The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume III Part 39

In raptures with a theme so great, While thy famed actions they relate, Each future age from thee shall know All that is good and great below; Shall glow with pride to hand thee down To latest time, to long renown, The brightest name on freedom's page, And the first honor of our age.

[170] From the 1815 edition.

STANZAS[171]

Occasioned by certain absurd, extravagant, and even blasphemous panegyrics and encomiums on the character of the late Gen.

Was.h.i.+ngton, that appeared in several pamphlets, journals, and other periodical publications, in January, 1800

No tongue can tell, no pen describe The phrenzy of a numerous tribe, Who, by distemper'd fancy led, Insult the memory of the dead.

Of old, there were in every age Who stuff'd with G.o.ds the historian's page, And raised beyond the human sphere Some who, we know, were mortal here.

Such was the case, we know full well, When darkness spread her pagan spell; Mere insects, born for tombs and graves, They changed into celestial knaves; Made some, condemn'd to tombs and shrouds, Lieutenant generals in the clouds.

In journals, meant to spread the news, From state to state--and we know whose-- We read a thousand idle things That madness pens, or folly sings.

Was, Was.h.i.+ngton, your conquering sword Condemn'd to such a base reward?

Was trash, like that we now review, The tribute to your valor due?

One holds you more than mortal kind, One holds you all ethereal mind, This puts you in your saviour's seat, That makes you dreadful in retreat.

One says you are become a star, One makes you more resplendent, far; One sings, that, when to death you bow'd, Old mother nature shriek'd aloud.

We grieve to see such pens profane The first of chiefs, the first of men.-- To Was.h.i.+ngton--a man--who died, As _abba father_ well applied?

Absurdly, in a frantic strain, Why ask him not for sun and rain?-- We sicken at the vile applause That bids him give the ocean laws.

Ye patrons of the ranting strain, What temples have been rent in twain?

What fiery chariots have been sent To dignify the sad event?--

O, ye profane, irreverent few, Who reason's medium never knew: On you she never glanced her beams; You carry all things to extremes.

Shall they, who spring from parent earth, Pretend to more than mortal birth?

Or, to the omnipotent allied, Control his heaven, or join his side?

O, is there not some chosen curse, Some vengeance due, with lightning's force That far and wide destruction spreads, To burst on such irreverent heads!

Had they, in life, be-praised him so, What would have been the event, I know He would have spurn'd them, with disdain, Or rush'd upon them, with his cane.

He was no G.o.d, ye flattering knaves, He own'd no world, he ruled no waves; But--and exalt it, if you can, He was the upright, Honest Man.

This was his glory, this outshone Those attributes you doat upon: On this strong ground he took his stand, Such virtue saved a sinking land.

[171] From the 1815 edition.

TO THE MEMORY OF EDWARD RUTLEDGE, ESQ.[172]

Late Governor of South Carolina

Removed from life's uncertain stage, In virtue firm, in honor clear,-- One of the worthies of our age, Rutledge! resigns his station here.

Alike in arts of war and peace, And form'd by nature to excel, From early Rome and ancient Greece, He modell'd all his actions well.

When Britons came with chains to bind, Or ravage these devoted lands, He our firm league of freedom sign'd And counsell'd how to break their bands.

To the great cause of honor true, He took his part with manly pride, His spirit o'er these regions flew, The patriots' and the soldiers' guide.

In arts of peace, in war's bold schemes Amongst our brightest stars he moved, The Lees, the Moultries, Sumpters, Greenes-- By all admired, by all beloved.

A patriot of superior mould, He dared all foreign foes oppose, Till, from a tyrant's ashes cold, The mighty pile of freedom rose.

In process of succeeding days When peace resumed her joyous reign, With laurel wreaths and twining bays He sought less active life again.

There, warm to plead the orphan's cause From misery's eye to dry the tear, He stood where justice guards the laws At once humane, at once severe.

'Twas not his firm enlighten'd mind, So ardent in affairs of state; 'Twas not that he in armies s.h.i.+ned That made him so completely great:

Persuasion dwelt upon his tongue, He spoke--all hush'd, and all were awed;-- From all he said conviction sprung, And crowds were eager to applaud.

Thus long esteem'd, thus early loved, The tender husband, friend sincere; The parent, patriot, sage, approved, Had now survived his fiftieth year--

Had now the highest honors met That Carolina could bestow; Presiding o'er that potent state Where streams of wealth and plenty flow.

Where labor spreads her rural reign To western regions bold and free; And commerce on the Atlantic main Wafts her rich stores of industry:

Then left this stage of human things To s.h.i.+ne in a sublimer sphere Where time to one a.s.semblage brings All virtuous minds, all hearts sincere.

[172] From the 1815 edition. Edward Rutledge was a member of the Continental Congress from South Carolina and a signer of the Declaration of Independence. He was a conspicuous figure during the whole war. He was elected governor of South Carolina in 1798, but died January 23, 1800, before completing his term.

ON THE DEPARTURE OF PETER PORCUPINE[173]

For England

A bird of night attends the sail That now towards us turns her tail With Porcupine, escaped from jail.