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As his prophetic soul grew stronger,
He found he could hold in no longer.
First from the pole, as fierce he shook,
His wig from pitchy durance broke,
His mouth unglued, his feathers flutter'd,
His tarr'd skirts crack'd, and thus he utter'd:
"Ah, Mr. Constable, in vain

We strive 'gainst wind and tide and rain!
Behold my doom! this feathery omen
Portends what dismal times are coming.
Now future scenes, before my eyes,
And second-sighted forms arise.

I hear a voice, that calls away,

And cries 'The Whigs will win the day.'
My beck'ning Genius gives command,
And bids me fly the fatal land,

Where, changing name and constitution,
Rebellion turns to Revolution,
While Loyalty, oppress'd, in tears,
Stands trembling for its neck and ears.

“Go, summon all our brethren, greeting,
To muster at our usual meeting;
There my prophetic voice shall warn 'em
Of all things future that concern 'em,
And scenes disclose on which, my friend,
Their conduct and their lives depend.

There I-but first 'tis more of use,

From this vile pole to set me loose;

Then go with cautious steps and steady,

While I steer home and make all ready."

Lemuel Hopkins.

BORN in Waterbury, Conn., 1750. DIED at Hartford, Conn., 1801.

ON GENERAL ETHAN ALLEN.

[American Poems, Selected and Original. 1793. Collected by Dr. E. H. Smith.]

[blocks in formation]

And grim with metaphysic scowl,

With quill just plucked from wing of owl)
As rage or reason rise or sink,

To shed his blood, or shed his ink.
Behold inspired from Vermont dens
The seer of Antichrist descends,

To feed new mobs with hell-born manna
In Gentile lands of Susquehanna,
And teach the Pennsylvania quaker,
High blasphemies against his Maker.
Behold him move, ye stanch divines!
His tall head bustling through the pines;
All front he seems like wall of brass,

And brays tremendous as an ass;

One hand is clinch'd to batter noses,

While t' other scrawls 'gainst Paul and Moses.

ON A PATIENT KILLED BY A CANCER QUACK.

[Kettell's "Specimens of American Poetry." 1829.]

ERE lies a fool flat on his back,

HE

The victim of a cancer quack;
Who lost his money and his life,
By plaster, caustic, and by knife.
The case was this-a pimple rose,
South-east a little of his nose,

Which daily reddened and grew bigger,
As too much drinking gave it vigor.

A score of gossips soon ensure

Full threescore different modes of cure;
But yet the full-fed pimple still
Defied all petticoated skill;
When fortune led him to peruse
A hand-bill in the weekly news,
Signed by six fools of different sorts,
All cured of cancers made of warts;
Who recommend, with due submission,
This cancer-monger as magician.
Fear winged his flight to find the quack,

And prove his cancer-curing knack;

But on his way he found another,—

A second advertising brother:

But as much like him as an owl

Is unlike every handsome fowl;

Whose fame had raised as broad a fog,
And of the two the greater hog:

Who used a still more magic plaster,
That sweat forsooth, and cured the faster.
This doctor viewed, with moony eyes
And scowled-up face, the pimple's size;
Then christened it in solemn answer,
And cried, "This pimple's name is-cancer.
But courage, friend, I see you're pale,
My sweating plasters never fail;
I've sweated hundreds out with ease,
With roots as long as maple trees;
And never failed in all my trials—
Behold these samples here in vials!
Preserved to show my wondrous merits,
Just as my liver is-in spirits.
For twenty joes the cure is done-"
The bargain struck, the plaster on,
Which gnawed the cancer at its leisure,
And pained his face above all measure.
But still the pimple spread the faster,
And swelled, like toad that meets disaster.
Thus foiled, the doctor gravely swore,

It was a right rose-cancer sore;

Then stuck his probe beneath the beard, And showed him where the leaves appeared;

And raised the patient's drooping spirits,

By praising up the plaster's merits.

