Better these northern realms deserve our song, Discover'd by Britannia for her sons; Undeluged with seas of Indian blood, Which cruel Spain on southern regions spilt; To gain by terrors what the gen'rous breast Wins by fair treaty, conquers without blood.

EUGENIO

High in renown th' intrepid hero stands, From Europe's sh.o.r.es advent'ring first to try New seas, new oceans, unexplor'd by man.

Fam'd Cabot too may claim our n.o.blest song, Who from th' Atlantic surge decry'd these sh.o.r.es, As on he coasted from the Mexic bay To Acady and piny Labradore.

Nor less than him the muse would celebrate Bold Hudson stemming to the pole, thro' seas Vex'd with continual storms, thro' the cold straits, Where Europe and America oppose Their sh.o.r.es contiguous, and the northern sea Confin'd, indignant, swells and roars between.

With these be number'd in the list of fame Ill.u.s.trious Raleigh, hapless in his fate: Forgive me, Raleigh, if an infant muse Borrows thy name to grace her humble strain; By many n.o.bler are thy virtues sung; Envy no more shall throw them in the shade; They pour new l.u.s.tre on Britannia's isle.

Thou too, advent'rous on th' Atlantic main, Burst thro' its storms and fair Virginia hail'd, The simple natives saw thy canvas flow, And gaz'd aloof upon the shady sh.o.r.e: For in her woods America contain'd, From times remote, a savage race of men.

How shall we know their origin, how tell, From whence or where the Indian tribes arose?

ACASTO

And long has this defy'd the sages skill T'investigate: Tradition seems to hide The mighty secret from each mortal eye, How first these various nations South and North Possest these sh.o.r.es, or from what countries came; Whether they sprang from some premoeval head In their own lands, like Adam in the East; Yet this the sacred oracles deny, And reason too reclaims against the thought.

For when the gen'ral deluge drown'd the world, Where could their tribes have found security?

Where find their fate but in the ghastly deep?

Unless, as others dream, some chosen few High on the Andes 'scap'd the gen'ral death, High on the Andes, wrapt in endless snow, Where winter in his wildest fury reigns.

But here Philosophers oppose the scheme, The earth, say they, nor hills nor mountains knew E'er yet the universal flood prevail'd: But when the mighty waters rose aloft, Rous'd by the winds, they shook their solid case And in convulsions tore the drowned world!

'Till by the winds a.s.suag'd they quickly fell And all their ragged bed exposed to view.

Perhaps far wand'ring towards the northern pole, The straits of Zembla and the Frozen Zone, And where the eastern Greenland almost joins America's north point, the hardy tribes Of banish'd Jews, Siberians, Tartars wild Came over icy mountains, or on floats First reach'd these coasts hid from the world beside.

And yet another argument more strange Reserv'd for men of deeper thought and late Presents Itself to view: In Peleg's days, So says the Hebrew seer's inspired pen, This mighty ma.s.s of earth, this solid globe Was cleft in twain--cleft east and west apart While strait between the deep Atlantic roll'd.

And traces indisputable remain Of this unhappy land now sunk and lost; The islands rising in the eastern main Are but small fragments of this continent, Whose two extremities were Newfoundland And St. Helena.--One far in the north Where British seamen now with strange surprise Behold the pole star glitt'ring o'er their heads; The other in the southern tropic rears Its head above the waves; Bermudas and Canary isles, Britannia and th' Azores, With fam'd Hibernia are but broken parts Of some prodigious waste which once sustain'd Armies by lands, where now but ships can range.

LEANDER

Your sophistry, Acasto, makes me smile; The roving mind of man delights to dwell On hidden things, merely because they're hid; He thinks his knowledge ne'er can reach too high And boldly pierces nature's inmost haunts But for uncertainties; your broken isles, Your northern Tartars, and your wand'ring Jews, Hear what the voice of history proclaims.

The Carthaginians, e'er the Roman yoke Broke their proud spirits and enslav'd them too, For navigation were reknown'd as much As haughty Tyre with all her hundred fleets; Full many a league their vent'rous seamen sail'd Thro' strait Gibralter down the western sh.o.r.e Of Africa, and to Canary isles By them call'd fortunate, so Flaccus sings, Because eternal spring there crowns the fields, And fruits delicious bloom throughout the year.

