o'er another fire.

265

Each to his home, the townsmen flew,
Where scenes of anguish met the view.
Here spread the funk, still-blazing wall,
And there stood, nodding to its fall:
Here rose the flow-declining fire,
And smoke, reluctant to expire;
There fable brands lay scatter'd round,
And ashes vile defac'd the ground.
The fullen chimney frown'd alone;
The sad winds breath'd a hollow groan:
His joys were fled; his hopes were gone;
His household driven to haunts unknown:
There peaceful slumber'd Ruin wild,
And Horror rear'd his head, and smil'd.

270

275

280

O thou! whose heart, with kind design,
Explores, and feels this honest line;
Before thee, lo! a village stands,
In misery plung'd by hoftile hands.
Such, fuch is war's pernicious rage,
In every form, and clime, and age,
It sweeps, where'er its horrors come,
All human bleffings to the tomb.
Once, on this little spot, appear'd
Whate'er the life of man endear'd,
Peace, freedom, competence, and health,
Enduring good, and real wealth;
With Innocence, of tranquil breast,
Their faithful friend, and constant guest;
While all the village Virtues smil'd;
And play'd, and fung their field-notes wild.
The feast of temperate, household joy,
That still delights, that cannot cloy,

285

290

295

300

I

( 74 )

Went round the year. The husband's toil
Still bade the field and garden smile;
With green adorn'd the vernal day;
Awak'd the tended flock to play;
Bade Summer lay his golden load,
And Autumn drop his blooming good;
Of frost, compell'd the rage to ceafe,
And charm'd the wintry storm to peace.
Her toils to his the wife conjoin'd,
With sweeteft unity of mind;
Converted, all he earn'd, to good,
The fleece to clothes, the corn to food;
Preferv'd, with watchful eye, the hoard;
With dainties crown'd the cheerful board;
In every labour claim'd her share;
And burnifh'd joy, and gilded care;
And, with a sweet, fupporting smile,
Seren'd, and leffen'd, every ill.

305

310

315

Around, fuftain'd, inſtructed, fway'd,
Their little flock, as lambkins, play'd,
With ſtripling ſports, and smiling ſtrife,
Deceiv'd the thorny road of life;
Clasp'd the fond heart; the boſom charm'd;
And Labour's icy ſinews warm'd;
With bloſſom'd hopes enchanted pain,
And life's brown autumn green'd again.
The lovely ſcene the parents view'd,
And daily ſaw their blifs renew'd,
Beheld themſelves, in theirs, revive,
And thro' ſucceeding ages live.

320

325

330

Meantime, from houſe to houſe, went round
The cup, with ſocial pleafure crown'd;
The blifs, good neighbourhood beſtows,
Immingling joys, and soothing woes;

( 75 )

The feaſt, with ſpicy fragrance, cheer'd;
With glee the evening hour endear'd;
Laid fickneſs on a downy bed;
And pillow'd ſoft the weary head;
Smooth'd the ſtern brow of angry Strife,
And added balm to drooping life.

335

Here too, with fond, maternal hands,
The ſchool embrac'd her infant bands;
To wifdom led the early mind,
Affections ſoft, and actions kind;
Prepar'd to fill the uſeful part,
And form'd to worth the cultur'd heart.

340

And here, when beam'd the sabbath's ray,
Bright earneſt of immortal day,
The bell the ſolemn warning rung;
The temple's doors unfolded hung:
To pay, each grateful household came,
Its tribute to th' Unutter'd Name;
And ſent with heaven-directed eyes,
United incenſe to the ſkies.

350

Where now, thou Child of Nature! where
Is gone this humble blifs ſincere?
Lo! guilty War has waſted all,
And Ruin, ſummon'd at his call,
Has marr'd the good, th' ETERNAL yields,
And ſown with ſalt the defert fields.

355

Such, Child of Nature! ſuch the ſcene,
In every age, and clime, has been.
Since Nimrod firſt the ſpoil began,
Man ſtill has toil'd to ruin man.
Search, ſearch, and tell me, what has moſt
The toils, and powers, of men engroſs'd?
The nerves of suffering Labour ſtrain'd?
Invention's richeſt channels drain'd?

365

( 76 )

Awak'd, and fir'd, the immense design?
Devour'd th' incalculable mine?
And wing'd bold enterprize afar
Through danger, death, and ruin? War.
Peace' lowly vale neglected lies,
Unfeen, or pafs'd with glancing eyes.
The cultur'd field, the manfion sweet,
Where all the Loves, and Virtues meet,
The calm, the meek, the ufeful life,
The friend of man, the foe of strife,
The heart to kindnefs tun'd, are things
Too mean for ſtateſmen, chiefs, and kings.
For there no twining laurels bloom,
Still verdant o'er the wintry tomb;
No cliffs ambitious tempt to rife,
And climb, and climb, to reach the ſkies;
Nor fancy opes that bright abode,
Where man's transfigur'd to a god.

