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A POEM, Addressed to the ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. BY A GENTLEMAN OF THE ARMY.
Iam fides, et pax, et honor, pudorque
Priscus, & neglecta redire virtus
Audet, apparetque beata pleno
Copia Cornu.
HORACE.
Incipiunt magni procedere menses.
VIRG.
NEW-HAVEN: Printed by T. and S. GREEN. M,DCC,LXXX.
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TO All the BRAVE MEN, Whether OFFICERS or SOLDIERS, Who compose The ARMIES of the United States, This ADDRESS IS Most respectfully inscribed, BY Their Brother Soldier AND Humble Servant, The AUTHOR.
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PERHAPS the following little Poem may be considered with the more indulgence by the Public, after it is known, that it was actually written, at a period when the Army was in the field, and the Author so far engaged in the duties of his profession, as to have but little leisure for subjects of literature or amusement. And it will not be necessary to demonstrate to those who have the least knowledge of a military life, how unfavourable such a a state is to poetical contemplation. This, it is presumed, may pertinently be urged in excuse for the slighter errors, and inaccuracies of the performance; and the Design must in some measure atone, for any of a different complexion.
To inspire our Countrymen now in arms, or who may hereafter be called into the field, with perseverance and fortitude, thro' every species of difficulty and danger, to continue their exertions for the defence of their country, and the preservation of its Liberties, is the object of this Address.
For this purpose, it was imagined, no considerations could be more effectual, than the recollection of the past, and the anticipation of the future. For where is the man to be found, who, after all that has been done and suffered; after such a profusion of blood, and treasure has been expended; and such important advantages have been obtained; would basely relinquish, and leave unfinished the illustrious task of rearing an EMPIRE, which from its situation, and circumstances, must surpass all that ever have existed, in magnitude, felicity and duration?
Altho' the Author entertains the most sanguine expectations of the gratitude and liberality, with which the Continent will reward those who have literally [Page 6] borne the heat and burden of the day of war; he has not insisted on those pecuniary or slighter considerations: but has attempted, to turn the attention, to the future grandeur, happiness, and glory of the Country, for which we are now contending. —The lands already granted to the Army, first suggested the idea of a military settlement on the Ohio, or in some of those Western regions; whose beauties can never be sufficiently displayed, much less exaggerated by description. The mild temperature and serenity of the air, the salubrity of the climate, the fertility of the soil, the luxuriance of its products, the extent of territory, and the amazing inland navigation, which those boundless lakes, and immeasurable rivers will open; cannot fail one day, to equal that garden of the world to the representation given of it, in the conclusion of the Poem. The possession of such a Country, (rescued from the hand of invasion) in a perfect state of freedom and security, will be a glorious compensation for all our toils and sufferings, and a monument of the most unparalell'd bravery and patriotism to the remotest posterity.—Stimulated with the love of glory, allured by these delightful prospects, and animated with the pleasing hope of the speedy fruition of those rapturous scenes; there are thousands who have drawn the sword, with a resolution never to sheath it, until a happy period is put to the contest.—For himself, the Writer declares, that having already devoted, whatever talents and abilities nature has conferred upon him, to the service of his Country; no efforts that can be made with his voice, his pen, or his sword, shall ever be wanting to confirm its LIBERTIES and INDEPENDENCE.
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An Address to the Army, &c.
YE martial bands! Columbia's fairest pride!
To toils inured, in dangers often try'd;
Ye gallant Youths! whose breasts for glory burn,
Each
[...] aim, and meaner passion spurn;
Ye who unmov'd, in the dread hour have stood,
And smil'd undaunted in the field of blood;
Who greatly dar'd, at Freedom's rapt'rous call
With her to triumph, or with her to fall:
Now brighter days in prospect swift ascend;
Ye sons of fame, the hallow'd theme attend!
The past review, the future scene explore,
And Heav'ns high King, with grateful hearts adore.