From voyaging here this inference I draw, Perhaps some barque with all her num'rous crew Caught by the eastern trade wind hurry'd on Before th' steady blast to Brazil's sh.o.r.e, New Amazonia and the coasts more south.

Here standing and unable to return.

For ever from their native skies estrang'd, Doubtless they made the unknown land their own.

And in the course of many rolling years A num'rous progeny from these arose, And spread throughout the coasts; those whom we call Brazilians, Mexicans, Peruvians rich, Th' tribes of Chili, Patagon and those Who till the sh.o.r.es of Amazon's long stream.

When first the pow'rs of Europe here attain'd, Vast empires, kingdoms, cities, palaces And polish'd nations stock'd the fertile land; Who has not heard of Cusco, Lima and The town of Mexico; huge cities form'd From Europe's architecture, e'er the arms Of haughty Spain disturb'd the peaceful soil.

EUGENIO

Such disquisition leads the puzzled mind From maze to maze by queries still perplex'd.

But this we know, if from the east they came.

Where science first and revelation beam'd, Long since they've lost all memory, all trace Of this their origin: Tradition tells Of some great forefather beyond the lakes Oswego, Huron, Mechigan, Champlaine Or by the stream of Amazon which rolls Thro' many a clime; while others simply dream That from the Andes or the mountains north, Some h.o.a.ry fabled ancestor came down To people this their world.

LEANDER

How fallen, Oh!

How much obscur'd is human nature here!

Shut from the light of science and of truth They wander'd blindfold down the steep of time; Dim superst.i.tion with her ghastly train Of daemons, spectres and foreboding signs Still urging them to horrid rites and forms Of human sacrifice, to sooth the pow'rs Malignant, and the dark infernal king.

Once on this spot perhaps a wigwam stood With all its rude inhabitants, or round Some mighty fire an hundred savage sons Gambol'd by day, and filled the night with cries; In what superior to the brutal race That fled before them thro' the howling wilds, Were all those num'rous tawny tribes which swarm'd From Baffin's bay to Del Fuego south, From California to the Oronoque?

Far from the reach of fame they liv'd unknown In listless slumber and inglorious ease; To them fair science never op'd her stores, Nor sacred truth sublim'd the soul to G.o.d; No fix'd abode their wand'ring genius knew; No golden harvest crown'd the fertile glebe; No city then adorn'd the river's bank, Nor rising turret overlook'd the stream.

ACASTO

Now view the prospect chang'd; far off at sea The mariner descry's our s.p.a.cious towns, He hails the prospect of the land and views A new, a fair, a fertile world arise; Onward from India's isles far east, to us Now fair-ey'd commerce stretches her white sails, Learning exalts her head, the graces smile And peace establish'd after horrid war Improves the splendor of these early times.

But come, my friends, and let us trace the steps By which this recent happy world arose, To this fair eminence of high renown This height of wealth, of liberty and fame.

LEANDER

Speak then, Eugenio, for I've heard you tell The pleasing hist'ry, and the cause that brought The first advent'rers to these happy sh.o.r.es; The glorious cause that urg'd our fathers first To visit climes unknown and wilder woods Than e'er Tartarian or Norwegian saw, And with fair culture to adorn that soil Which never knew th' Industrious swain before.

EUGENIO

All this long story to rehea.r.s.e would tire; Besides, the sun toward the west retreats, Nor can the n.o.blest tale r.e.t.a.r.d his speed, Nor loftiest verse; not that which sung the fall Of Troy divine and smooth Scamander's stream.

Yet hear a part.--By persecution wrong'd And popish cruelty, our fathers came From Europe's sh.o.r.es to find this blest abode, Secure from tyranny and hateful man, And plough'd th' Atlantic wave in quest of peace; And found new sh.o.r.es and sylvan settlements Form'd by the care of each advent'rous chief, Who, warm in liberty and freedom's cause, Sought out uncultivated tracts and wilds, And fram'd new plans of cities, governments And s.p.a.cious provinces: Why should I name Thee, Penn, the Solon of our western lands; Sagacious legislator, whom the world Admires tho' dead: an infant colony, Nurs'd by thy care, now rises o'er the rest Like that tall Pyramid on Memphis' stand O'er all the lesser piles, they also great.