Yet here whate'er the earth's wide field,
Of comfort, hope, or joy, can yield,
Whate'er benignant SKIES deſign'd,
To nurſe the form, or chear the mind,
Our being's ſcope, and uſe, and end,
The arts, and aſts, that life befriend,
Whate'er adorns the reaſoning name,
Or emulates an angel's fame,
The juſt, the good, the humble, thrive,
And in this ſweet republic live.

But these, too mean for kings, are ſeen
For all the trains of kings too mean.
For these no ſenate gold beſtows;
O'er these no ſtateſman bends his brows;
No garlands bloom, proceſſions glare;
Nor mobs, with idiot wonder, ſtare;

( 77 )

No heralds blazon them to fame;
They rife, they fall, without a name.

Thro' earth's immeasurable bounds,
Thro' time's interminable rounds,
Each day has heard the clarion roar;
Each land been bath'd in human gore.
The Egyptian rule, the Affyrian throne,
Was rear'd of spoils, and realms undone.
Greece redden'd earth around with blood,
And pour'd of woe an ocean flood;
Then pointed at herself the dart,
And brothers pierc'd a brother's heart.

The Persian ruin'd half mankind :
The Macedonian wept, to find,
While brooding o'er the wrecks of joy,
No new world left him, to destroy.

The structure mark of Rome's dread power !
Its marble bones ! its cement gore !
Her fway the waste of human joy ;
The art to plunder, and destroy ;
A curse to earth's extended climes ;
A web of madneſs, woes, and crimes !
Her towers were built by galled hands ;
In blood her proud Pantheon stands ;
Her triumphs ſhow'd the tyger's prey ;
And corpfes pav'd her Appian way.
In each tall temple's dread abode,
Pale ſpectres hover'd round the god,
(The injur'd ghouſts of countleſs lands,
Cut off from life by Roman hands)
Hung round, and claim'd the spoils their own,
Shriek'd o'er their native realms undone,
Haunted each ſhrine, with livid stare,
And mingled groans with every prayer.

Nor leſs, in modern days, when art
Has led to nobler ſcenes the heart,

405

410

415

420

425

430

435

( 78 )

When science beams with vernal rays,
And lights to blifs ten thoufand ways,
The Gofspel, found in every tongue,
Has peace, and fweet falvation, fung,
The tyger charm'd to quit his prey,
And taught the wolf with lambs to play—
Still roars the trump's funereal found;
"To arms," the ftartled hills rebound;
War's iron car in thunder rolls,
From medial climes, to diffant poles.

440

Amaz'd, fee Europe, firft of all,
Proud Emprefs of this suffering ball,
The fun of power, and arts refin'd,
The boaft, and beauty, of mankind,
The work of death, and plunder, spread,
And riot on th' untimely dead !

450

When, borne by winds of softeft wing,
Returns the life-renewing fpring,
The tempeft flies to earth's far ends,
And HEAVEN in peace and love defcends,
Shines in the fun's ferener ray,
Breathes in the balmy breath of May,
Diftills in earth-diffolving showers,
And glows in rainbow-painted flowers,
While wifdom works, while goodneſs warms,
In ſky-born tints, and angel forms,
The new, the fweet, creation springs,
And beauty blooms, and rapture ſings :
Faſt ſwell the teeming feeds of food;
The world is heap'd with boundleſs good :
In every ſcene, the GODHEAD ſmiles,
And man of rage, and luſt, beguiles.
Then beats the drum its fierce alarm;
Then millions, fir'd to madneſs, arm,

455

460

465

470

( 79 )

Fight, plunder, defolate, devour,
And drench the wafted world in gore.

475

**Whoofe name rolls down, from age to age?**
**Whoofe fplendours light th' Hiftoric page?**
**Who wakes th' inrapt Mæonian ſong?**
**Who prompts the univerſal tongue?**
**The world's great guardian, genius, god?**

480

**The Man of ſpoil, the Man of blood.**
**Cæfar, the butcher of mankind,**
**Loads with his præife each paſſing wind,**
**The general thief, adulterer, brute;**
**His boast to murder, waſte, pollute;**

485

**Dread rival of Apollyon's fame;**
**His labours, arts, and præife, the fame.**
**What moſt the heart with vice defiles;**
**Of worth diſrobes; of heaven beguiles?**
**What bids in ſtorms the paſſions roll;**

490

**Configns to appetite the foul;**
**Bids Pride aſcend th' ETERNAL's throne,**
**And claim the univerſe, her own;**
**Ambition's vulture-wing expands,**
**Borne, hungry, keen, o'er ſuffering lands;**

495

**The wide world talon'd to his ſway,**
**A field of death, and food, and prey?**
**What lights, for fell Revenge, the pyre;**
**Of Malice heats the quenchleſs fire;**
**And lifts Aſſaffination's knife**

