My ready muse is pleas'd to squint her
Eye on worthy, Walpole printer,*

Who wraps in paper of each week
What relishes of true antique,

Το greet each good and letter'd man

A journal form'd on generous plan :
None of your dull mechanick Dutch-things,
But fraught with poetry and such things.
With politicians, wise as Solon,t

With "Preacher," "Hermit," " Spondee," "Co

lon;"

* Mr. Carlisle printed the newspaper (in Walpole, in New Hampshire, New England) in which this production was first published. It was reprinted in pamphlets, and had an extensive circulation throughout the United States. Mr. Carlisle's newspaper was, at that time, edited by JOSEPH DENNIE, Esq. Mr. Dennie now conducts, at Philadelphia, a literary paper, called the "Port Folio," which has obtained great and deserved celebrity throughout the United States. Mr. DENNIE, in this and some other poetical productions, was the author's Mentor :—

"Thou knowest, when Indolence possess'd me all, "How oft I rous'd, at thy inspiring call,

"Burst from the siren's fascinating power,

"And gave the muse thou lov'st one studious hour."

GIFFORD.

The author, in this, and a number of the following

With pointed, pretty, pithy "Peter,"

Whom ladies style the charming creature,
And chaunt his sentimental metre.

My mind with rapture swells, when e'er I
Contemplate brother" Hesdin Beri,"
And "Critick," with an eagle-ken,
Skill'd to discern the faultering pen;
Who ably plies the polish'd file,
To give new gloss to Churchill's style,
And strives to make each rhyming elf
As pure a writer as himself.

And bids instructed taste to scorn
The sound of Della Crusca's horn;

But swift to Elysian fields elope,
Hearkening to poetry and Pope :

To "Common Sense," and sober "Moralist,"
Who highly ornament our thorough list,

To them, with sage Apollo's leave, I
Erect a "Monumentum Evi.”

lines, "pours the tributary lay," in due homage to the essayists and poets, who condescended to make the Walpole newspaper the vehicle for their useful and entertaining productions.

Now, courteous reader, since awhile

To sing in Della Cruscan style,

By frolick Fancy born along,

WE'VE STEMM'D THE CATARACT OF SONG ;*

'Tis time, I think, with aching heart,

For Muse, and you, and I, to part; '
Still cherishing the hope, however,
That we three gentlefolks, so clever,
When eke another season passes,
May meet on summit of Parnassus,
And trill a New Year's Ode, sublimer
Than ever flow'd from lip of rhymer.†

* A sneer at Della Crusca's "Cataract of Light.”

† In this expectation, however, the author, and perhaps some of his readers, were disappointed. Sickness rendered it impossible for him, at the commencement of the year, 1799, to wait on his Parnassian acquaintance.

G 2

SONG.

WRITTEN FOR THE OCCASION, AND SUNG IN NEW

YORK, JULY THE FOURTH, 1805.

The reader will perceive that it is a professed parody on the beautiful sailor's song of "Lash'd to the Helm."

WHEN cannons roar, when bullets fly,
And shouts and groans affright the sky,
Amid the battle's dire alarms,

I'll think, my Mary, on thy charms;
The crimson field

Fresh proof shall yield

Of thy fond soldier's love;

And thy dear form

In battle's storm

His guardian angel prove.

Should dangers thicken all around,

And dying warriours strew the ground,

In varied shapes, though death appear,

Thy fancied form my soul shall cheer; The crimson field

Fresh proof shall yield

Of thy fond soldier's love;
And thy dear form

In battle's storm

His guardian angel prove.

And when loud cannons cease to roar,

And when the din of battle's o'er,

When safe return'd from war's alarms,

O then I'll feast on Mary's charms!

In ecstacy

I'll fly to thee

My ardent passion prove,

Left glory's field,

My life I'll yield

To all the joys of love.