The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume I Part 45

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Unhurt, may'st thou this luscious food enjoy, To fulness feast upon the scaly kind; These, well selected from a thousand more, Delight the taste, and leave no plague behind.

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Nor think Hygeia[B] is a stranger here; To sensual souls the climate may fatal prove, Anguish and death attend, and pain severe, The midnight revel, and licentious love.

[B] G.o.ddess of Health.--_Freneau's note._

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Full many a swain, in youth's serenest bloom, Is borne untimely to this alien clay, Constrain'd to slumber in a foreign tomb, Far from his friends, his country far away.

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Yet, if devoted to a sensual soul, If fondly their own ruin they create, These victims to the banquet and the bowl Must blame their folly only, not their fate.

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But thou, who first drew breath in northern air, At early dawn ascend the sloping hills, And oft' at noon to lime tree shades repair, Where some soft stream from neighbouring groves distils.

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And with it mix the liquid of the lime, The old ag'd essence of the generous cane, And sweetest syrups of this liquorish clime, And drink, to cool thy thirst, and drink again.

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This happy beverage, joy inspiring bowl, Dispelling far the shades of mental night, Wakes bright ideas on the raptur'd soul, And sorrow turns to pleasure and delight.

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Sweet verdant isle, through thy dark woods I rove, And learn the nature of each native tree, The fustick hard, the poisonous manchineel, Which for its fragrant apple pleaseth thee:

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Alluring to the smell, fair to the eye, But deadliest poison in the taste is found-- O shun the dangerous tree, nor taste, like Eve, This interdicted fruit in Eden's ground.

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The lowly mangrove, fond of watry soil, The white bark'd gregory, rising high in air, The mastick in the woods you may descry, Tamarind, and lofty plumb-trees flourish there.

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Sweet orange groves in lonely vallies rise And drop their fruits, unnotic'd and unknown, And cooling acid limes in hedges grow, The juicy lemons swell in shades their own.

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Once in these groves divine Aurelia stray'd!-- Then, conscious nature, smiling, look'd more gay; But soon she left the dear delightful shade, The shade, neglected, droops and dies away,

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And pines for her return, but pines in vain, In distant isles belov'd Aurelia died, Pride of the plains, ador'd by every swain, Sweet warbler of the woods, and of the woods the pride.

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Philander early left this rural maid, Nor yet return'd, by fate compell'd to roam, But absent from the heavenly girl he stray'd, Her charms forgot, forgot his native home.

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O fate severe, to seize the nymph so soon, The nymph, for whom a thousand shepherds sigh, And in the s.p.a.ce of one revolving moon To doom the fair one and her swain to die!

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Sweet, spungy plumbs on trees wide spreading hang, Bell-apples here, suspended, shade the ground, Plump grenadilloes and guavas grey, With melons in each plain and lawn abound.

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The conic form'd cashew, of juicy kind, Which bears at once an apple and a nut; Whose poisonous coat, indignant to the lip, Doth in its cell a wholesome kernel shut.

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The prince of fruits, whom some jayama call, Anana some, the happy flavour'd pine; In which unite the tastes and juices all Of apple, peach, quince, grape, and nectarine,

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Grows to perfection here, and spreads his crest; His diadem toward the parent sun; His diadem, in fiery blossoms drest, Stands arm'd with swords from potent nature won.

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Yon' cotton shrubs with bursting k.n.o.bs behold, Their snow white locks these humble groves array; On slender trees the blus.h.i.+ng coffee hangs Like thy fair cherry, and would tempt thy stay.

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Safe from the winds, in deep retreats, they rise; Their utmost summit may thy arm attain; Taste the moist fruit, and from thy closing eyes Sleep shall retire, with all his drowsy train.

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The spicy berry, they guava call, Swells in the mountains on a stripling tree; These some admire, and value more than all, My humble verse, besides, unfolds to thee.

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The smooth white cedar, here, delights the eye, The bay-tree, with its aromatic green, The sea-side grapes, sweet natives of the sand, And pulse, of various kinds, on trees are seen.

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Here mingled vines that downward shadows cast, Here, cl.u.s.ter'd grapes from loaded boughs depend, Their leaves no frosts, their fruits no cold winds blast, But, rear'd by suns, to time alone they bend.

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The plantane and banana flourish here, Of hasty growth, and love to fix their root Where some soft stream of ambling water flows, To yield full moisture to their cl.u.s.ter'd fruit.

The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume I Part 45

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The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume I Part 45 summary

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