500

**Againſt a friend's, or parent's, life?**
**What ſtretches Avarice' gulphy maw,**
**And opens wide her ſhark-tooth'd jaw,**
**Both India's bowels to devour,**
**To drink the ſea, and gorge the ſhore;**

505

**Calls forth, in viper paths, Difguife,**
**And points her thouſand tongues with lies;**
**Bold, bronzy Fraud inveſte in mail,**
**And clips his weights, and lops his ſcale;**

{ 80 }

For Honour's house digs Forgery's mine,
And guilds his green, impoisoning coin;
Breaks tyger Rapine's iron cage,
And fends him loose, to roam, and rage;
Extortion roufes, from his lair,
The cote t' o'erleap, the flock to tear,
To make the fencelefs poor his food,
And eat their flesh, and drink their blood?
What fires, to phrenzy, Lewdnefs' veins;
Throws on Adultery's neck the reins;
Gives high-fed Rape at large to fly,
And makes the world a general stye;
Peoples a realm with fots, and fwine,
And bids men live, to drink, and dine;
Tempts burrow'd Atheism abroad,
To infuriate man, to hifs at God,
To burft each moral bond divine,
And nature's magic links disjoin,
The fenfe of common good erafe,
Th' etherial stamp of HEAVEN deface,
Dog gentle peace, bait generous worth,
Haunt justice, truth, and law, from earth,
And bid in hell's subjeſted fire,
Religion's ſky-built fane expire?

What licks the final dregs of joy,
And leaves th' inverted vessel dry;
Makes earth, of virtue beſom'd clean,
The cage of every beaſt obſcene;
A ruin'd dome, whoſe walls around
The hollow moan of death reſound;
An Afric ſand; a Greenland shore;
Where life and comfort ſpring no more;
An image dark and drear of hell;
Where ſiends, invok'd familiar dwell;
Where loft immortals Angels weep;
Where curſes wake, and bleſſings ſleep;

510

515

520

525

530

535

540

( 81 )

And God, the rebels forc'd t' abhor,
Repents his marr'd creation ? War.

545

Say, Child of Nature ! does thy tear
Start, as thy pain'd eye wanders here ?
Thy cheek with manly blushes burn ?
Thy wonted praise to curfes turn ?
Thy bosom waſte with cankering woe ?
And thy heart heave th' indignant throe ?

550

Go then, ah go ! whate'er thy lot;
Be thine the palace, or the cot,
To wield the rod, the yoke to bear,
A million, or a crown, to ſhare,
The ſenate's guided hand to ſway,
Or bid the little flock obey,
Go, ere thy heart be chang'd to ſtone,
Or ear find muſic in a groan,
Or gold the gates of pity bar,
Hate, curſe, oppoſe, Tartarean war.
Difſain, deſpife, with horror name,
And give to never-dying ſhame,
The King, that thron'd for human good,
Conſigns his realm to waſte, and blood;
Senates, that, form'd for general weal,
Sanction the dread decree to kill;
Stateſmen, to tygers chang'd by power,
That ſmile, and ſeaſt on human gore,
And chiefs, that havoc love to ſpread,
And pluck their wreaths from fields of dead.

555

560

565

570

But round thee gentle peace diffuse,
Her morning ſmiles, and evening dews;
Thy ſons with love of peace inform;
Their hearts with ſweet affections warm;
Bid them pernicious ſtrife abhor,
And lifp the infant curſe on war.

575

K

( 82 )

Far round thee light the genial fire;
Thy neighbours, and thy friends, infpire:
United, lift the ardent prayer,
That God thy ruin'd race may spare,
Wake in their hearts affections mild,
Sweet femblance of the meekly child,
MESSIAH's peaceful fway extend,
Bid kings, and chiefs, to virtue bend,
Protract of life the little fpan,
And change the reafoning wolf to man.

580

585

And O thou Sage, by Learning taught,
With wifdom and with virtue fraught,
Whofe foul the breath of HEAVEN informs;
Whofe heart MESSIAH's fpirit warms;
Sleep, sleep no more. For suffering men,
Awake thy voice; aroufe thy pen;
The caufe of peace and kindneſs plead;
For miſery let thy boſom bleed;
To endleſs hate and ſhame config
The tyger thron'd, the titled ſwine;
The charm of threeſcore centuries break,
And bid the torpid ſlumberer wake;
Burſt with new found the adder's ear,
And make th' inſenſate marble hear,
His intereſt know, his end diſcern,
And o'er his ſlaughter'd kindred yearn,
Feel the unmeafur'd curſe of war,
And all her crinſon ſiends abhor:
Tread where th' impaſſion'd favour trode,
And earth ſhall hail thee, Child of God.*

590

600

605

Go too, thou ardent Hero! go,
Freth from fields of war, and woe,

610

* Allusion to Mat. 5. ix.