Why should I name those heroes so well known Who peopled all the rest from Canada To Georgia's farthest coasts, West Florida Or Apalachian mountains; yet what streams Of blood were shed! What Indian hosts were slain Before the days of peace were quite restor'd.

LEANDER

Yes, while they overturn'd the soil untill'd, And swept the forests from the shaded plain 'Midst dangers, foes and death, fierce Indian tribes With deadly malice arm'd and black design, Oft murder'd half the hapless colonies.

Encourag'd too by that inglorious race False Gallia's sons, who once their arms display'd At Quebec, Montreal and farthest coasts Of Labrador and Esquimaux where now The British standard awes the coward host.

Here those brave chiefs, who lavish of their blood Fought in Britannia's cause, most n.o.bly fell.

What Heart but mourns the untimely fate of Wolf, Who dying conquer'd, or what breast but beats To share a fate like his, and die like him?

ACASTO

And he demands our lay who bravely fell By Monangahela and the Ohio's stream; By wiles o'ercome the hapless hero fell, His soul too gen'rous for that dastard crew Who kill unseen and shun the face of day.

Ambush'd in wood, and swamp and thick grown hill, The bellowing tribes brought on the savage war.

What could avail, O Braddock, then the flame, The gen'rous flame which fir'd thy martial soul!

What could avail Britannia's warlike troops, Choice spirits of her isle? What could avail America's own sons? The skulking foe, Hid in the forest lay and fought secure, What could the brave Virginians do, o'erpower'd By such vast numbers and their leader dead?

'Midst fire and death they bore him from the field, Where in his blood full many a hero lay.

'Twas there, O Halkut! thou so n.o.bly fell, Thrice valiant Halkut, early son of fame!

We still deplore a face so immature, Fair Albion mourns thy unsuccessful end, And Caledonia sheds a tear for him Who led the bravest of her sons to war.

EUGENIO

But why alas commemorate the dead?

And pa.s.s those glorious heroes by, who yet Breathe the same air and see the light with us?

The dead, Acasto, are but empty names And he who dy'd to day the same to us As he who dy'd a thousand years ago.

A Johnson lives, among the sons of fame Well known, conspicuous as the morning star Among the lesser lights: A patriot skill'd In all the glorious arts of peace or war.

He for Britannia gains the savage race, Unstable as the sea, wild as the winds, Cruel as death, and treacherous as h.e.l.l, Whom none but he by kindness yet could win, None by humanity could gain their souls, Or bring from woods and subteranean dens The skulking crew, before a Johnson rose, Pitying their num'rous tribes: ah how unlike The Cortez' and Acosta's, pride of Spain Whom blood and murder only satisfy'd.

Behold their doleful regions overflow'd With gore, and blacken'd with ten thousand deaths From Mexico to Patagonia far, Where howling winds sweep round the southern cape, And other suns and other stars arise!

ACASTO

Such is the curse, Eugenio, where the soul Humane is wanting, but we boast no feats Of cruelty like Spain's unfeeling sons.

The British Epithet is merciful: And we the sons of Britain learn like them To conquer and to spare; for coward souls Seek their revenge but on a vanquish'd foe.

Gold, fatal gold was the alluring bait To Spain's rapacious mind, hence rose the wars From Chili to the Caribbean sea, O'er Terra-Firma and La Plata wide.

Peru then sunk in ruins, great before With pompous cities, monuments superb Whose tops reach'd heav'n. But we more happy boast No golden metals in our peaceful land, No flaming diamond, precious emerald, Or blushing saphire, ruby, chrysolite Or jasper red; more n.o.ble riches flow From agriculture and th' industrious swain, Who tills the fertile vale or mountain's brow, Content to lead a safe, a humble life 'Midst his own native hills; romantic scenes, Such as the muse of Greece did feign so well.

Envying their lovely bow'rs to mortal race.

LEANDER

Long has the rural life been justly fam'd; And poets old their pleasing pictures drew Of flow'ry meads, and groves and gliding streams.