The Poems of Philip Freneau - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Who looks at Kings, a court, a queen, With childish pomp, and borrowed fame, But wonders from what genius mean Their chaos of confusion came-- Yet those on little things depend, And every reptile is their friend.
ODE V[135]
TO PETER PORCUPINE
"That one may write--and write--and be a villain, "At least, I'm sure it may be so in--Denmark."--_Hamlet._
"While with the loss of blood and spirits some faint, "Others are seen to rise, triumphant, "O'er slaughter'd thousands sent to Pluto's sh.o.r.es, "Where Stygian water in dull torrent roars-- "What hosts, what myriads fell, "By lancet and by calomell, "All gone, in Philadelphia's epidemic, "And sent the substance of mankind to mimic."
So said that Man divine Bold Peter Porcupine, Who through these climes his vast subscription spread, And rais'd four thousand ghosts; and struck with dread, All Democratic knaves, Disorganizing slaves-- He with bold wit, And spirit and spit, From Nova Scotia to the woods of Maine, True federalism did maintain; And through those mighty thriving states, Distributed his dainty, blackguard bits.
Ah--Peter!--Thou, poor lousy numps Who loadest little horses' rumps, And mak'st them trot and sweat, On sandy road Beneath the load Of trash call'd _Peter Porcupine's Gazette_.
What have you done to claim Columbia's love That she--like some base-- Should court a scoundrel from a foreign sh.o.r.e And make him tool to--some apostate Jove,
Ah! now I see poor Carolina's horses, With pedlar's pack, Pil'd high on back, Pursuing their mean, blackguard courses, Through solitary groves and woods of pine Transporting Goods, like thine, --------d.a.m.ned stuff!
Of which Columbia, sure, has had--enough-- There Pickens, Sumpter, Greene, for freedom fought, And Liberty her wonders wrought.
What do I hear? And have we lent thee wings To waft thy poison into Eutaw Springs?
Those, clearer than Castalia's waters, found, For many a hero, dead, who might have claim'd Life--but for brutish George, Who, having robb'd and plunder'd half the east, Came here to close his Vulture's feast.
Now, Peter! take advice from Doctor Rush; And--convert to the system you would crush; Pray, let him draw your blackguard blood; (And calomell might, also, do some good.) Four thousand drops exhausted from your veins Will save the future exercise of canes: And, tell him to be speedy with his lancet, For 'tis a truth; and many dare advance it, That howe'er in life well fed, No Doctor bleeds a man--when dead.
ODE VI[136]
ADDRESS TO A LEARNED PIG
Of Particular Eminence, who, in a certain Great City, was visited by Persons of the First Taste and Distinction
O thou, marked out by Fate from vulgar swine, Among the learned of our age to s.h.i.+ne, On whom 'squires, ladies, parsons, come to gaze, Bold, science-loving pig, Who, without gown or wig Can force your way through learning's th.o.r.n.y maze --How many high learned wights in days of old (Whom Fame has with the great enrolled) Starved by their wits--were banished, hanged, or sold; --While you, on better ages fallen, O lucky swine!
Can by your wit on pyes and sweetmeats dine--
When house and lands are gone and spent, Then learning is most excellent-- (So says a proverb through the world well known)-- You, that were pigged to grovel in a stye, Have left your swill for science high:-- Without a rival of your race, You hold a most distinguished place-- All that the heart can wish flows in to you, Who real happiness pursue, And are well fed, on whate'er hog stye thrown.
Now, if one had the chance to choose one's state On this world's stage, and not controuled by Fate, Who would not wish to have his little brains Lodged in the head of Learned Pig, Rather than be a man, and toil, and sweat, and dig With all the sense the human scull contains.
With Us, we all are wise, we all things know, But every pig--inferior is to you-- The rest are fools and simpletons--and so-- What, next, will be the science You attain?
Science!--to You, that opens all her store?-- Already have you in your sapient brain More than most aldermen--and gumption more Than some, who capers cut on Congress floor.
May we not hope, in this improving age Of human things--to see on Terra's stage Hogs take the lead of men, and from their styes To honours, riches, office, rise!
Adepts in Latin, Commerce, Physick, Law?-- From what is seen, such inference we draw--
ODE VII[137]
ON THE FEDERAL CITY
"Thus Cain of old, poor Abel slain, "Departing from his native plain, "In land of Nod, beneath the heaven's frowns, "Built sky-topt towers and federal towns."
