The Poems of Philip Freneau - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Pearson as yet disdain'd to yield, But scarce his secret fears conceal'd, And thus was heard to cry-- "With h.e.l.l, not mortals, I contend; "What art thou--human, or a fiend, "That dost my force defy?
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"Return, my lads, the fight renew!"
So call'd bold Pearson to his crew; But call'd, alas! in vain; Some on the decks lay maim'd and dead; Some to their deep recesses fled, And more were bury'd in the main.[44]
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Distress'd, forsaken, and alone, He haul'd his tatter'd standard down, And yielded to his gallant foe; Bold _Pallas_ soon the _Countess_ took, Thus both their haughty colours struck, Confessing what the brave can do.
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But, Jones, too dearly didst thou buy These s.h.i.+ps possest so gloriously, Too many deaths disgrac'd the fray: Thy barque that bore the conquering flame, That the proud Briton overcame, Even she forsook thee on thy way;
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For when the morn began to s.h.i.+ne, Fatal to her, the ocean brine Pour'd through each s.p.a.cious wound; Quick in the deep she disappear'd, But Jones to friendly Belgia steer'd, With conquest and with glory crown'd.
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Go on, great man, to daunt the foe, And bid the haughty Britons know They to our Thirteen Stars shall bend; The Stars that veil'd in dark attire, Long glimmer'd with a feeble fire, But radiant now ascend;
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Bend to the Stars that flaming rise In western, not in eastern, skies, Fair Freedom's reign restor'd.
So when the Magi, come from far, Beheld the G.o.d-attending Star, They trembled and ador'd.
[42] This was the first poem contributed by Freneau to the _Freeman's Journal_. It appeared August 8, 1781. The exploit of Jones is too well known to need further comment; it took place September 23, 1779. The text follows the edition of 1786.
[43] "Overwhelming half below."--_Ed. 1795._
[44] "And hosts were shrouded in the main."--_Ed. 1795._
AN ADDRESS[45]
To the Commander-in-Chief, Officers, and Soldiers of the American Army
Accept, great men, that share of honest praise A grateful nation to your merit pays: Verse is too mean your merit to display, And words too weak our praises to convey.
When first proud Britain raised her hostile hand With claims unjust to bind our native land, Transported armies, and her millions spent To enforce the mandate that a tyrant sent; "Resist! resist!" was heard through every state, You heard the call, and feared your country's fate; Then rising fierce in arms, for war arrayed, You taught to vanquish those who dared invade.
Those British chiefs whom former wars had crowned With conquest--and in every clime renowned; Who forced new realms to own their monarch's law, And whom even George beheld with secret awe-- Those mighty chiefs, compelled to fly or yield, Scarce dared to meet you on the embattled field; To Boston's port you chased the trembling crew, Quick, even from thence the British veterans flew-- Through wintry waves they fled, and thought each wave Their last, best safety from a foe so brave![46]
What men, like you, our warfare could command, And bring us safely to the promised land?-- Not swoln with pride,[47] with victory elate-- 'Tis in misfortune you are doubly great: When Howe victorious our weak armies chased, And, sure of conquest, laid Cesarea waste, When prostrate, bleeding, at his feet she lay, And the proud victor tore her wreathes away, Each gallant chief[48] put forth his warlike hand And raised the drooping genius of the land, Repelled the foe, their choicest warriors slain, And drove them howling to their s.h.i.+ps again.
While others kindle into martial rage Whom fierce ambition urges to engage, An iron race, by angry heaven designed To conquer first and then enslave mankind; Here chiefs and heroes[49] more humane we see, They venture life, that others may be free.
O! may you live to hail that glorious day When Britain homeward shall pursue her way-- That race subdued, who filled the world with slain And rode tyrannic o'er the subject main!-- What few presumed, you boldly have atchieved, A tyrant humbled, and a world relieved.
