Title Page to an Early Freneau Collection
On The Death Of Dr. Benjamin Franklin
Thus, some tall tree that long hath stood
The glory of its native wood,
By storms destroyed, or length of years,
Demands the tribute of our tears.
The pile, that took long time to raise,
To dust returns by slow decays:
But, when its destined years are o'er,
We must regret the loss the more.
So long accustomed to your aid,
The world laments your exit made;
So long befriended by your art,
Philosopher, 'tis hard to part!--
When monarchs tumble to the ground,
Successors easily are found:
But, matchless FRANKLIN! what a few
Can hope to rival such as YOU,
Who seized from kings their sceptered pride,
And turned the lightning darts aside.
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Thus, some tall tree that long hath stood
The glory of its native wood,
By storms destroyed, or length of years,
Demands the tribute of our tears.
The pile, that took long time to raise,
To dust returns by slow decays:
But, when its destined years are o'er,
We must regret the loss the more.
So long accustomed to your aid,
The world laments your exit made;
So long befriended by your art,
Philosopher, 'tis hard to part!--
When monarchs tumble to the ground,
Successors easily are found:
But, matchless FRANKLIN! what a few
Can hope to rival such as YOU,
Who seized from kings their sceptered pride,
And turned the lightning darts aside.
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In spite of all the learn'd have said; I still my old opinion keep, The posture, that we give the dead, Points out the soul's eternal sleep. Not so the ancients of these lands -- The Indian, when from life releas'd Again is seated with his friends, And shares gain the joyous feast. His imag'd birds, and painted bowl, And ven'son, for a journey dress'd, Bespeak the nature of the soul, Activity, that knows no rest. His bow, for action ready bent, And arrows, with a head of stone, Can only mean that life is spent, And not the finer essence gone. ------------------------------------------------ Thou, who on some dark mountain's brow Hast toil'd thy life away till now, And often from that rugged steep Beheld the vast extended deep, Come from thy forest, and with me Learn what it is to go to sea. There endless plains the eye surveys As far from land the vessel strays; No longer hill nor dale is seen, The realms of death intrude between, But fear no ill; resolve, with me To share the dangers of the sea. But look not there for verdant fields-- Far different prospects Neptune yields; Green seas shall only greet the eye, Those seas encircled by the sky. Immense and deep—come then with me And view the wonders of the sea. ------------------------------------------------------- |
The Indian Burying Ground
Thou, stranger, that shalt come this way. No fraud upon the dead commit -- Observe the swelling turf, and say They do not lie, but here they sit. Here still lofty rock remains, On which the curious eye may trace, (Now wasted, half, by wearing rains) The fancies of a older race. Here still an aged elm aspires, Beneath whose far -- projecting shade (And which the shepherd still admires The children of the forest play'd! There oft a restless Indian queen (Pale Shebah, with her braided hair) And many a barbarous form is seen To chide the man that lingers there. ------------------------------------------------ Captain Jones's Invitation Yet sometimes groves and meadows gay Delight the seamen on their way; From the deep seas that round us swell With rocks the surges to repel Some verdant isle, by waves embrac'd, Swells, to adorn the wat'ry waste. Though now this vast expanse appear With glassy surface, calm and clear; Be not deceiv'd—'tis but a show, For many a corpse is laid below-- Even Britain's lads—it cannot be-- They were the masters of the sea! Now combating upon the brine, Where ships in flaming squadrons join, At every blast the brave expire 'Midst clouds of smoke, and streams of fire; But scorn all fear; advance with me-- 'Tis but the custom of the sea. --------------------------------------------------------- |
By midnight moons, o'er moistening dews, In habit for the chase array'd, The hunter still the deer pursues, The hunter and the deer, a shade! And long shall timorous fancy see The painted chief, and pointed spear, And reason's self shall bow the knee To shadows and delusions here. ------------------------------------------------ Now we the peaceful wave divide, On broken surges now we ride, Now every eye dissolves with woe As on some lee-ward coast we go— Half lost, half buried in the main Hope scarcely beams on life again. Above us storms distract the sky, Beneath us depths unfathom'd lie, Too near we see, a ghastly sight, The realms of everlasting night, A wat'ry tomb of ocean green And only one frail plank between! But winds must cease, and storms decay, Not always lasts the gloomy day, Again the skies are warm and clear, Again soft zephyrs fan the air, Again we find the long lost shore, The winds oppose our wish no more. If thou hast courage to despise The various changes of the skies, To disregard the ocean's rage, Unmov'd when hostile ships engage, Come from thy forest, and with me Learn what it is to go to sea. |