What time proud Albion, thund'ring o'er the waves,
Frown'd on her sons, and bade them turn to slaves:
When lost to honor, virtue, glory, shame;
When nought remain'd of Britain, but the name.
The parent State—a parent now no more—
Let loose the hirelings of despotic pow'r,
Urg'd to keen vengeance their relentless ire,
And hop'd submission from their sword and fire.
As when dark clouds, from Andes' tow'ring head,
Roll down the skies, and round th' horizon spread,
With thunders fraught, the black'ning tempest fails,
And bursts tremendous o'er Peruvian vales:
So broke the storm, on Concord's fatal plain;
There fell our brothers, by fierce ruffians slain.
Inglorious deed! to wild despair then driven,
We suppliant made our great appeal to Heaven.
Then the shrill trumpet, echoed from afar,
And sudden blaz'd the wasting flame of war;
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From State to State, swift flew the dire alarms,
And ardent Youths impetuous rush'd to Arms:
To Arms the matrons and the virgins sung,
To Arms their sires, their husbands, brothers sprung,
No dull delay—where'er the sound was heard,
Where the red standards in the air appear'd,
Or where the brazen cannon swell'd the roar,
From bleak Acadia to the Georgian shore.
Now join'd the Crowd, from their far-distant farms,
In rustic guise, and unadorn'd in arms.
Not like their foes, in tinsel trappings gay,
And burnish'd arms that glitter'd on the day;
Who now advanc'd, where Charlestown rear'd its height,
In martial pomp, and claim'd the awful fight;
And proudly deem'd, with one decisive blow,
To hurl destruction on the routed foe—
Not so, just Heav'n had fix'd the great decree,
And bade the sons of freemen still be free;
Bade all their souls with patriot ardor burn,
And taught the finer charms of ease to spurn,
The threats of vengeance, and of death to brave,
To purchase freedom, or a glorious grave.
Long rag'd the contest on th' embattled field;
Nor those would fly, nor these would tamely yield;
'Till Warren fell, in all the boast of arms,
The pride of genius, and unrivall'd charms,
His Country's hope!—full soon the gloom was spread,
Oppress'd with numbers, and their leader dead;
Slow from the field the sullen troops retir'd,
Behind, the hostile flame to Heav'n aspir'd.
The imperious Britons, on the well-sought ground,
No cause for joy, or wanton triumph found;
But saw with grief their dreams of conquest vain,
Felt the deep wounds, and mourn'd their vet'rans slain.
Nor less our woes—Now darkness gather'd round,
The thunder rumbled, and the tempest frown'd;
When lo! to guide us thro' the storm of war
Beam'd the bright splendor of Virginia's Star.
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Oh first of hero's! fav'rite of the skies!
To these dread toils, thy country bade thee rise.
Oh born, beyond the lot of mortals brave!
Thine was the task, a sinking land to save.
For this, from thy lov'd scenes of rural life
Thou boldly plung'd amidst, th' unequal strife:
For this, hast tryed the mountain-weight of care,
The wintry blast, the summer's sultry air;
The autumnal gale, that taints th' infectious breath,
The hour of danger, and the field of death.—
Then the foe trembled, at the well known name,
And raptur'd thousands to his standard came;
His martial skill our rising armies form'd;
His patriot zeal their gen'rous bosoms warm'd,
His voice inspir'd, his god-like presence led,
The Britons saw, and from his presence fled.
But what avails to trace the sate of war,
Thro' iron fields, and point each honor'd scar;
Why should the strain your former woes recall
The tears that wept, a friend or brother's fall,
When by your side, first in the adventrous strife,
He dauntless rush'd, too prodigal of life.
Some future bard shall tempt the untry'd themes,
Sing how you dar'd, in fortune's worst extremes;
What cruel wrongs the indignant patriot bore,
What various ills your feeling bosoms tore,
What boding horrors gloom'd the dark'ning hour,
When British Legions arm'd with death-like pow'r,
Bade desolation mark their crimson'd way,
And lur'd the savage to his destin'd prey;
When fierce Germania her barbarians pour'd,
And rapine's sons with wasting fire and sword,
Spread death around—where'er your eyes ye turn'd,
Fled were the peasants—and the village burn'd—
How did your hearts for others suff'rings melt?
