The earth on its surface has all been survey'd, The sea has been travell'd--and deep in the shade The kingdom of Pluto has heard us at work, When we dig for his metals wherever they lurk.

But who would have thought that invention could rise To find out a method to soar to the skies, And pierce the bright regions, which ages a.s.sign'd To spirits unbodied, and flights of the mind.

Let the G.o.ds of Olympus their revels prepare-- By the aid of some pounds of inflammable air We'll visit them soon--and forsake this dull ball With coat, shoes and stockings, fat carcase and all!

How France is distinguish'd in Louis's reign!

What cannot her genius and courage attain?

Thro'out the wide world have her arms found the way, And art to the stars is extending her sway.

At sea let the British their neighbours defy-- The French shall have frigates to traverse the sky, In this navigation more fortunate prove, And cruise at their ease in the climates above.

If the English should venture to sea with their fleet, A host of balloons in a trice they shall meet.

The French from the zenith their wings shall display, And souse on these sea-dogs and bear them away.

Ye sages, who travel on mighty designs, To measure meridians and parallel lines-- The task being tedious--take heed, if you please-- Construct a balloon--and you'll do it with ease.

And ye who the heav'n's broad concave survey, And, aided by gla.s.ses, its secrets betray, Who gaze, the night through, at the wonderful scene, Yet still are complaining of vapours between, Ah, seize the conveyance and fearlesly rise To peep at the lanthorns that light up the skies, And floating above, on our ocean of air, Inform us, by letter, what people are there.

In Saturn, advise us if snow ever melts, And what are the uses of Jupiter's belts; (Mars being willing) pray send us word, greeting, If his people are fonder of fighting than eating.

That Venus has horns we've no reason to doubt, (I forget what they call him who first found it out) And you'll find, I'm afraid, if you venture too near, That the spirits of cuckolds inhabit her sphere.

Our folks of good morals it wofully grieves, That Mercury's people are villains and thieves, You'll see how it is--but I'll venture to shew For a dozen among them, twelve dozens below.

From long observation one proof may be had That the men in the moon are incurably mad; However, compare us, and if they exceed They must be surprizingly crazy indeed.

But now, to have done with our planets and moons-- Come, grant me a patent for making balloons-- For I find that the time is approaching--the day When horses shall fail, and the hors.e.m.e.n decay.

Post riders, at present (call'd Centaurs of old) Who brave all the seasons, hot weather and cold, In future shall leave their dull poneys behind And travel, like ghosts, on the wings of the wind.

The stagemen, whose gallopers scarce have the power Through the dirt to convey you ten miles in an hour, When advanc'd to balloons shall so furiously drive You'll hardly know whether you're dead or alive.

The man who at Boston sets out with the sun, If the wind should be fair, may be with us at one, At Gunpowder Ferry drink whiskey at three And at six be at Edentown, ready for tea.

(The machine shall be order'd, we hardly need say, To travel in darkness as well as by day) At Charleston by ten he for sleep shall prepare, And by twelve the next day be the devil knows where[292].

When the ladies grow sick of the city in June, What a jaunt they shall have in the flying balloon!

Whole mornings shall see them at toilets preparing, And forty miles high be their afternoon's airing.

Yet more with its fitness for commerce I'm struck; What loads of tobacco shall fly from Kentuck, What packs of best beaver--bar-iron and pig, What budgets of leather from Conocoheague!

If Britain should ever disturb us again, (As they threaten to do in the next George's reign) No doubt they will play us a set of new tunes, And pepper us well from their fighting balloons.

To market the farmers shall shortly repair With their hogs and potatoes, wholesale, thro' the air, Skim over the water as light as a feather, Themselves and their turkies conversing together.

Such wonders as these from balloons shall arise-- And the giants of old, that a.s.saulted the skies With their Ossa on Pelion, shall freely confess That all they attempted was nothing to this.

