The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume III Part 22

No sacred reliques from some saintly grave, No saint Sebastian shall from ruin save: All, all must yield; submissive to the dart Of Gaul's firm legions led by Bonaparte, Who, sent by heaven, to Rome's disastrous walls Loud and more loud for his last victim calls; While superst.i.tion's dark inveterate train Turns pale, and sickens at their blasted reign, And hosts reviving, round the standard throng, Exult, and wonder how they slept so long.

[99] From the edition of 1815.

ON THE DEATH OF CATHARINE II[100]

Empress of all the Russias

Confusion to that iron sway Which bids the brute, not man, obey, And dooms him to Siberian soil, Chains, whips, and va.s.salage, and toil.

This female wolf, whom wolves did nurse, So long of polar worlds the curse, This Catharine, skill'd in royal arts, To the dark world at last departs.

In style, the second of her name, She to the crown by treason came; To Peter, drowsy, royal drone, She gave a prison for a throne.

She would have sent her Tartar bands To waste and ravage gallic lands, She would have sent her legions o'er, Columbia! to invade your sh.o.r.e!--

But, even in conquest, she foresaw Destruction to despotic law; She fear'd, in hordes returning home, That liberty would with them come.

She fear'd the savage from the den Would see and learn the rights of men; And hence, in time, destruction bring To h.e.l.l's vicegerents--queen and king.

No thanks to her! she fear'd her beasts, Enslaved by kings, enslaved by priests, Even if all freedom they o'er ran, Would learn the dignity of man;

And kept them home, and held them there, Oppression's iron reign to bear; And never meet a beam of light, Involved in worse than Zembla's night.

Now she is dead, and Paul will rise As fierce as she, but not as wise; He may his barbarous millions send, He may the fall of France intend;

But they who see with keener eye Will see them faint, will see them fly; With hostile step will see them come To turn their backs, or meet their doom.

[100] From the edition of 1815. Catharine II died November 6, 1796.

PREFATORY LINES[101]

To a Periodical Publication

Wherever this volume[102] may chance to be read For the feast of good humor a table I spread; Here are dishes by dozens; whoever will eat Will have no just cause to complain of the treat.

If the best of the market is not to be had I'll help you to nothing that's seriously bad;[103]

To sense and to candor no place I refuse, Pick here and pick there, and wherever you choose.[104]

If I give you a frolic I hope for no fray; My style I adapt to the taste of the day, The feast of amus.e.m.e.nt we draw from all climes, The best we can give in a run of hard times.[105]

The guest, whom the pepper of satire may bite Is wrong, very wrong, if he shows us his spite;[106]

Should a fit of resentment be-ruffle his mind, Sit still, I would tell him, be calm and resign'd.[107]

In the service of freedom forever prepared, We have done[108] our endeavor the G.o.ddess to guard; This idol, whom reason should only adore, And banish'd from Europe,[109] to dwell on our sh.o.r.e.

In a country like this, exalted by fame, The trade of an author[110] importance may claim Which monarchs would never permit them to find, Whose views are to chain and be-darken the mind.

Ye sons of Columbia! our efforts befriend; To you all the tyrants of Europe shall bend Till reason at length shall illumine the ball[111]

And man from his state of debas.e.m.e.nt recall.

Republics of old, that are sunk in the dust, Could once like our own, of their liberty boast; Both virtue and wisdom in Athens appear'd, Each eye saw their charms, and all bosoms revered.

But as virtue and morals fell into disgrace Pride, splendor, and folly stept into their place; Where virtues domestic no longer were known, Simplicity lost, and frugality flown.

Where the virtues, that always a republic adorn, Were held in contempt, or were laugh'd into scorn, There, tyrants and slaves were the speedy effect Of virtue dishonor'd or fall'n to neglect:[112]

Then tyrants and slaves, the worst plagues of this earth, From the lapse of good manners[113] were hatch'd into birth; And soon the base maxim all popular grew, And allowed, that the many were made for the few.

From the fate of republics, or Athens, or Rome, Tis time we should learn a sad lesson at home-- From their faults and their errors a warning receive, And steer from the shoals where they both found a grave.

Columbians! forever may freedom remain, And virtue forever that freedom maintain; To these, all attracting, all views should submit All labors of learning, all essays of wit.

Tis time a new system of things was embraced To prevail on a planet so often debased;[114]

As here, with our freedom, that system began, Here, at least keep it pure--for the honor of man.

[101] From the edition of 1815. This was Freneau's salutatory in the first number of the _Time-Piece_, March 13, 1797. Here it bore the t.i.tle "Poetical Address" and differed in many respects from the final version.

I have indicated in the following notes only the most significant revisions.

[102] "Our pages."--_Time-Piece._

[103] "We'll mend what is middling, and better the bad."--_Ib._

[104] "And give the due substance and sum of the NEWS."--_Ib._

[105]

"Embark'd on this ocean, and wis.h.i.+ng no fray, We'll strive for a chance with the prints of the day; The news of all nations import from all climes, And carefully copy _the cast of_ THE TIMES."--_Time-Piece._

[106] "In political squib or poetical wit."--_Ib._

[107] "He's equally free _to return it in kind_."--_Ib._

[108] "We'll join."--_Ib._

[109] "Britain."--_Ib._

[110] "_Of the_ PRESS."--_Ib._