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ON THE FRIGATE CONSTITUTION
Thus launch'd at length upon the main
And soon prepar'd the seas to roam,
In your capacious breast ere long
Will many an idler find a home
That sells his freedom for a song,
Quits fields and trees
For boisterous seas,
To tread his native soil no more,
And see ‑‑ but not possess
the shore.
Well! let them go ‑‑ can there
be loss
In those whose nature's bounty slight,
From rural vales and freedom's shades
To this dull cage who take their
flight,
The axe, the hoe,
The plow forego,
The buxom milk‑maid's simple
treat,
The bliss of country's life forget,
For tumult here
And toil severe,
A gun their pillow when they sleep,
And when they wake, are wak'd to weep.
Dick Brothers said, "The time will
come,
"When war no more shall prowl the
sea,
"Nor men for pride or plunder roam,
"And my millenium brings them home,
"Howe'er dispers'd through each
degree."
If Richard proves a prophet true,
Why may not we be quiet too,
And turn our bull‑dogs into
lambs,
Saw off the horns of battering rams
As well as
Ye Quakers! see with pure delight,
The times approach when men of might,
And squadrons roving round the ball,
Shall fight each other not at all.
Or fight with wooden guns.
‑‑ The
Time Piece
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The Captain’s Clerk |