What tort'ring pangs your bleeding country felt?
What! when you fled before superior force,
Each succour lost, and perish'd each resource;
[Page 10]When nought was seen around, but prospects drear,
Th' insulting foe hung dreadful on your rear;
And boastful ween'd that day to close the scene,
And quench your name, as tho' it ne'er had been.
Why Britain! rag'd thine insolence and scorn?
Why burst thy vengeance on the wretch forlorn?
The cheerless
captive to slow death consign'd,
Chill'd with keen frost, in prison glooms confin'd;
Of hope bereft, by thy vile minions curs'd,
With hunger famish'd, and consum'd with thirst,
Without one friend,—when death's last horror stung.
Roll'd the wild eye, and gnaw'd the anguish'd tongue!
Why Britain! in thine arrogance and pride,
Didst thou Heav'ns violated laws deride,
Mock human mis'ry with contemptuous sneers,
And fill thy cup of guilt with orphan's tears!
The widows wailing, and the wretch's groan,
Rise in remembrance to th'eternal throne,
While the red flame, thro' the broad concave driv'n,
Calls down the vengeance of the insulted Heav'n.
And didst thou think! by cruelty refin'd,
To damp the ardor of the heav'n-born mind,
With haughty threats, to force the daring train,
To bow unnerv'd in slav'ry's galling chain;
Make countless freemen—then no longer free—
Shrink at thy frown, and bend the prostrate knee,
And couldst thou dream! then wake, dissolve thy charms.
Rous'd by their wrongs, see desp'rate hosts in arms▪
No fear dismays, nor danger's voice appalls,
While kindred blood for sacred vengeance calls;
Their swords shall triumph o'er thy vaunted force.
And curb the Conq'ror in his headlong course.
What spoils of war thy sons, Columbia! claim'd,
What trophies rose! where thy red ensigns flam'd,
Where the great Chief, o'er Del'ware's icy wave,
Led the small band, in danger doubly brave,
On high designs—and e'er the dawning hour,
Germania's vet'rans own'd the victor's pow'r—
[Page 11]Or on fait Princeton's plain—where round thy tomb,
Oh gallant Mercer! deathless laurels bloom.—
Or where anon, in northern fields renown'd,
The tide of slaughter stain'd the sanguine ground;
When the bold freemen gath'ring from afar
Foil'd the proud foe, and crush'd the savage war.
Nor less illustrious were those glorious names,
Whose later deeds, the astonish'd foe proclaims,
Who scal'd the bulwarks, 'midst the flying balls,
And pluck'd the standards from the vanquish'd walls▪
Yet now ye Heroes! see what choice remains,
Ignoble bondage, and inglorious chains,
Or all the joys which liberty can give,
For which you dare to die, or wish to live.
On your own arms, your country's fate depends—
Your wives, your children, parents, brothers, friends,
With all the tender charities of life,
Hang on the issue of the arduous strife.
To bolder deeds, and vict'ry's fierce delights,
Your Country calls, and Heav'n itself invites.
Charm'd by their potent voice—let virtue's flame
The sense of honor, and the fear of shame,
The thirst of praise, and freedom's envied cause,
The smiles of heroes, and the world's applause,
Impel each breast, in glory's dread career,
Firm as your rock-rais'd hills to persevere.
Now the fourth year of
Independence smiles,
The glorious meed of all our war-like toils;
Auspicious pow'r! with thy broad flag unfurl'd,
Shed thy stern influence o'er the western world!
With thy congenial flame, our hearts inspire,
With manly patience, and heroic fire;
The rudest shock of fortune's storm to bear,
Each ill to suffer, ev'ry death to dare;
To rush undaunted in th' adventrous van,
And meet the Britons, man oppos'd to man;
With surer aim, repel their barb'rous rage,
Shield the poor orphan, and the white-hair'd sage:
[Page 12]Defend the matron, and the virgin's charms,
And vindicate our sacred rights with arms.