( 83 )

From thy proud, triumphal car,
Glittering with the spoils of war,
While thy wheels majestic roll
Onward to th' immortal goal;
While thy arms with lightning blaze;
While extatic millions gaze;
Shouts to heaven thy triumphs wing,
And imagin'd angels sing;
Leffening in th' immenſe parade,
All preceding glories fade,
Cæsar's changing ſtar retires,
And eclips'd are Marlborough's fires;
Caſt around thee ſearching eyes,
Mark thy ſplendours, whence they rife!
See, on fields, with corſes ſpread,
Thine exulting courſers tread!
See, thy car, with garlands proud,
Rolls thro' ſtreams of human blood!
Blood from kindred boſoms pour'd!
Brothers by a brother gor'd!
Forth, from Adam's veins, the ſtream,
Living, ran through thee and them.

Mark! around thy wandering eye,
Waſted fields of culture lie,
Late with plenteous harveſts crown'd,
Now in gulphs of ruin drown'd.
There the HEAVENS their bounty ſhower'd;
Seasons there their bleſſings pour'd;
Health and comfort, clothes and food;
Where is now the boundleſs good?

See yon flames thro' ether bend!
See th' immenſe of ſmoke aſcend!
Loſt, aſham'd, the ſky retires,
And the fun withdraws his fires.

615

620

625

630

635

640

( 84 )

Cities there in ruin lie,
Towns and villages of joy;
Temples, where, to virtue given,
Man was form'd for life, and Heaven;
Domes of pomp, and feats of blifs
Manfions fanctified to peace;

Cots, where harmlefs households dwelt,
And each soft emotion felt;

Sportive play'd the wanton child,
And white Age look'd on, and fmil'd:

Streets, were cheerful Businefs reign'd,
Shops, where Toil his houfe fuftain'd;

Humble wifhes fought, and found
Life, with peace and comfort crown'd.

Where are now the manfions dear?
Scatter'd in the realms of air.

Where are now the happy trains?
Weltering on the bloody plains.

Ruin'd walls deface the ground;
Silence broods the domes around;

Ravens flutter o'er the tomb,
Vultures scream, and tygers roam.

To the margin of the deep
Bid thy wheels of grandeur fweep.
See th' imperial fail, unfurl'd,

Wave triumphant o'er the world;
Rows of fleeping cannon join'd;

Streamers glorying on the wind!

Lo! the proudly-fwelling gales,
Springing, fill the wanton tails;
Marshal'd in sublime array,

Winds the fleet its lordly way;
Ocean greets the awful train,

And expands his glaffy plain.

( 85 )

See the private barks of prey,
Steal behind their creeping way;
Arm'd, with piracy to spoil
Hard-earn'd fruits of honest toil;
By the voice of Law let loose,
Death and beggary to diffuse;
With the dye of endlefs fhame
Blackening man's unhappy name!

680

Thron'd upon th' imperial stern,
Death's unfinifh'd Form difcern!
Sooty clouds his limbs inclofe;
Thorns his myſtic crown compoſe;
In his hand, th' uplifted dart
Haſtens to transfix the heart;
From his ſcythe, with lurid gleam,
Pale ſulphureous lightnings ſtream.

690

Hark, his hollow voice refounds,
O'er the world's unmeafur'd bounds!
Ocean quakes, thro' all his waves;
Earth remurmurs, from her caves.

695

“ Ceafe, fond man! thy claims reſign;
Earth, with all her realms, is mine.
Thron'd with all-subduing ſway,
Here I bid the world obey.
Mine, theſe engines ocean brave;
Mine, theſe crinſon ſtreamers wave;
Mine, the winds to waſt them blow;
Mine, the purple deep below.
O'er the ſea, from ſky to ſky,
Mortals, wing'd by terror, fly:
Here, to fartheſt eve, and morn,
Death's reſſtleſs arms are borne;
Floating hoſts behind you pour;
Hark! purſuing thunders roar.

700

705

710

( 86 )

See your cities wrapp'd in fire!
See your fons, and fires, expire!
Infants, recent from the tomb,
Virgins, matrons, croud the tomb!
Seas divided regions join:
All the watery world is mine."

715

"I ordain the crimson day;
I the embattled hofts array;
Sound the trumpet, beat the alarm,
And the heart with vengeance arm.
I the ruddy standard spread,
Pile the groaning fields with dead,
Light the whelming flame, and sweep
Every bleffing to the deep."

720

725

"Man, delighting to destroy,
Hating peace, and fhunning joy,
Man, who feels his life too long,
Child of madneſs, child of wrong,
Man, obſequious to my will,
Loves the glorious work of ill,
Cuts off half his brother's years,
Swells my darling ſtream of tears,
Bids deſtruction round him flow,
Feaſting fweet on human woe."

