Pewter-Platter Alley[300]

In Philadelphia

(As it appeared in January, 1784)

From Christ-Church graves, across the way, A dismal, horrid place is found, Where rushing winds exert their sway, And Greenland winter chills the ground: No blossoms there are seen to bloom, No sun pervades the dreary gloom!

The people of that gloomy place In penance for some ancient crime Are held in a too narrow space, Like those beyond the bounds of time, Who darkened still, perceive no day, While seasons waste, and moons decay.

Cold as the shade that wraps them round, This icy region prompts our fear; And he who treads this frozen ground Shall curse the chance that brought him here-- The slippery mass predicts his fate, A broken arm, a wounded pate.

When August sheds his sultry beam, May Celia never find this place, Nor see, upon the clouded stream, The fading summer in her face; And may she ne'er discover there The grey that mingles with her hair.

The watchman sad, whose drowsy call Proclaims the hour forever fled, Avoids this path to Pluto's hall; For who would wish to wake the dead!-- Still let them sleep--it is no crime-- They pay no tax to know the time.

No coaches here, in glittering pride, Convey their freight to take the air, No gods nor heroes here reside, Nor powdered beau, nor lady fair-- All, all to warmer regions flee, And leave the glooms to Towne[A] and me.

[A] BENJAMIN TOWNE, then Printer of the EVENING POST.--Freneau's note.

Freeman's Journal, February 23, 1795.

ON THE DEATH OF THE REPUBLICAN PATRIOT AND STATESMAN, GENERAL JOSEPH REED[A]

[A] First published in the Freeman's Journal, March 9, 1785, with the following introduction:

"On Saturday morning last [March 5] departed this life in the forty-third year of his age, GENERAL JOSEPH REED, Esq., formerly President of this State; and on Sunday his remains were interred in the Presbyterian burying ground in Arch Street. His funeral was attended by his excellency the President and the Superior Executive Council, the Honourable the Speaker and the General Assembly, the Militia Officers and a greater number of citizens than we've ever seen here on any similar occasion." Text follows the edition of 1809.

Reed was one of the leading figures of the Revolutionary era. As delegate to the Continental Congress, aide and secretary to Washington, Adjutant General, volunteer soldier, and Governor of Pennsylvania, he was an active and able man, and his early death was much regretted.

Soon to the grave descends each honoured name That raised their country to this blaze of fame: Sages, that planned, and chiefs that led the way To Freedom's temple, all too soon decay, Alike submit to one impartial doom, Their glories closing in perpetual gloom, Like the pale splendours of the evening, fade, While night advances, to complete the shade. REED, 'tis for thee we shed the unpurchased tear, Bend o'er thy tomb, and plant our laurels there: Your acts, your life, the noblest pile transcend, And Virtue, patriot Virtue, mourns her friend, Gone to those realms, where worth may claim regard, And gone where virtue meets her best reward. No single art engaged his vigorous mind, In every scene his active genius shined: Nature in him, in honour to our age, At once composed the soldier and the sage-- Firm to his purpose, vigilant, and bold, Detesting traitors, and despising gold, He scorned all bribes from Britain's hostile throne For all his country's wrongs he held his own. REED, rest in peace: for time's impartial page Shall raise the blush on this ungrateful age: Long in these climes thy name shall flourish fair, The statesman's pattern, and the poet's care; Long in these climes thy memory shall remain, And still new tributes from new ages gain, Fair to the eye that injured honour rise-- Nor traitors triumph while the patriot dies.

The following are the variations in the 1786 edition:

Swift to the dust.

These heights.

Unalter'd.

Dim.

Thy own brave deeds.

Manly.

Were thrice.

Blast the wrongs of.

On these plains.