This, the great
Genius of our land requires,
This, the blest shades of our illustrious sires;
This, the brave sons of future years demand,
Cheer the faint heart, and nerve the feeble hand;
This, sacred hope, that points beyond the span
Which bounds thus transitory life of man,
Where glory lures us, with her bright renown,
The hero's triumph, and the patriot's crown,
The fair rewards to suff'ring virtue given,
Pure robes of bliss, and starry thrones in Heaven.
Chang'd are the scenes—now fairer prospects rise,
And brighter suns begin to gild our skies.—
Th' exhausted foe—his last poor efforts tryed,
Sees nought remain, save impotence and pride;—
His golden dreams of fancied conquests o'er,
And Gallia thund'ring round his native shore,
Reluctant turns—and deep involv'd in woes,
In other climes, prepares for other foes.—
Anon, the horrid sounds of war shall cease,
And all the western world be hush'd in peace:
The martial clarion, shall be heard no more,
Or the loud cannon's desolating roar:
No more our heroes pour the purple flood,
No corse be seen, with garments roll'd in blood,
No shiv'ring wretch, shall roam without a shed,
No pining orphans raise their cry for bread;
No tender mother shriek, at dreams of woe,
Start from her sleep, and see the midnight foe.
The lovely virgin, and the hoary sire,
No more behold the village flame aspire,
While the base spoiler, from a father's arms
Plucks the fair flow'r, and riots on its charms.
Ev'n now from half the threaten'd horrors freed,
See from our shores the less'ning sails recede;
See the red flags that to the winds udfurl'd,
Wav'd in proud triumph round the vanquish'd world,
[Page 13]Inglorious fly:—and see their hagard crew
Despair, rage, shame and infamy pursue.
Hail heav'n born peace! thy grateful blessings pour
On this glad land, and round the peopled shore;
Thine are the joys that gild the happy scene,
Propitious days, and festive nights serene;
With thee gay pleasure frolic's o'er the plain,
And smiling plenty leads thy prosp'rous train.
Then oh my friends! the task of glory done,
Th' immortal prize by your bold efforts won:
Your country's saviours, by her voice confess'd,
While unborn ages rise, and call you blest:
Then let us go, where happier climes invite,
To midland seas, and regions of delight;
With all that's ours, together let us rise,
Seek brighter plains, and more indulgent skies;
Where fair Ohio, rolls his amber tide,
And nature blossoms in her virgin pride;
Where all that beauty's hand can form to please
Shall crown the toils of war, with rural ease.
The shady coverts and the sunny hills,
The gentle lapse of ever-murm'ring rills;
The soft repose amid the noon-tide bow'rs,
The ev'ning walk along the blushing flow'rs,
The fragrant groves, that yield a sweet perfume,
And vernal glories in perpetual bloom,
Await you there.—And Heav'n shall bless the toil,
Your own the produce, as your own the soil.
No tyrant lord shall grasp a thousand farms,
Curse the mild clime, and spoil its fairest charms,
No blasts severe your rip'ning fields deform,
No vollied hail-stones, and no driving storm,
No raging murrain on your cattle seize,
And nature sicken with the dire disease.—
But golden years, anew, begin their reigns,
And cloudless sun-shine gild salubrious plains;
Herbs, fruits & flow'rs, shall clothe th' uncultur'd field;
Nectarious juice, the vine and orchard yield;
[Page 14]Rich dulcet creams the copious goblets fill,
Delicious honey from the trees distill,
The garden smile, spontaneous harvests spring,
The woodlands warble, and the vallies sing.
Along the meads, or near the shady groves,
There sport the flocks, there feed the fat'ning droves▪
There strays the steed, thro' bloomy vales afar,
Who erst mov'd lofty in the ranks of war.
