And as through life I've ever been
In height of fashion always seen,
So when I quit this stage, would I
In height of fashion wish to die.
Thus Cynthia spoke, the gay the young,
Admired by all the giddy throng.
Thus fashion bears a potent sway,
And makes a thoughtless world obey.
A solemn truth 's the implication-
The brightest part of the creation
Are falling daily, as we see,
As unripe fruit shook from the tree.
So oft the tender plants are lost,
When nipt by an untimely frost..
How often thoughtless mortals are
Grasping at trifles light as air;
And oft a heaven of purest joys
Is lost for earth's most trifling toys.
Great God! when will mankind be wise,
And learn such fashions to despise?
When will true wisdom be our guide,
And we be freed from pomp and pride?
October 22d, 1807.
King George and his court, as it clearly appears,
To convince us they are not our foes,
Are striving to soothe us, and banish our fears,
Having kindly presented a Rose.*
Beneath this fair Rose, which Britain has sent,
May no briers or thorns lie concealed;
May it shed a sweet fragrance, and yield us content, And friendship and peace take the field.
* The name of the English ambassador.
On reading a piece, the signature of which was "Clitus' Ghost," addressed to an author whose signature was "Clitus."
When ghosts appear, mankind oft tremble,
Their fears are great, they can't dissemble:
But when a paper Ghost appears,
Then Clitus says he has no fears;
Though hosts of Ghosts should him surround,
He'll like a veteran stand his ground.
I've seen his mastiff pass the street,
With crowds of whiffets at his feet,
All snapping, barking with great rage,
Still, he'd jog on, nor would engage:
Sometimes he, with majestic air,
Would deign to look, but still would spare;
So Clitus, like his mastiff Boas,
Minds not a barking, scribbling host,
Hobgoblins, or a paper Ghost.
The following lines were occasioned by my being in company with a person at Bordentown, who endeavored to justify Thomas Paine in the letter which he addressed to General Washington.
Should all earth's sons unite and say,
The sun is dark that gives us day;
Say, would that day-star yield less light,
Or veil his face in gloomy night?
Neither can Callender* or Paine,
Blast or eclipse the honest fame
Of Columbia's favorite son,
The great, immortal Washington.
Callender also wrote against General Washington.
On hearing of the marriage of Mr. Gray, of Providence,
Rhode Island, to Miss Clay, of Savannah.
Last night was joined a Mr. Gray
To an accomplished piece of Clay;
The color of this Clay, 'twas said,
Was called a handsome white and red,
And though not changed, yet still they say,
It's now a very handsome Gray.
The Gun-Boat Fleet in a Mill-pond.
Awake! my humble muse, to sing,
Not of a mortal styled a king;
Not of heroes famed in story,
They 've bards enough to sound their glory;
Mine is a far more pleasing theme-
At Wallabout now may be seen*
Columbia's fleet; to sound its praise
I now my feeble voice would raise.
Behold this fleet in dread array,
In mill-pond safely moored, they say,
In line of battle formed complete,
No doubt is seen this noble fleet.
Truxtun, Decatur, men high famed,
Are not for such a service named;
Their fame has spread from shore to shore,
Columbia's thunderbolts of war:
'Board such a fleet, or I'm mistaken,
Would feel like fish from water taken;
On board this fleet, Columbia's boast,
Those frigate-men would sure be lost:
They, as I'm made to understand,
Are only fit to have command
*The greatest part of the gun-boat fleet, stationed for the defence of the Harbour of New-York, was, when this piece was written, in a tide mill-pond at the Wallabout, near Brooklyn Ferry, on Long-Island.
Of the huge Mammoths of the ocean,
Which are not easy put in motion:
To frigates or ships of the line,
Those sons of Neptune would incline,
Those great, unwieldly aukward things,
Are only fit for use of kings.
It may perhaps seem strange to tell,
That we've a fleet so portable,
A ploughman if he is but brave,
Can take command, and will save
A vast expense to our nation;
This should be had in calculation;
And though he's spent his life on shore,
May soon be hailed a commodore.
This gun-boat plan we should not alter,
For they can fight by land or water-
Amphibious, like the Crocodile,
Which oft lies basking 'long the Nile;
Proud Albion's fleet dare not come near,
Nor will Columbia's sons e'er fear
Their thousand ships, should they appear:
Success does not always belong
To the most powerful and strong;
The Leviathans of the deep
By smaller fish are often beat;
And when attacked do often feel
Wounds deep as from the pointed steel,
Then flounce their aukward tails about,
And sinking, quickly cease to spout.
Britons, we know, are fond of spouting,
And gun-boat fleets are famed for routing
Those sons of arrogance and pride;
This surely will not be denied.
They dare not come though they're so stout,
They dare not come to Wallabout:
We'll fight them there, or would agree
To meet them e'en on Tappan sea.*
Should Albion's sons with all their fire,
Dare but provoke Columbia's ire,
With torpedo, and gun-boats too,
'Gainst us what could those Britons do.
They'd soon retreat, with fear and wonder,
When once they hear our gun-boats thunder.
Since the gun-boat system of defence has been exploded, a very considerable addition has been made to the Navy of the United States, and our officers and seamen have greatly distinguished themselves in every action in which they have been engaged. Several battles, which have been fought by them, are marked with peculiar brilliancy.
On hearing of Bonaparte's marriage with Louisa Maria, daughter of the Emperor Francis, of Germany, June 12th, 1810.
Alas, what direful scenes we now behold!
Scenes that posterity will scarce believe.
To what a wretched state has Europe sunk-
One ruthless tyrant rules her destines:
Except old England, where's the power that dare
Refuse submission to his stern decrees?
Whilst blood and carnage mark his every step,
And crowns and sceptres tumble to the ground,
Firm as a rock Britannia rests secure,
And midst the wreck of nations nobly stands,
Bidding defiance to the tyrant's rage.
*A large bay about twenty miles up Hudson river, which used to be called, by the Albany skippers, Tappan sea.
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