Pennsylvania

While ruthless WAR strides o'er th' ensanguin'd Plain, And lawless Rapine, Slavery, Death and Bonds, Her direful Train, stalk horrible around; While Home-bred Faction rends the sinking State, And Discord, Hell-born Fiend, triumphant reigns; O let the peaceful MUSE, whose tender Years Ill brook this savage, rude, tumultuous Scene, Retire awhile, and seek with anxious Eye If haply she may find a calm Retreat, Where in the Covert of some bowery Grove Peace dwells with Shade and Silence, Sisters mild! There vent her inward Grief in plaintive Strains And tell the listening Gloom her Country's Wo

LED by my roving Thoughts full oft I stray With measur'd Step along thy pebbled Shore, O Delaware! whose silver-winding Wave, Majestic rolling thro' a Length of Soil, Visits the secret Haunts and deep Abodes Of many a King and Queen of various Hue, Whose artless Shoulders unadorn'd and plain Groan not beneath the Load of regal State! There lonely wandering on, I pensive court Thy murm'ring Tide to sooth my Heart-felt Pain; How sweet is Solitude, the secret Walk, The gloomy, deepening Shade, and silent Hour, To Him, whose Soul unruffled and serene Can view with social Pity and Concern The Feuds and Factions of a jarring World!

ONE Evening mild, as at my wonted Hour I walk'd the Margin of my native Stream, Musing of Good and Just, the sacred Themes That thro' the Day, devolv'd from STREPHON'S Tongue, Had charm'd my listening Ear—I chanc'd to stray Where KENSINGTON her growing Honours spreads, And views her Features in the chrystal Wave; Strait with a Flood of Glory compass'd round A Form celestial struck my dazled Sense; In her majestic Mien, her Looks divine, And graceful rich Attire, the Goddess shone; And PENNSYLVANIA'S Genius stood confest. But tho' surrounded with th' effulgent Blaze, Her down-cast Eye and Tresses discompos'd Some inward Discontent and Anguish spoke. Torn from her Brow the peaceful Olive lay All wither'd and neglected at her Feet. Her Right Hand grasp'd the dreaded Spear of MARS, And on her Left MINERVA'S Aegis hung. Pensive and sad she fix'd her Eyes on thee, Fair PHILADELPHIA! Offspring of her Toil; And thus, with many a mingled Heart-fetch'd Sigh, In Accent mild, she spoke, or seem'd to speak:

AND is it thus my Cares are recompens'd? Is this the Issue of my anxious Toils?— To see this fertile Soil, this sacred Spot, My fair Inheritance, the calm Abode Of Peace and Virtue, Liberty and Law, Laid waste and ravag'd by a cruel Foe! To see my bleeding Sons, like blasted Plants, Falling beneath the Ruffian Murderer's Hand!— And not one Arm uplifted to assert The pious Cause, avenge their guiltless Blood, And hurl Destruction on an impious Race!— Was it for this I left my native Soil, Thee, great BRITANNIA! Mistress of the Main! And sought these distant Shores then far remote From the sweet Influence of thy temper'd Rule; To spread thy Sway, and give this fruitful Land A fair Accession to thy wide Domain? Was it for this I plann'd the Scheme of State, A Constitution just, impartial, free; And gave my Sons to know the ruling Art, To ballance fair the Legislative Pow'rs, And teach the Free-born Subject Freedom's Laws? Was it for this I bade the teeming Earth Pour from its Bosom the luxuriant Crop, To crown with smiling Plenty, Wealth and Ease, The vig'rous Labours of my hardy Swains? Was it for this I bade each useful Art, Each Heav'n-born Science spread their Blessings round, And taught my rising Sons bright Wisdom's Lore? For this I toil'd with all a Mother's Care, And rais'd by Patriot-Deeds my Infant State?— To see at last the proud Usurper's Arm Outstretch'd, in Act to seize by brutal Force, And Rapine base my just and righteous Claim; Myself, despairing yet of brighter Days, Constrain'd to drink the bitter Cup of Woe!— Great my Misfortunes now, as erst my Bliss!—

AVENGING Justice! whither art thou fled! That thus the lawless Sons of Rapine act In base Defiance of thy Sovereign Pow'r! Oh come! and arm'd with thy vindictive Sword Pour ample Ruin on their guilty Heads! For their heap'd Crimes the Retribution just.

AH! what a Train of complicated Woes In black Succession pass before my View, Whene'er I turn my Eyes to yonder Plains? Where in soft Murmurs thro' the verdant Soil MONONGAHELA rolls his gentle Tide. There doom'd to perish in a glorious Cause Full many a gallant Youth and Veteran bold, BRITANNIA'S hardy Sons, with BRADDOCK lie, The hapless Partners of a Lot severe! Great Chiefs, in Arms renown'd, in Suffering brave!

