The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume I Part 37

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"The bleeding Saviour of a world undone "Bade thy compa.s.sion rise toward thy foe; 150 "Then, stranger, for the sake of Mary's son, "Thy tears of pity on this wretch bestow.

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"'Twas he that stole from my adoring arms "Aspasia, she the loveliest of her kind, "Lucretia's virtue, with a Helen's charms, 155 "Charms of the face, and beauties of the mind.

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"The blushy cheek, the lively, beaming eye, "The ruby lip, the flowing jetty hair, "The stature tall, the aspect so divine, "All beauty, you would think, had center'd there. 160

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"Each future age her virtues shall extol, "Nor the just tribute to her worth refuse; "Fam'd, to the stars Urania bids her rise, "Theme of the moral, and the tragic Muse.

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"Sweet as the fragrance of the vernal morn, 165 "Nipt in its bloom this faded flower I see; "The inspiring angel from that breast is gone, "And life's warm tide forever chill'd in thee!

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"Such charms shall greet my longing soul no more, "Her lively eyes are clos'd in endless shade, 170 "Torpid, she rests on yonder marble floor; "Approach, and see what havock Death has made.

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"Yet, stranger, hold--her charms are so divine, "Such tints of life still on her visage glow, "That even in death this slumbering bride of mine 175 "May seize thy heart, and make thee wretched too.

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"O shun the sight--forbid thy trembling hand "From her pale face to raise the enshrouding lawn,-- "Death claims thy care, obey his stern command, "Trim the dull tapers, for I see no dawn!" 180

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So said, at Death's left side I sate me down, The mourning youth toward his right reclin'd; Death in the middle lay, with all his groans, And much he toss'd and tumbled, sigh'd and pin'd.

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But now this man of h.e.l.l toward me turn'd, 185 And strait, in hideous tone, began to speak; Long held he sage discourse, but I forebore To answer him, much less his news to seek.

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He talk'd of tomb-stones and of monuments, Of Equinoctial climes and India sh.o.r.es, 190 He talk'd of stars that shed their influence, Fevers and plagues, and all their noxious stores.

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He mention'd, too, the guileful _calenture_,[C]

Tempting the sailor on the deep sea main, That paints gay groves upon the ocean floor, 195 Beckoning her victim to the faithless scene.

[C] _Calenture_--an inflammatory fever, attended with a delirium, common in long voyages at sea, in which the diseased persons fancy the sea to be green fields and meadows, and, if they are not hindered, will leap overboard.--_Freneau's note._

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Much spoke he of the myrtle and the yew, Of ghosts that nightly walk the church-yard o'er, Of storms that through the wint'ry ocean blow And dash the well-mann'd galley on the sh.o.r.e, 200

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Of broad-mouth'd cannons, and the thunderbolt, Of sieges and convulsions, dearth and fire, Of poisonous weeds--but seem'd to sneer at these Who by the laurel o'er him did aspire.

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Then with a hollow voice thus went he on: 205 "Get up, and search, and bring, when found, to me, "Some cordial, potion, or some pleasant draught, "Sweet, slumb'rous poppy, or the mild Bohea.

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"But hark, my pitying friend!--and, if you can, "Deceive the grim physician at the door-- 210 "Bring half the mountain springs--ah! hither bring "The cold rock water from the shady bower.

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"For till this night such thirst did ne'er invade, "A thirst provok'd by heav'n's avenging hand; "Hence bear me, friends, to quaff, and quaff again 215 "The cool wave bubbling from the yellow sand.

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"To these dark walls with stately step I came, "Prepar'd your drugs and doses to defy; "Smit with the love of never dying fame, "I came, alas! to conquer--not to die!" 220

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Glad, from his side I sprang, and fetch'd the draught, Which down his greedy throat he quickly swills, Then on a second errand sent me strait, To search in some dark corner for his pills.

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Quoth he, "These pills have long compounded been, 225 "Of dead men's bones and bitter roots, I trow; "But that I may to wonted health return, "Throughout my lank veins shall their substance go."

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So down they went.--He rais'd his fainting head And oft in feeble tone essay'd to talk; 230 Quoth he, "Since remedies have small avail, "a.s.sist unhappy Death once more to walk."

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Then slowly rising from his loathsome bed, On wasted legs the meagre monster stood, Gap'd wide, and foam'd, and hungry seem'd to ask, 235 Tho' sick, an endless quant.i.ty of food.

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Said he, "The sweet melodious flute prepare, "The anthem, and the organ's solemn sound, "Such as may strike my soul with ecstacy, "Such as may from yon' lofty wall rebound. 240

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"Sweet music can the fiercest pains a.s.suage, "She bids the soul to heaven's blest mansions rise, "She calms despair, controuls infernal rage "And deepest anguish, when it hears her, dies.

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