[291] _Freeman's Journal_, December 22, 1784. The year 1782, in which Cavallo made his memorable experiments, may be taken as the initial date in the history of aerial navigation. In October, 1753, Rozier ventured upon the first balloon ascension, though he ventured only fifty feet from the ground. On November 21st of the same year, with the Marquis d'Arlandes, he made the first aerial expedition, ascending from the castle la Muette in the presence of a vast mult.i.tude and remaining in the air twenty-five minutes. Text follows the edition of 1786 which bears the date "1785."

[292] Freneau's wild dream has been realized, but not in the way which he indicated.

ON THE EMIGRATION TO AMERICA[293]

And Peopling the Western Country

To western woods, and lonely plains, Palemon from the crowd departs, Where Nature's wildest genius reigns, To tame the soil, and plant the arts-- What wonders there shall freedom show, What mighty states successive grow!

From Europe's proud, despotic sh.o.r.es. .h.i.ther the stranger takes his way, And in our new found world explores A happier soil, a milder sway, Where no proud despot holds him down, No slaves insult him with a crown.

What charming scenes attract the eye, On wild Ohio's savage stream!

There Nature reigns, whose works outvie The boldest pattern art can frame; There ages past have rolled away, And forests bloomed but to decay.

From these fair plains, these rural seats, So long concealed, so lately known, The unsocial Indian far retreats, To make some other clime his own, When other streams, less pleasing, flow, And darker forests round him grow.

Great Sire[A] of floods! whose varied wave Through climes and countries takes its way, To whom creating Nature gave Ten thousand streams to swell thy sway!

No longer shall they useless prove, Nor idly through the forests rove;

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

Nor longer shall your princely flood From distant lakes be swelled in vain, Nor longer through a darksome wood Advance, unnoticed, to the main, Far other ends, the heavens decree-- And commerce plans new freights for thee.

While virtue warms the generous breast, There heaven-born freedom shall reside, Nor shall the voice of war molest, Nor Europe's all-aspiring pride-- There Reason shall new laws devise, And order from confusion rise.

Forsaking kings and regal state, With all their pomp and fancied bliss,[294]

The traveller owns, convinced though late, No realm so free, so blest as this-- The east is half to slaves consigned, Where kings and priests enchain the mind.[295]

O come the time, and haste the day, When man shall man no longer crush, When Reason shall enforce her sway, Nor these fair regions raise our blush, Where still the African complains, And mourns his yet unbroken chains.

Far brighter scenes a future age, The muse predicts, these States will hail, Whose genius may the world engage, Whose deeds may over death prevail, And happier systems bring to view, Than all the eastern sages knew. [1784.]

[293] First published in Bailey's _Pocket Almanac_ for 1785, and reprinted almost without change in the later editions of Freneau. Text from the edition of 1809.

[294] (A debt that reason deems amiss).--_Ed. 1786._

[295] And half to slavery more refin'd.--_Ib._

THE SEASONS MORALIZED[296]

They who to warmer regions run, May bless the favour of the sun, But seek in vain what charms us here, Life's picture, varying with the year.

Spring, and her wanton train advance Like Youth to lead the festive dance, All, all her scenes are mirth and play, And blushing blossoms own her sway.

The Summer next (those blossoms blown) Brings on the fruits that spring had sown, Thus men advance, impelled by time, And Nature triumphs in her prime.

Then Autumn crowns the beauteous year, The groves a sicklier aspect wear; And mournful she (the lot of all) Matures her fruits, to make them fall.

Clad in the vestments of a tomb, Old age is only Winter's gloom-- Winter, alas! shall spring restore, But youth returns to man no more.

[296] First published in Bailey's _Pocket Almanac_ for 1785. The edition of 1809 is used.

ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL LAURENS[297]

Since on her plains this generous chief expired, Whom sages honoured, and whom France admired;[298]

Does Fame no statues to his memory raise, Nor swells one column to record his praise Where her palmetto shades the adjacent deeps, Affection sighs, and Carolina weeps!

Thou, who shalt stray where death this chief confines, Revere the patriot, subject of these lines: Not from the dust the muse transcribes his name, And more than marble shall declare his fame Where scenes more glorious his great soul engage, Confest thrice worthy in that closing page When conquering Time to dark oblivion calls, The marble totters, and the column falls.