3

He comes!--the Genius of these lands-- Fame's thousand tongues his worth confess, Who conquer'd with his suffering bands, And grew immortal by distress: Thus calms succeed the stormy blast, And valour is repaid at last.

4

O Washington!--thrice glorious name, What due rewards can man decree-- Empires are far below thy aim, And sceptres have no charms for thee; Virtue alone has thy regard, And she must be thy great reward.

5

Encircled by extorted power, Monarchs must envy thy Retreat, Who cast, in some ill fated hour, Their country's freedom at their feet; 'Twas thine to act a n.o.bler part For injur'd Freedom had thy heart.

6

For ravag'd realms and conquer'd seas Rome gave the great imperial prize, And, swell'd with pride, for feats like these, Transferr'd her heroes to the skies:-- A brighter scene your deeds display, You gain those heights a different way.

7

When Faction rear'd her snaky head,[250]

And join'd with tyrants to destroy, Where'er you march'd the monster fled, Tim'rous her arrows to employ; Hosts catch'd from you a bolder flame, And despots trembled at your name.

8

Ere war's dread horrors ceas'd to reign, What leader could your place supply?-- Chiefs crowded to the embattled plain, Prepar'd to conquer or to die-- Heroes arose--but none like you Could save our lives and freedom too.

9

In swelling verse let kings be read, And princes shine in polish'd prose; Without such aid your triumphs spread Where'er the convex ocean flows, To Indian worlds by seas embrac'd, And Tartar, tyrant of the waste.

10

Throughout the east you gain applause, And soon the Old World, taught by you, Shall blush to own her barbarous laws, Shall learn instruction from the New: Monarchs shall hear the humble plea, Nor urge too far the proud decree.

11

Despising pomp and vain parade, At home you stay, while France and Spain The secret, ardent wish convey'd, And hail'd you to their sh.o.r.es in vain: In Vernon's groves you shun the throne, Admir'd by kings, but seen by none.

12

Your fame, thus spread to distant lands, May envy's fiercest blasts endure, Like Egypt's pyramids it stands, Built on a basis more secure; Time's latest age shall own in you The patriot and the statesman too.

13

Now hurrying from the busy scene, Where thy Potowmack's waters flow, May'st thou enjoy thy rural reign, And every earthly blessing know; Thus He[A] whom Rome's proud legions sway'd, Return'd, and sought his sylvan shade.

[A] Cincinnatus.--_Freneau's note._

14

Not less in wisdom than in war Freedom shall still employ your mind, Slavery shall vanish, wide and far, 'Till not a trace is left behind; Your counsels not bestow'd in vain Shall still protect this infant reign.

15

So when the bright, all-cheering sun From our contracted view retires, Though fools may think his race is run, On other worlds he lights his fires: Cold climes beneath his influence glow, And frozen rivers learn to flow.

16

O say, thou great, exalted name!

What Muse can boast of equal lays, Thy worth disdains all vulgar fame, Transcends the n.o.blest poet's praise, Art soars, unequal to the flight, And genius sickens at the height.

17

For states redeem'd--our western reign Restor'd by thee to milder sway, Thy conscious glory shall remain When this great globe is swept away, And all is lost that pride admires, And all the pageant scene expires.

[249] Published in the _Freeman's Journal_, December 10, 1783.

Washington arrived in Philadelphia from New York, December 8th. The earliest version of this poem remained practically unchanged in the later editions. The text follows the edition of 1786.

[250] "Bristly head."--_Ed. 1809._

RIVINGTON'S CONFESSIONS[251]

Addressed to the Whigs of New-York

_December 31, 1783_

PART I

Long life and low spirits were never my choice, As long as I live I intend to rejoice; When life is worn out, and no wine's to be had 'Tis time enough then to be serious and sad.

'Tis time enough then to reflect and repent When our liquor is gone, and our money is spent, But I cannot endure what is practis'd by some This antic.i.p.ating of evils to come:

A debt must be paid, I am sorry to say, Alike, in their turns, by the grave and the gay, And due to a despot that none can deceive Who grants us no respite and signs no reprieve.

Thrice happy is he that from care can retreat, And its plagues and vexations put under his feet; Blow the storm as it may, he is always in trim, And the sun's in the zenith forever to him.

Since the world then in earnest is nothing but care, (And the world will allow I have also my share) Yet, toss'd as I am in the stormy expanse, The best way, I find, is to leave it to chance.

Look round, if you please, and survey the wide ball And chance, you will find, has direction of all: 'Twas owing to chance that I first saw the light, And chance may destroy me before it is night!

'Twas a chance, a mere chance, that your arms gain'd the day, 'Twas a chance that the Britons so soon went away, To chance by their leaders the nation is cast And chance to perdition will send them at last.

Now because I remain when the puppies are gone You would willingly see me hang'd, quarter'd and drawn, Though I think I have logic sufficient to prove That the chance of my stay--is a proof of my love.

For deeds of destruction some hundreds are ripe, But the worst of my foes are your lads of the type: Because they have nothing to put on their shelves They are striving to make me as poor as themselves.