The Procession To Sylvania[384]

In Life's dull round, how often folks are cross'd, Their projects spoil'd, their sayings misapplied; Some friends in woods and some in oceans lost, Some doom'd to walk on foot, while others ride.

But, now, let preachers moralize in verse, While I to yonder caravan attend That all prepar'd, like some slow moving herse Begins its journey to an Indian land;

Bound for Sylvania!--sad, disheartening town, When thou art nam'd how many a nymph will sigh, Sigh, lest her sweet-heart should return a clown With grizly homespun coat, long beard, and pumpkin pye.

This caravan with wondrous geer is stow'd, All sorts of moveables--straw beds, and cradles, Old records, salted fish, make up their load, With kegs of brandy, frying pans, and ladles.

A pensive Printer in a one-horse chair (Dragg'd slowly on by sullen sleepy steed, With some ill-fated squires) brings up the rear, Contriving future news for folks to read.

To guard the whole, a trusty knight appears, With chosen men, to keep the wolves at bay: They march--and lo! Belinda all in tears That bears must hug instead of ladies gay.

Published in the Daily Advertiser, Dec. 30, 1789, with this introduction: "The seat of government in South Carolina is removed by act of Assembly from Charleston to Columbia, a dismal place in the centre of that state consisting of only four houses. This removal is by many in Carolina considered as premature and amongst other animadversions has occasioned the two following poetic pieces which from several circumstances we conclude to have been written by Mr. Freneau." The title of the poem was originally "The Procession to Columbia." It was published only in the 1795 edition.