Enough of learned pigs, Pigg'd for immense designs, And shame our men of mighty wigs-- Enough of Peter Porcupines, Whose quills, like pop-guns shooting at a fort, Be sure have done the Demos mighty hurt, A subject now of real weight inspires, That soon will kindle every muse's fires, No less than federal town, Immortal in renown, Which in her district--ten miles square The center fills, like spider in her web Catching all silly flies that venture near, And fattening on the folly of the tribe.
When fates decreed, Or nature said "This spot is destin'd for a future town,"
Between them both they so contriv'd the matter (Altho' perhaps not wholly wrong the latter) That this should be a town of silent halls And like Palmyra famous in the east, Erect her columns huge and lofty walls-- Yet there in vain for men do travellers seek, And hardly meet a townsman once a week!
Virginia's sons, as through this town they pa.s.s Each cries, "Alas, No sound of fiddle here, All dull and drear, No merry bells that jingle on the ear, No glittering females, b.a.l.l.s, or billiards dear-- No fighting c.o.c.ks, no gallant steeds for racing: Well-stap my vitals--is it not distressing?
No gallant s.h.i.+p with canvas swelling high Engag'd in war or commerce pa.s.ses by; But corn-boats mean from Alleghany hills, Or buck-wheat laden hulks from country mills!"
Amidst these huge hotels and regal domes Frequent some townsman walks, as midst the tombs, And cries, "The founders of this city blundered In rearing up such piles for eighteen hundred: Waiting for that must Congress absent stay?-- Ah! curse the Law's delay!
Rather than hold them there, (Though, doubtless, it may sadly grieve her) May Philadelphia twelve months every year Be plagu'd and blooded for the yellow fever!"
ODE VIII[138]
ON THE CITY ENCROACHMENTS ON THE RIVER HUDSON
Where Hudson, once, in all his pride In surges burst upon the sh.o.r.e They plant amidst his flowing tide Moles, to defy his loudest roar; And lofty mansions grow where late Half Europe might discharge her freight.
From northern lakes and wastes of snow The river takes a distant rise, Now marches swift, now marches slow, And now adown some rapid flies Till join'd the Mohawk, in their course They travel with united force.
But cease, nor with too daring aim Encroach upon this giant flood; No rights reserved by nature, claim, Nor on his ancient bed intrude:-- The river may in rage awake And time restore him all you take.
The eastern stream, his sister, raves To see such moles her peace molest A London built upon her waves, The weight of mountains on her breast: With quicken'd flow she seeks the main As on her bed new fabrics gain.
Bold streams! and may our verse demand Is there not coast for many a mile, And soils, as form'd by nature's hand That border all Manhattan's isle: Then why these mounds does avarice raise And build the haunts of pale disease.
Yet in your aim to clip their wing (It asks no wizard to descry,) That time the woful day will bring When Hudson's pa.s.sion, swelling high, May in a foam his wrongs repay And sweep both house and wharf away.
ODE IX[139]
ON THE FRIGATE CONSt.i.tUTION
"And in those days men settled themselves on the waters, and lived there, not because land was wanting, but that they wished to be slaves to such as were great and mighty on the land."--_Modern History._
Thus launch'd at length upon the main And soon prepar'd the seas to roam, In your capacious breast ere long Will many an idler find a home That sells his freedom for a song, Quits fields and trees For boisterous seas, To tread his native soil no more, And see--but not possess the sh.o.r.e.
Well! let them go--can there be loss In those who Nature's bounty slight, From rural vales and freedom's shades To this dull cage who take their flight, The axe, the hoe, The plough forego, The buxom milk-maid's simple treat, The bliss of country life forget, For tumult here And toil severe, A gun their pillow when they sleep, And when they wake, are wak'd to weep.
d.i.c.k Brothers said, "The time will come, "When war no more shall prowl the sea, "Nor men for pride or plunder roam, "And my millenium brings them home, "How'eer dispers'd through each degree."
If Richard proves a prophet true, Why may not we be quiet too, And turn our bull-dogs into lambs, Saw off the horns of battering rams As well as Europe's sons?
Ye Quakers! see with pure delight, The times approach when men of might, And squadrons roving round the ball, Shall fight each other not at all, Or fight with wooden guns.
And yet that Being you address Who shaped old Chaos into form, May speak--and with a word suppress The tryant and the storm.
ODE X[140]