730

735

"Who ſo great a king as I?
My pavilion is the ſky;
Earth my realm, my throne the air;
Winds my courſers; clouds my car:
Suns but light me to my prey;
Midnight veils my ſecret way:
O'er expiring worlds I ride;
Dearth and Plague, before me ſtride:
Storms, my befom, ſweep the wave,
And with thouſands fill the grave;

740

745

( 87 )

Chiefs and kings, my servants, toil,
Butcher hofts, and countries fpoil :
Mortals every claim reſign;
Earth, air, ocean, all are mine."

750

Why, triumphant Hero ! why
Stares thy wild and tearleſs eye ?
Whence thy pale and ſpectred brow ?
Paſled limbs ? and ſighs of woe ?
Has the gloomy monarch's dart
Pierc'd with agony thy heart ?
Or has human miſery riven ?
Or the advancing curſe of HEAVEN ?

755

Thou haſt ſhorten'd life's ſhort ſpan;
Thou haſt emptied earth, of man ?
Breaſts unnumber'd rack'd with fears;
Eyes unnumber'd drown'd in tears;
Bidden countleſs trains expire;
Countleſs cities funk in fire;
Countleſs hearts with mourning riven;
Countleſs fouls ſhut out of heaven.

760

Art thou Atheiſt ? Spare the ſpan,
Kinder Chance allows to man.
Shallow is his cup of bliſs;
Make not, then, the portion leſs :
Grudge not foes a boon ſo ſmall;
Spare, oh ſpare the little all !

770

But, if rais'd from mole to man,
Thou canſt nobler objects ſcan,
Lift thy curtain'd eyes abroad,
And diſcern the prefent God;
If MESSIAH's ſolar ray
Through thy night has pierc'd it's way,
And, ſubliming ſenſe to thought,
Has eternal wonders wrought ;

775

780

( 88 )

Think, oh think, the crimson tide
Pours from thofe, for whom he died!
He the millions bled to fave,
Thou haft hurried to the grave.
He compels, with dread command,
Every heart, and every hand,
Man to clothe, fuftain with food,
And to bleſs with every good;
But, obdurate to his call,
Thou haſt flain, and robb'd of all.

785

790

Think how precious is the hour,
Given, the wanderer to reſtore.
Think, the heart ſhall ever find
Pity from the ETERNAL MIND,
That has learn'd for man to glow,
Smile with joy, and weep with woe,
Give the weary outcaſt reſt,
Draw the barb from Sorrow's breaſt,
And (the ſole, alchymic ſtone)
Make a brother's weal it's own :
While th' unfeeling wretch ſhall meet
Vengeance at his MAKER's ſeet.

795

800

But thy heart, with ill uncloy'd,
Woe has ſpread, and peace deſtroy'd,
HEAVEN's delightful work undone,
And the taſk of Hell begun.
Orphans' cries thy car purſue;
Parents' tears thy path bedew;
Widows' ſhrieks thy muſic drown;
Cyprefs wreaths inveſt thy crown;
Spoils in all thy ſplendours glow;
Nurs'd with blood, thy laurels grow;
On the bones of ſlaughter'd bands
See! thy arch triumphal ſtands.

805

810

( 89 )

Lo! in yonder, verging skies,
Myriad troops of spectres rife;
Spirits of a distant world :
By thy arm to ruin hurl'd.
Bristling stands their bloody hair;
On thee gleams their angry stare;
In pale clouds approaching, see
Every finger points at thee!
"Thou," they feebly murmuring cry,
"Thou haft drunk our cup of joy;
Ere the mortal race was run,
Quench'd in blood our noon-day fun;
Halv'd the hour, by Mercy given,
To prepare for life, and heaven;
And, with all our guilt unpaid,
Plung'd us to the untimely dead."

Fainting Hero! pangs unknown
Break, and break, thy heart of stone;
Short, and shorter, pants thy breath,
And thine eye-balls swim in death;
Death thy brow has whiten'd o'er;
Thou art fallen, to rife no more.

795

800

805

810

815

END OF THE THIRD PART.

L

GREENFIELD HILL.

PART IV.

THE DESTRUCTION OF THE PEQUODS.

A H me! while up the long, long vale of time,
Reflection wanders towards th' eternal vaft,
How it starts the eye, at many a change sublime,
Unbofom'd dimly by the ages pafs'd !
What Maufoleums crowd the mournful waſte !
The tombs of empires fallen ! and nations gone !
Each, once inſcrib'd, in gold, with "AYE TO LAST"
Sate as a queen; proclaim'd the world her own,
And proudly cried, "By me no forrows ſhall be known."

Soon fleets the sunbright Form, by man ador'd.          10
Soon fell the Head of gold, to Time a prey;
The Arms, the Trunk, his cankering tooth devour'd;
And whirlwinds blew the Iron duſt away.
Where dwelt imperial Timur?—far aſtray,
Some lonely-muſing pilgrim now enquires:          15
And, rack'd by ſtorms, and haſtening to decay,
Mohammed's Mofque foreſees it's final fires;
And Rome's more lordly Temple day by day expires.

