The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume II Part 49

The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day, But glory remains when their lights fade away.

Begin, ye tormentors: your threats are in vain For the son of Alknomock can never complain.

Remember the woods, where in ambush he lay, And the scalps which he bore from your nation away!

Why do ye delay?--'till I shrink from my pain?

Know the son of Alknomock can never complain.

Remember the arrows he shot from his bow Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low The flame rises high, you exult in my pain?

Know the son of Alknomock will never complain.

I go to the land where my father is gone: His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son Death comes like a friend, he relieves me from pain And thy son, O Alknomock, has scorned to complain.

[325] The first trace I can find of this poem is in the initial number of Matthew Carey's _American Museum_, Jan. 1, 1787, where it is placed among the selected poetry and a.s.signed to P. Freneau. This testimony of Carey's as to its genuineness carries with it considerable weight.

Knapp, who in 1829 reviewed the poem as Freneau's, doubtless had before him a copy of the _Museum_. The poem, however, is not included in any of the poet's collections and I can find no earlier newspaper appearance, although my search has not been exhaustive. The authenticity of a poem suspected to be Freneau's may always be gravely doubted if it is not found to be included in his collected works, for he h.o.a.rded his poetic product, especially in his earlier period, with miserly care.

The poem appeared in 1806 among the poems of Mrs. John Hunter with the t.i.tle "The Death Song, written for and adapted to, an original Indian air." Several of Mrs. Hunter's best poems had been long in circulation before she was induced to collect them. In 1822 Maria Edgeworth introduced the poem into her book "Rosamond," ascribing it to her. She added the following note: "The idea of this ballad was suggested several years ago by hearing a gentleman who resided many years among the tribe called the Cherokees, sing a wild air, which he a.s.sured me was customary for these people to chant with a barbarous jargon implying contempt for their enemies in the moments of torture and death. I have endeavored to give something of the characteristic spirit and sentiment of those brave savages."

STANZAS

Written at the foot of Monte Souffriere, near the Town of Ba.s.seterre, Guadaloupe[326]

These Indian isles, so green and gay In summer seas by nature placed-- Art hardly told us where they lay, 'Till tyranny their charms defaced: Ambition here her efforts made, And avarice rifled every shade.

Their genius wept, his sons to see By foreign arms untimely fall, And some to distant climates flee, Where later ruin met them all: He saw his sylvan offspring bleed, That envious natures might succeed.

The Chief, who first o'er untried waves To these fair islands found his way, Departing, left a race of slaves, Cortez, your mandate to obey, And these again, if fame says true, To extirpate the vulgar crew.

No more to Indian coasts confined, The Patron, thus, indulged his grief; And to regret his heart resigned, To see some proud European chief, Pursue the harmless Indian race, Torn by his dogs in every chace.[327]

Ah, what a change! the ambient deep No longer hears the lover's sigh; But wretches meet, to wail and weep The loss of their dear liberty: Unfeeling hearts possess these isles, Man frowns--and only nature smiles.

Proud of the vast extended sh.o.r.es The haughty Spaniard calls his own, His selfish heart restrains his stores, To other climes but scarcely known:[328]

His Cuba lies a wilderness, Where slavery digs what slaves possess.

Jamaica's sweet, romantic vales In vain with golden harvests teem; Her endless spring, her fragrant gales More than Elysian magic seem:[329]

Yet what the soil profusely gave Is there denied the toiling slave.

Fantastic joy and fond belief Through life support the galling chain; Hope's airy prospects banish griefs, And bring his native lands again: His native groves a heaven display, The funeral is the jocund day.

For man oppressed and made so base, In vain from Jove fair virtue fell; Distress be-glooms the toiling race, They have no motive to excel: In death alone their miseries end, The tyrant's dread--is their best friend.

How great their praise let truth declare, Who touched with honour's sacred flame, Bade freedom to some coasts repair To urge the slave's neglected claim; And scorning interest's swinish plan, Gave to mankind the rights of man.

Ascending there, may freedom's sun In all his force serenely clear, A long, unclouded circuit run, Till little tyrants disappear; And a new race, not bought or sold, Rise from the ashes of the old.

[326] Published in the _Freeman's Journal_ of Jan. 31, 1787, with the introduction "The following verses, wrote by Mr. Freneau are subjoined to a short and accurate account of the West Indies in the printer's _Pocket Almanac_ for the present year." The t.i.tle of the poem suffered many variations in later editions. In the 1788 edition, where it was reprinted from the _Journal_, it was ent.i.tled "Stanzas written In a blank leaf of Burke's History of the West India Islands," and it was signed "Pennsylvania, 1786." In the 1795 edition it was ent.i.tled "Caribbeana," and in the edition of 1809, the text of which I have followed, it received the t.i.tle above given. The poem was carefully revised for the edition of 1795.

[327]

"While he to tears his heart resign'd With pain he saw the falling leaf; 'And thus (he cry'd) our reign must end, We, like the leaves, must now descend.'"

_Ed. 1788._

[328]

"No other world may share those stores To other worlds so little known." _Ed. 1788._

[329]

"Did more to me than magic seem." _Ib._

ON THE CREW OF A CERTAIN VESSEL[330]

Several of whom happened to be of similar names to Celebrated Foreign Clergymen

In life's unsettled, odd career What changes every day appear To please or plague the eye: A goodly brotherhood of priests Are here transformed to swearing beasts Who heaven and h.e.l.l defy.

Here Bonner, bruised with many a knock, Has changed his surplice for a frock; Old Erskine swabs the decks, And Watts, who once such pleasure took In writing Hymns--here, turned a cook, Sinners no longer vex.

Here Burnet, Tillotson, and Blair, With Jemmy Hervey, curse and swear, Here Cudworth mixes grog; Pearson the crew to dinner hails, A graceless Sherlock trims the sails, And Bunyan heaves the log.

[330] The index to the edition of 1795 instead of "vessel" gives "s.h.i.+p of war." The text follows the edition of 1809.

THE BERMUDA ISLANDS[331]

"Bermuda, walled with rocks, who does not know, That happy island, where huge lemons grow," &c.

_Waller's Battle of the Summer Islands._

These islands fair with many a grove are crowned, With cedars tall, gay hills, and verdant vales, But dangerous rocks on every side is found, Fatal to him who unsuspecting sails.

The gay Palmetto shades the adjacent wave: Blue, ocean water near the lime-tree breaks!-- I leave the scene!--this stormy quarter leave, And rove awhile by Harrington's sweet lake.

In every vale fair woodland nymphs are seen In bloom of youth, to mourn some absent love, Who, wandering far on Neptune's rude domain, Heaves the fond sigh at every new remove.

From hill to hill I see Amanda stray, Searching, with anxious view, the encircling main, To espy the sail, so long, so far away, Rise from the waves, and bless her sight again.