There free from envy, cank'ring care and strife,
Flow the calm pleasures of domestic life;
There mutual friendship sooths each placid breast,
Blest in themselves, and in each other blest:
From house to house, the social glee extends,
For friends in war, in peace are doubly friends:
Their children taught to emulate their sires,
Catch the warm glow, and feel the kindred fires;
'Till by degrees, the migling joys improve,
Grow with their years, and ripen into love:
Nor long the blushing pair in secret sigh,
And drink sweet poison from the love-sick eye.
Blest be their lot! when in his eager arms,
Th' enamour'd youth, folds the fair virgins charms,
On her ripe lip imprints the burning kiss,
And seals with hallow'd rights the nuptial bliss.
Then festal sports, the ev'ning hours prolong;
The mazy dance, and the sweet-warbling song:
Then each endearment wakes the ravish'd sense
To pure delights, and raptures most intense:
And the pleas'd parent tells his list'ning son,
What wond'rous deeds by him, in youth, were done.
No sights of woe, no tort'ring fears annoy
The sweet sensations of the heart-felt joy▪
Nor shall the savages of murd'rous soul,
In painted bands, dark to the combat roll,
With midnight orgies, by the gloomy shade,
On the pale wictim point the seeking blade;
Or cause the hamlet, lull'd in deep repose,
No more to wake, or wake to ceaseless woes:
[Page 15]For your strong arm the guarded land secures,
And freedom, glory, happine
[...] are yours.—
So shal
[...] you flourish in
[...] prime,
Each age
[...]ining thro' the reign of time;
A nobler
[...] crown the
[...] embrace,
A band of heroes, and a patriot race
Not by soft luxury's too dainty
[...]
Their minds contaminated with their
[...]lood;
But like the
[...] our great forefathers
[...]red,
By freedom
[...]rtur'd, and by temp'rance
[...]ed;
Healthful and strong, they turn'd the virg
[...] soil,
Th' unta
[...]'d forest bow'd beneath their
[...]il:
At early dawn, they sought the mountain chace
Or
[...] the Indian, from his lurking place;
Curb'd the mad fury, of those barb'rous men,
Or dragg'd the
wild beast struggling from his den:
To all the vigour of that pristine race,
New charms are added, and superior grace.
Then cities rise—and spiry towns increase,
With gilded domes, and every art of peace.
Then cultivation, shall extend his pow'r,
Rear the green blade and nurse the tender flow'r,
Make the fair villa, in full splendors smile,
And robe with verdure all the genial soil.
Then shall rich commerce, court the fav'ring gales,
And wond'ring wilds admire the passing sails.
Where the bold ships, the stormy Huron brave,
Where wild Ontario rolls the whitening wave,
Where fair Ohio, his pure current pours,
And Missisippi laves the extended shores.
Then oh blest land! with genius unconfin'd,
With polish'd manners, and the illumin'd mind,
Thy future race, on daring wing shall soar,
Each science trace, and all the arts explore;
'Till bright religion, beck'ning from the skies,
Shall bid thy sons to endless glories rise.
As round thy clime, celestial joy extends,
Thy beauties ripen, and thy pomp ascends,
[Page 16]Farther and farther
[...], thy blessings roll,
To southern Ocean and the northern Pole
Where now the
[...], or tangled thicket grows,
The wilderness all blossom as the rose
Unbounded
[...], unknown charms
[...]ssume,
Like Salem
[...], and like Eden
[...].
And oh
[...] all our toils are past,
Crown
[...] such happiness, our
[...] at last:
So rise
[...] sons, like our great sires of old,
In
[...] cause, unconquerably
[...];
With
[...] faith, and morals pure, their name
Spread thro' the world, and gain immortal
[...].—
And thou Supreme! whose hand sustains th
[...]
[...]
Before whose nod, the nations rise and fall,
P
[...]opitious smile, and shed diviner charms,
On this blest
land, the queen of arts and arms:
Make the great Empire rise on wisdom's plan,
The seat of bliss, and last retreat of Man.