( 94 )

As o'er proud Afian realms the traveller winds,
His manly fpirit, hush'd by terror, falls;
When fome deccafed town's loft fite he finds,
Where ruin wild his pondering eye appals;
Where filence fwims along the moulder'd walls,
And broods upon departed Grandeur's tomb.
Through the lone, hollow afles fad Echo calls,
At each flow ftep; deep fighs the breathing gloom,
And weeping fields, around, bewail their Emprefs' doom.

Where o'er an hundred realms, the throne uprose,
The screech-owl nefts, the panther builds his home;
Sleep the dull newts, the lazy adders doze,
Where pomp and luxury danc'd the golden room.
Low lies in duft the fky-refembled dome;
Tall grafs around the broken column waves;
And brambles climb, and lonely thiftles bloom:
The moulder'd arch the weedy fstreamlet laves,
And low refound, beneath, unnumber'd funken graves.

Soon fleets the fun-bright Form, by man ador'd;
And foon man's daemon chiefs from memory fade.
In mufty volume, now muft be explor'd,
Where dwelt imperial nations, long decay'd.
The brightest meteors angry clouds invade;
And where the wonders glitter'd, none explain.
Where Carthage, with proud hand, the trident fway'd,
Now mud-wall'd cots fit fullen on the plain,
And wandering, fierce, and wild, ſequeſter'd Arabs reign.

In thee, O Albion! queen of nations, live
Whatever ſplendours earth's wide realms have known;
In thee proud Perſia fees her pomp revive;
And Greece her arts; and Rome her lordly throne:
By every wind, thy Tyrian fleets are blown;
Supreme, on Fame's dread roll, thy heroes ſtand;
All ocean's realms thy naval ſcepter own;

( 95 )

Of bards, of fages, how auguft thy band !
And one rich Eden blooms around thy garden'd land.

But O how vaſt thy crimes! Through heaven's great year, 55
When few centurial funs have trac'd their way;
When southern Europe, worn by feuds severe;
Weak, doating, fallen, has bow'd to Ruffian ſway;
And fetting Glory beam'd her farewell ray;
To waſtes, perchance, thy brilliant fields ſhall turn; 60
In duſt, thy temples, towers, and towns decay;
The foreſt howl, where London's turrets burn;
And all thy garlands deck thy ſad, funereal urn.

Some land, ſcarce glimmering in the light of fame,
Scepter'd with arts, and arms (if I divine)                 65
Some unknown wild, ſome ſhore without a name,
In all thy pomp, ſhall then majeftic ſhine.
As filver-headed Time's flow years decline,
Not ruins only meet th' enquiring eye :
Where round yon mouldering cak vain brambles twine,          70
The filial Item, already towering high,
Erelong ſhall ſtretch his arms, and nod in yonder ſky.

Where late refounded the wild, woodland roar,
Now heaves the palace, now the temple ſmiles;
Where frown'd the rude rock, and the desert ſhore,          75
Now pleafure ſports, and buſineſs want beguiles,
And Commerce wings her flight to thouſand ifles;
Culture walks forth; gay laugh the loaded fields;
And jocund Labour plays his harmleſs wiles;
Glad Science brightens; Art her manſion builds;          80
And Peace uplifts her wand, and HEAVEN his bleſſing yields.

O'er theſe ſweet fields, ſo lovely now, and gay,
Where modeſt Nature finds each want ſupplied,
Where home-born Happineſs delights to play,
And counts her little flock, with household pride,          85
Long frown'd, from age to age, a foreſt wide:

{ 96 }

Here hung the slumbering bat; the serpent dire
Nefted his brood, and drank th' impoifon'd tide;
Wolves peal'd, the dark, drear night, in hideous choir;
Nor fhrnuk th' unmeafur'd howl from Sol's terrific fire. 90

No charming cot imbank'd the pebbly fstream;
No manfion tower'd, nor garden teem'd with good;
No lawn expanded to the April beam;
Nor mellow harveſt hung it's bending load;
Nor ſcience dawn'd; nor life with beauty glow'd; 95
Nor temple whiten'd, in th' enchanting dell;
In cluſters wild, the fluggifh wigwam ſtood;
And, borne in ſnaky paths, the Indian fell
Now aim'd the death unfeen, now ſcream'd the tyger-yell.

Even now, perhaps, on human duſt I tread, 100
Pondering, with ſolemn paufe, the wrecks of time;
Here ſleeps, perchance, among the vulgar dead,
Some Chief, the lofty theme of Indian rhyme,
Who lov'd Ambition's cloudy ſteep to climb,
And ſmil'd, deaths, dangers, rivals, to engage; 105
Who rous'd his followers' ſouls to deeds ſublime,
Kindling to furnace heat vindictive rage,
And foar'd Cæſarean heights, the Phoenix of his age.

