The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume III Part 41

For this we saw you rove the southern waste In our Columbia's milder climates placed, Those happier sh.o.r.es, where Carolina proves The friend of Princeton's academic groves, Where Georgia owns the wreath to science due And honor'd science, genius, art, and you: And Charleston every generous wish return'd, Sigh'd for the loss, and for her favorite mourn'd, Proud of her sons, who by your cares are seen Lights of the world, and pride of social man.

There Ramsay met you, esculapian sage, The famed historian of a warring age, His word gave vigor to your vast design, And his strong efforts equall'd all but thine.

Na.s.sau revived, from thence in time proceed Chiefs, who shall empire sway, or legions lead, Who, warm'd with all that philosophic glow Which Greece, or Rome, or reasoning powers bestow, Shall to mankind the friends and guardians be Shall make them virtuous, and preserve them free.

From that lost pile, which, now to ashes turn'd; The sage regretted and the muses mourn'd, Sprung, once, a race who firm to freedom's cause, Repell'd oppression and despotic laws, Unsceptered kings, or one at least dismiss'd, With half the lords and prefects on his list: Such, early, here imbibed the sacred flame That glanced from heaven, or from true science came; With these enroll'd, be every honor done To our firm statesman, patriot, Madison, Form'd to the purpose of a reasoning age, To raise its genius, and direct its rage.

This tribute from a friendly heart receive, O Smith! which must your kind indulgence crave, If half a stranger to the poet's lay, It fails your just, your due reward to pay.

[177] The text is from the edition of 1815. The interior of Na.s.sau Hall was destroyed by fire March 6, 1802. The damage was promptly repaired by generous contributions from the alumni and friends of the inst.i.tution.

President Smith took an active part in the work of rebuilding and it was in no small measure due to his efforts that the edifice was so quickly restored.

Na.s.sau Hall, the oldest and because of its historical a.s.sociations the most interesting of the Princeton buildings, was erected in 1756 from plans drawn by Robert Smith and Dr. s.h.i.+ppen of Philadelphia. It was for many years the handsomest and most commodious academic structure in the colonies and as such attracted no little attention. During the Revolution it served repeatedly as barracks and hospital for both armies and suffered considerable damage. From the 26th of June until the 4th of November, 1783, it was the national capitol. Within its walls the Congress of the nation found a safe retreat and for more than four months held quiet session in the s.p.a.cious library-room remote from the mutinous troops at Philadelphia. Here the Minister from the States General of Holland, the first amba.s.sador accredited to America after the declaration of peace was received, and here the grateful acknowledgments of Congress were tendered Was.h.i.+ngton for his services in establis.h.i.+ng the freedom and independence of the United States.

STANZAS

PUBLISHED AT THE PROCESSION TO THE TOMB OF THE PATRIOTS

In the Vicinity of the Former Stations of the Prison s.h.i.+ps, at New-York.[178]

Beneath these banks, along this sh.o.r.e, And underneath the waters, more Forgotten corpses rest; More bones by cruelty consigned To death, than shall be told mankind To chill the feeling breast:

More bones of those who, dying here In floating dungeons, anch.o.r.ed near, A prey to fierce disease, Than fame in her recording page Will tell some late enquiring age, When telling things like these.

Ah me! what ills, what sighs, what groans, What spectre forms, what moving moans, What woes on woes were found; When here oppressed, insulted, crossed, The vigour of the soul was lost In miseries thickening round.

The youths of firm undaunted mind, To climate nor to coast confined, All misery taught to bear-- I saw them, as the sail they spread, I saw them by misfortune led To capture, and to care.

Though night and storms were round them cast, They climbed the well-supported mast, And reefed the fluttering sail; Though thunders roared and lightnings glared, They toil, nor death, nor danger feared, They braved the loudest gale.--

Great Cause, that brought them all their woe: Thou, Freedom!--bade their spirits glow; But forced, at last, to yield, Died in despair each sickening crew: They vanished from the world--but you, Columbia, kept the field.

They sunk, unpitied, in their bloom,-- They scarcely found a shallow tomb To hide the naked bones: For, feeble was the nervous hand That once could toil, or once command The force of Neptune's sons.

In aid of that immortal cause Which spurned at England's tyrant laws, These pa.s.sed the troubled main; They dared the seas she called her own, To meet the ruffians of a throne, And honour's purpose gain.

All generous--while that power was proved, To war the brave adventurers moved, And catched the seaman's art, Met on their own domain, the crew Of foreign slaves, that never knew The independent heart.

Thou, Independence, vast design; The efforts of the brave were thine, When doubtful all, and dark; It was a chaos to explore; It seemed all sea, without a sh.o.r.e, Nor on that sea an ark.

For You, the young, the firm, the brave, Too often met an early grave, Unnoticed and unknown: On naked sh.o.r.es were seen to lie, In scorching heats were doomed to die With agonizing groan.

By strength, or chance, if some survived Disease, which hosts of life deprived, That life they should devote, To venture all in Freedom's cause, To combat tyrants, and their laws, So felt near this sad spot.

Yes--and the spirit which began, (We swear by all that's great in man) That spirit shall go on, To brighten and illume the mind, 'Till tyrants vanish from mankind And Tyranny is Done.

[178] From the edition of 1809.