O Was.h.i.+ngton, who leadst this glorious train,[50]
Still may the fates thy valued life maintain.-- Rome's boasted chiefs, who, to their own disgrace, Proved the worst scourges of the human race, Pierced by whose darts a thousand nations bled, Who captive princes at their chariots led; Born to enslave, to ravage, and subdue-- Return to nothing when compared to you; Throughout the world your growing fame has spread, In every country are your virtues read; Remotest India hears your deeds of fame, The hardy Scythian stammers at your name; The haughty Turk, now longing to be free, Neglects his Sultan to enquire of thee; The barbarous Briton hails you to his sh.o.r.es, And calls him Rebel, whom his heart adores.
Still may the heavens prolong your vital date, And still may conquest on your banners wait: Whether afar to ravaged lands you go, Where wild Potowmac's rapid waters flow, Or where Saluda laves the fertile plain And, swoln by torrents, rushes to the main; Or if again to Hudson you repair To smite the cruel foe that lingers there-- Revenge their cause, whose virtue was their crime, The exiled hosts from Carolina's clime.
Late from the world in quiet mayest thou rise And, mourned by millions, reach your native skies-- With patriot kings and generous chiefs to s.h.i.+ne, Whose virtues raised them to be deemed divine: May Vasa[A] only equal honours claim, Alike in merits--not the first in fame!
[A] Gustavus Vasa of Sweden, the deliverer of his country.--_Freneau's note._ In the earlier editions this read _Louis_. First changed for the edition of 1795.
[45] First published in the _Freeman's Journal_, September 5, 1781, under the t.i.tle "To his Excellency General Was.h.i.+ngton," and reprinted without change in the edition of 1786. The same paper contained the following news item: "On Thursday, the 30th of August, at one o'clock in the afternoon, his excellency General Was.h.i.+ngton, Commander-in-chief of the American Armies, accompanied by the Generals Rochambeau and Chattelux, with their respective suites, arrived in this city." The early version was addressed wholly to Was.h.i.+ngton, the opening line reading, "Accept, great chief," etc. For the edition of 1795 it was changed to include officers and soldiers.
[46]
"* * * they fled, and thought the sea With all its storms less terrible than thee!"--_Ed. 1786._
[47] "Not _Clinton-like_."--_Ib._
[48] "You undismay'd."--_Ib._
[49] "In him a hero."--_Ib._
[50] This and the line following not in the original version.
A NEW-YORK TORY[51]
To His Friend in Philadelphia
Dear Sir, I'm so anxious to hear of your health, I beg you would send me a letter by stealth: I hope a few months will quite alter the case, When the wars are concluded, we'll meet and embrace.
For I'm led to believe from our brilliant success, And, what is as clear, your amazing distress, That the cause of rebellion has met with a check That will bring all its patrons to hang by the neck.
Cornwallis has managed so well in the South, Those rebels want victuals to put in their mouth; And Arnold has stript them, we hear, to the buff[52]-- Has burnt their tobacco, and left them--the snuff.
Dear Thomas, I wish you would move from that town Where meet all the rebels of fame and renown; When our armies, victorious, shall clear that vile nest You may chance, though a Tory, to swing with the rest.
But again--on reflection--I beg you would stay-- You may serve us yet better than if moved away-- Give advice to Sir Harry of all that is pa.s.sing, What vessels are building, what cargoes ama.s.sing;
Inform, to a day, when those vessels will sail, That our cruisers may capture them all, without fail-- By proceedings like these, your peace will be made, The rebellious shall swing, but be you ne'er afraid.
I cannot conceive how you do to subsist-- The rebels are starving, except those who 'list; And as you reside in the land of Gomorrah, You must fare as the rest do, I think, to your sorrow.
Poor souls! if ye knew what a doom is decreed, (I mean not for you, but for rebels indeed), You would tremble to think of the vengeance in store, The halters and gibbets--I mention no more.
The rebels must surely conclude they're undone, Their navy is ruined, their armies have run; It is time they should now from delusion awaken-- The rebellion is done--for the _Trumbull_[53] is taken!
[51] _Freeman's Journal_, September 5, 1781.