In yon ſmall field, that dimly ſteals from fight,
(From yon ſmall field theſe meditations grow) 110
Turning the fluggifh foil, from morn to night,
The plodding hind, laborious, drives his plough,
Nor dreams, a nation ſleeps, his foot below.
There, undisturbed by the roaring wave,
Releas'd from war, and far from deadly foe, 115
Lies down, in endleſs reſt, a nation brave,
And trains, in tempeſts born, there find a quiet grave.

Oft have I heard the tale, when matron ſere
Sung to my infant ear the ſong of woe;

( 97 )

Of maiden meek, confum'd with pining care,
120
Around whose tomb the wild-rose lov'd to blow:
Or told, with swimming eyes, how, long ago,
Remorselefs Indians, all in midnight dire,
The little, sleeping village, did o'erthrow,
Bidding the cruel flames to heaven aſpire,
125
And ſcalp'd the hoary head, and burn'd the babe with fire.

Then, fancy-fir'd, her memory wing'd it's flight,
To long-forgotten wars, and dread alarms,
To chiefs obscure, but terrible in fight,
Who mock'd each foe, and laugh'd at deadlieſt harms,
130
Sydneys in zeal, and WASHINGTONS in arms.
By inſtinct tender to the woes of man,
My heart bewildering with ſweet pity's charms,
Thro' ſolemn ſcenes, with Nature's ſtep, ſhe ran,
And hufh'd her audience ſmall, and thus the tale began.
135

" Thro' verdant banks where THAMES's branches glide,
Long held the PEQUODS an extenſive ſway;
Bold, favage, ſ fierce, of arms the glorious pride,
And bidding all the circling realms obey.

Jealous, they ſaw the tribes, beyond the ſea,
140
Plant in their climes; and towns, and cities, rife;
Aſcending caſtles foreign flags diſplay;
Myſterious art new ſcenes of life devife;
And ſteeds inſult the plains, and cannon rend the ſkies."

" They ſaw, and ſoon the ſtrangers' fate decreed,
145
And ſoon of war diſclos'd the crinſon ſign;
Firſt, hapleſs STONE! they bade thy boſom bleed,
A guiltleſs offering at th' infernal ſhrine:

Then, gallant NORTON! the hard fate was thine,
By ruffians butcher'd, and denied a grave:
150
THEE, generous OLDHAM! next the doom malign
Arreſted; nor could all thy courage ſave;
Forſaken, plunder'd, cleft, and buried in the wave."

M

( 98 )

" Soon the sad tidings reach'd the general ear;
And prudence, pity, vengeance, all inf FIRE :          155
Invasive war their gallant friends prepare;
And soon a noble band, with purpose dire,
And threatening arms, the murderous fiends require :
Small was the band, but never taught to yield ;
Breafts fac'd with steel, and fouls infest with fire :      160
Such fouls, from Sparta, Perfia's world repell'd,
When nations pav'd the ground, and Xerxes flew the field."

" The rising clouds the Savage Chief defcried,
And, round the foreft, bade his heroes arm;                      165
To arms the painted warriors proudly hied,
And through surrounding nations rung the' alarm.
The nations heard; but ſmil'd, to fee the ſtorm,
With ruin fraught, o'er Pequod mountains driven,
And felt infernal joy the boſom warm,
To fee their light hang o'er the ſkirts of even,          170
And other ſuns arife, to gild a kinder heaven."

" Swift to the Pequod fortrefs Mafon ſped,
Far in the wildering wood's impervious gloom;
A lonely caſtle, brown with twilight dread;
Where oft th' embowel'd captive met his doom,          175
And frequent heav'd, around the hollow tomb;
Scalps hung in rows, and whitening bones were ſtrew'd;
Where, round the broiling babe, fresh from the womb,
With howls the Powaw fill'd the dark abode,          180
And ſcreams, and midnight prayers, invok'd the Evil god."

" There too, with awful rites, the hoary prieſt,
Without, befide the mofs-grown altar, ſtood,
His ſable form in magic cinſture drefs'd,
And heap'd the mingled offering to his god,
What time, with golden light, calm evening glow'd.      185
The myſtic duſt, the flower of ſilver bloom,
And ſpicy herb, his hand in order ſtrew'd;

( 99 )

Bright rose the curling flame; and rich perfume
On smoky wings upflew, or settled round the tomb."

"Then, o'er the circus, danc'd the maddening throng, 190
As erst the Thyas roam'd dread Nyfa round,
And ftruck, to foreft notes, th' ecftatic fong,
While flow, beneath them, heav'd the wavy ground.
With a low, lingering groan, of dying found,
The woodland rumbled; murmur'd deep each fstream; 195
Shrill fung the leaves; all ether figh'd profound;
Pale tufts of purple topp'd the filver flame,
And many-colour'd Forms on evening breezes came."