FLUSH'D with the Daring of their bold Emprize, And fir'd with Thirst of Blood, and sordid Gain, The Sons of FRANCE, in Council dark conven'd Sternly resolve their Conquest to pursue. And now send forth their gloomy painted Tribes, Those human Monsters of the Desart wild!— A dismal Prelude to their black Designs!

AND shall my Sons, a numerous Race robust, With ill-tim'd, base Forbearance tamely brook This savage Treatment from a treacherous Foe?— And have you then forgot your high Descent, The peerless Fame of your illustrious Line Renown'd of old, from great BRITANNIA sprung?— For sure I am, the Queen of Nations bore Me, your presiding Genius, and uprear'd Her PENNSYLVANIA with a Mother's Care; Fair as the fairest of her beauteous Race, And bless'd with equal Honour, Wealth and Strength. And will you then my Sons, my much-lov'd Race! For whom I toil'd so many a rolling Year, At last degenerate from your pristine Worth, And level all a Mother's tow'ring Hopes? Why is the ruthless Sword of Vengeance sheath'd? Why careless sleeps the British Lion bold, Nor threats Destruction with his lifted Paw? Ah say, what means this Lethargy supine, Whose baleful Influence lulls th' inactive Land?— Is there no daring, martial Spirit here? No dauntless Breast to rouze my slumbering Sons, And guide their Strength combin'd against the Foe?— O for some bold intrepid Son of MARS, A God-like MARLBOROUGH, or a brave EUGENE! To train my docile Race to Arms and War, And lead them forth to Deeds of martial Fame. Then should I see the haughty Gallic Troops, With their confederate Indians black and fierce All routed fly before my conquering Sword. Then should I see well-pleas'd the British Flag Triumphant rear'd on fair OHIO'S Banks, And proud DU QUESNE laid level with the Dust.

NOR blame, my Sons, these earnest Words sincere, Nor call my Zeal ill-tim'd or idly warm!— Ah should the base, insulting Foe presume O'er yonder Hills to march their hostile Bands, Lay waste the Labours of th' industrious Swain, And whelm the Country in a general Blaze; Tear from the bleeding Mother's fondling Arms The wailing Babe, and in its guiltless Breast With Hand inhuman plunge the reeking Blade; Then, urg'd with Hope of Gain, in dread Array Bear all their Terrors to your trembling Gates;— Or should the gloomy War-Ship, arm'd and mann'd, Full on your Front her thundering Cannon play, And ceaseless hurl the fierce, destructive Bomb, To raze my PHILADELPHIA'S towery Pride; Ah then too late you may at last lament Your blasted Laurels and your faded Fame; Too late repent you of your long Neglect, Your tame Forbearance, and ungenerous Ease; And deem my Counsels wise, and just my Zeal, Too late alas! when all is sunk and lost! Then rouze at once, nor let th' impending Storm That gathers fast, and frowns with boding Brow, Burst unresisted on this prostrate Land.

YET ere I close—one racking Thought disturbs My anxious Bosom, and alarms me more Than all the Terrors of a foreign War. Still shall the Gallic Tyrant uncontroul'd Spread wide his Conquests thro' my fair Domain, And still persist in Violation base Of perfect Rights, and Treaties sacred held; While restless Party-Rage divides your Strength, And Feuds intestine rend your infant State. Where shall I find some generous healing Hand Of dextrous Skill, and honest, friendly Views, By calm, impartial Reason, and the Tongue Of soft Perswasion, to close up the Breach That Discord makes between my jarring Sons? What means, ah say, what means this Phrenzy dire That spreads and burns in every rankled Breast? Rouze, rouze, my Sons, nor weigh in equal Scale With Matters of high Import and Concern Those of inferior Worth;—but know betimes, And dearly prize, th' unconquerable Force Of Arms united, and of Strength combin'd.

THEN boldly march, assur'd of high Success, And bid your Troops undaunted take the Field. To guide your Infantry, with Conduct wise In this brave Daring be ALPHONZO'S Care; While fir'd with Thirst of Fame, and great Exploit My bold CHAMONT commands the flying Horse. In all your Acts myself will still preside, Unite your Counsels, and direct your Arms.

BUT I must hence.—For lo! e'en now conven'd Your thoughtful Senate calls my active Aid. Thither I fly to warm the Patriot-Breast With British Ardor in fair Freedom's Cause; To wake each manly Purpose in the Soul, And every generous Aim for public Weal. That so my growing, well-supported State, Spite of th' opposing Foe, may spread and rise. And spread and rise it shall, while MORRIS rules Humane and just, and thro' the Country round Sheds the mild Influence of a gentle Sway.

THUS spoke the ruling Genius of our Land, Then sudden vanish'd from my wond'ring Gaze. And now bright-issuing from her Eastern Dome, In Silver Car the peerless Queen of Night Triumphant rode thro' Heaven's illumin'd Vault. Homeward I sped, and bade the Muse record This awful Vision in her artless Strain.