THE TOMB OF THE PATRIOTS[179][A]

Quae Tiberine, videbis Funera, c.u.m, tumulum praeter labore recentum! _Virg._

[A] Occasioned by the general procession of many thousands of the citizens of New York on the 26th of May, 1808, to inter the bones and skeletons of american prisoners who perished in the old Jersey, and other prison s.h.i.+ps, during the revolutionary war; and which were now first discovered by the wasting of the sh.o.r.es and banks on Long Island, where they had been left.--_Freneau's note._

When Philip's son possess'd his native lands And train'd on grecian fields his grecian bands, In Thebes subdued, or Athens near her fall, He saw no honor, or despised it all.

To be reduced to universal sway The world's vast prospect in perspective lay;-- While yet restricted to Larissa's plain He cursed his fortune for a lot so mean, On all his steps the gloom of sadness hung, And fierce resentment all his bosom stung That fortune's whim restrain'd to such a floor, Had done so little, and might do no more.

Mercantile Tyre his laboring mind oppress'd, The persian throne deprived his soul of rest-- The world his stage, he meant to play his part, And unsubjected India gall'd his heart!

Look to the east where Tamerlane display'd His crescent[B] moons and nations prostrate laid, March where he would, the world before him bow'd In conquest mighty, as of conquest proud-- What was the event? let tragic story tell While sad sensations in the bosom swell-- What were the effects? in every step we trace The wasteful havoc of a royal race, Once fertile fields a howling desert made The town in ashes, or the town decay'd, Degraded man to native wildness turn'd, His prospects clouded and his commerce spurn'd-- If such the outset of this mad career What will the last disgusting scene appear, Of all he conquer'd, when no more remains Than vagrant subjects, or unpeopled plains!

[B] The three crescent moons in the turkish military standard, which had their origin, it is said, from the asiatic Tartars. Timurbeck (or Tamerlane) was of tartarian extraction.--_Freneau's note._

Thus, when ambition prompts the ardent mind, The soul, eccentric, frantic, unconfined, To peace a stranger, soars to heights unknown, And, slighting reason, yields the will to none; Mere pa.s.sion rules, degrading powers prevail, And cool reflection quits the unbalanced scale.

It leaves the haunts of happiness and rest To float on winds, disorder'd and unblest, Quits all the calm that nature meant for man To find some prize, or form the aspiring plan; That plan ungain'd, the object cheats the view, Or, if attain'd, they other marks pursue; Till all is closed in disappointment's shade And folly wonders at the flight she made: Ambition's self finds every prospect vain, The visions vanish, and the glooms remain.

And such the vice, with nations as with man, Such the great failing since the world began: To power exalted, as to power they rose By honest toils, and humbling all their foes; That zenith gain'd, they covet vast domains And all, that pride from vast possession gains, Till glittering visions bring the uneasy sigh And uncontrol'd dominion blasts the eye.

Britain! we cite you to our bar, once more; What but ambition urged you to our sh.o.r.e?-- To abridge our native rights, seven years you strove; Seven years were ours your arm of death to prove, To find, that conquest was your sovereign view; Your aims, to fetter, humble, and subdue, To seize a soil which not your labor till'd When the rude native scarcely we repell'd, When, with unbounded rage, their nations swore To hurl the out-law'd stranger from their sh.o.r.e, Or swell the torrent with their thousands slain No more to approach them, or molest their reign.--

What did we ask?--what right but reason owns?

Yet even the mild pet.i.tion met your frowns.

Submission, only, to a monarch's will Could calm your rage, or bid your storm be still,

Before our eyes the angry shades appear Of those, whose relics we this day inter: They live, they speak, reproach you, and complain Their lives were shorten'd by your galling chain: They aim their shafts, directed to your breast,-- Let rage, and fierce resentment tell the rest.

These coffins, tokens of our last regard, These mouldering bones your vengeance might have spared.-- If once, in life, they met you on the main, If to your arms they yielded on the plain,-- Man, once a captive, all respect should claim That Britain gave, before her days of shame.

How changed their lot! in floating dungeons thrown, They sigh'd unpitied, and relieved by none: In want of all that nature's wants demand, They met destruction from some traitor's hand, Who treated all with death or poison here, Or the last groan, with ridicule severe.

A sickening languor to the soul returns And kindling pa.s.sion at the motive spurns: The murders here, did we at length display Would more than paint an indian tyrant's sway: Then hush the theme, and to the dust restore These, once so wretched near Manhattan's sh.o.r.e, When tyrants ruled, whose hearts no mercy felt: In blood they wallow'd as in death they dealt.

Thou who shalt come, by sad reflection taught, To seek on Na.s.sau's isle this lonely vault; Think, when surveying this too gloomy scene, Think what, had heaven decreed, you might have been.

When, with the rest, you pa.s.s'd the weary hour Chain'd or subjected to some ruffian's power, Think, as you see the sad procession pa.s.s'd, Think what these are, and you must be at last.--

Learn, as you hope to find your heart's applause, To love your country and respect her laws; Revere the sages, who your rights explain'd, Revere the patriots, who your cause sustain'd.

Your country's Hero, rising to your view, Attend his precepts, and with care pursue, He first to s.h.i.+eld you, rais'd his powerful arm, To honor steady as for freedom warm; When she relumed her half-extinguish'd fire, Then, not till then, did Was.h.i.+ngton retire, And left a light, a radiance to display, And mark his efforts, when he led the way.

When war's long waste your independence crown'd And Hudson heard th' invigorating sound!

His was the task; to him the part a.s.sign'd To paralize the vultures of mankind.

Admit no tyrants, to debase your minds; Some selfish motive to all tyrants binds; If robed in ermine or in scarlet clad, The worst of idiots is a king run mad: And Rome's worst prince accomplish'd by a word No more, than by his councils, George the third!