"Thin, twilight Forms; attir'd in changing fheen
Of plumes, high-tinctur'd in the western ray; 200
Bending, they peep'd the fleecy folds between,
Their wings light-ruftling in the breath of May.
Soft-hovering round the fire, in myftic play,
They fnuff'd the incenſe, wav'd in clouds afar,
Then, filent, floated toward the fetting day: 205
Eve redden'd each fine form, each mifty car;
And through them faintly gleam'd, at times, the Western ſtar."

"Then (fo tradition fings), the train behind,
In plomy zones of rainbow'd beauty drefs'd,
Rode the Great Spirit, in th' obedient wind,
In yellow clouds flow-failing from the weſt.
With dawning ſmiles, the God his votaries bleſs'd,
And taught where deer retir'd to ivy dell;
What choſen chief with proud command to' inveſt;
Where crept th' approaching foe, with purpofe ſell, 215
And where to wind the ſcout, and war's dark ſtorm diſpel."

"There, on her lover's tomb, in filence laid,
While ſtill, and forrowing, ſhower'd the moon's pale beam,
At times, expeſtant, ſlept the widow'd maid,
Her foul far-wandering on the ſylph-wing'd dream. 220
Wafted from evening ſkies, on funny ſtream,

( 100 )

Her darling Youth with silver pinions fhone;
With voice of music, tun'd to sweetest theme,
He told of shell-bright bowers, beyond the fun,
Where years of endlets joy o'er Indian lovers run."

225

" But now no awful rites, nor potent spell,
To silence charm'd the peals of coming war;
Or told the dread receffes of the dell,
Where glowing Mafon led his bands from far:

No spirit, buoyant on his airy car,
Controul'd the whirlwind of invading fight:
Deep died in blood, dun evening's falling star
Sent fad, o'er western hills, it's parting light,
And no returning morn difpers'd the long, dark night."

" On the drear walls a fudden fplendour glow'd,
There Mafon fhone, and there his veterans pour'd.
Anew the Hero claim'd the fiends of blood,
While anfwerin g ftrorms of arrows round him fhowerd,
And the war-fcream the ear with anguifh gor'd.

Alone, he burft the gate: the foreft round
Re-echoed death; the peal of onfet roar'd;
In rufh'd the squadrons; earth in blood was drown'd;
And gloomy fpirits fled, and corfes hid the ground."

Not long in dubious fight the hoft had ftriven,
When, kindled by the mufket's potent flame,
In clouds, and fire, the caſtle roſe to heaven,
And gloom'd the world, with melancholy beam.
Then hoarfer groans, with deeper anguifh, came;
And fiercer fight the keen affault repell'd:

Nor even theſe ills the savage breaſt could tame;
Like hell's deep caves, the hideous region yell'd,
'Till death, and sweeping fire, laid waſte the hoſtile field."

" Soon the fad tale their friends surviving heard;
And Mafon, Mafon, rung in every wind:

( 101 )

Quick from their rugged wilds they disappear'd, 255
Howl'd down the hills, and left the blast behind.
Their faftening foes, by generous Stoughton join'd,
Hung o'er the rear, and every brake explor'd;
But such dire terror feiz'd the savage mind,
So fwikft and black a storm behind them lowr'd, 260
On wings of raging fear, thro' fpacious realms they fcowr'd."

(O thou, to earth the fecond bleffing given,
Of heart divine, of aspect angel-fweet,
O meek Religion ! fecond-born of Heaven,
Cloth'd with the fun, the world beneath thy feet ! 265
Softer than lambs on yonder hillocks bleat,
Thy muſic charms to kindneſs savage man,
Since firſt, from Calvary's height, with love replete,
Thy wondrous courſe, in funny ſheen, began,
And, o'er the death-struck globe, thro' ſtartled nations ran. 170

When pride and wrath awake the world to arms,
How heaves thy snowy breaſt with fainting throne !
While luſt and rapine trumpet death's alarms,
And men 'gainſt men with fiery vengeance glow.
In Europe oft, that land of war, and woe, 275
As her ſad ſteps the lingering mourner draws,
How flowly did thy feet entangled go,
Chain'd by vile teſts, and prifon'd round by laws;
While bigotry and rage in blood inſteep'd thy caufe !

When o'er th' Atlantic wild, by Angels borne, 280
Thy pilgrim barque explor'd it's western way,
With ſpring and beauty bloom'd the waſte forlorn,
And night and chaos ſhrunk from new-born day.
Dumb was the ſavage howl; th' inſtinctive lay
Wav'd, with ſtrange warblings, thro' the woodland's bound; 285
The village ſmil'd; the temple's golden ray
Shot high to heaven; fair culture clothed the ground;
Art bloſſom'd; cities ſprang; and fails the ocean crown'd.