Quoth he, "The roots now scarcely stick

I'll fetch her out like crab or tick;
And make it rendezvous, next trial,
With six more plagues, in my old vial."
Then purged him pale with jalap drastic,
And next applied the infernal caustic.
But yet, this semblance bright of hell
Served but to make the patient yell;
And, gnawing on with fiery pace,
Devoured one broadside of his face;
"Courage, 'tis done," the doctor cried,
And quick the incision knife applied:
That with three cuts made such a hole,
Out flew the patient's tortured soul!
Go, readers, gentle, eke and simple,
If you have wart, or corn, or pimple,
To quack infallible apply;

Here's room enough for you to lie.
His skill triumphant still prevails,
For death's a cure that never fails.

OUR

John Ledyard.

BORN in Groton, Conn., 1751. DIED at Cairo, Egypt, 1789.

THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN COOK.

[Journal of Capt. Cook's Last Voyage. 1783.]

UR return to this bay was as disagreeable to us as it was to the inhabitants, for we were reciprocally tired of each other. They had been oppressed and were weary of our prostituted alliance; and we were aggrieved by the consideration of wanting the provisions and refreshments of the country, which we had every reason to suppose, from their behavior antecedent to our departure, would now be withheld from us, or brought in such small quantities as to be worse than none. What we anticipated was true. When we entered the bay, where before we had the shouts of thousands to welcome our arrival, we had the mortification not to see a single canoe, and hardly any inhabitants in the towns. Cook was chagrined, and his people were soured. Toward night, however, the canoes came in, but the provisions, both in quantity and quality, plainly informed us that times were altered; and what was very remarkable was the exorbitant price they asked, and the particular fancy they all at once took to iron daggers or dirks, which were the only articles that were any ways current, with the chiefs at least. It was also equally evident from the looks of the natives, as well as every other appearance, that our former friendship was at an end, and that we had nothing to do but to hasten our departure to some different island, where our vices were not known, and where our extrinsic virtues might gain us another short space of being wondered at, and doing as we pleased, or, as our tars expressed it, of being happy by the month.

On the thirteenth, at night, the Discovery's large cutter, which was at her usual moorings at the bower buoy, was taken away. On the fourteenth the captains met to consult what should be done on this alarming occasion; and the issue of their opinions was, that one of the two captains should land with armed boats and a guard of marines at Kiverua, and attempt to persuade Teraiobu, who was then at his house in that town, to come on board upon a visit, and that when he was on board he should be kept prisoner until his subjects should release him by a restitution of the cutter; and if it was afterward thought proper, he, or some of the family who might accompany him, should be kept as perpetual hostages for the good behavior of the people, during the remaining part of our continuance at Kearakekua.

This plan was the more approved of by Cook, as he had so repeatedly

on former occasions to the southward employed it with success. Clerke was then in a deep decline of his health and too feeble to undertake the affair, though it naturally devolved upon him, as a point of duty not well transferable; he therefore begged Cook to oblige him so much as to take that part of the business of the day upon himself in his stead. This Cook agreed to, but previous to his landing made some additional arrangements respecting the possible event of things, though it is certain from the appearance of the subsequent arrangements that he guarded more against the flight of Teraiobu, or those he could wish to see, than from an attack or even much insult. The disposition of our guards, when the movements began, was thus: Cook in his pinnace with six private marines; a corporal, sergeant, and two lieutenants of marines went ahead, followed by the launch with other marines and seamen on one quarter, and the small cutter on the other with only the crew on board. This part of the guard rowed for Kearakekua. Our large cutter and two boats from the Discovery, had orders to proceed to the mouth of the bay, form at equal distances across, and prevent any communication by water from any other part of the island to the towns within the bay, or from those without. Cook landed at Kiverua about nine o'clock in the morning with the marines in the pinnace, and went by a circuitous march to the house of Teraiobu, in order to evade the suspicion of any design. This route led through a considerable part of the town which discovered every symptom of mischief, though Cook, blinded by some fatal cause, could not perceive it, or, too self-confident, would not regard it.

The town was evacuated by the women and children, who had retired to the circumjacent hills, and appeared almost destitute of men; but there were at that time two hundred chiefs and more than twice that number of other men detached and secreted in different parts of the houses nearest to Teraiobu, exclusive of unknown numbers without the skirts of the town,—and those that were seen were dressed many of them in black. When the guard reached Teraiobu's house, Cook ordered the lieutenant of marines to go in and see if he was at home, and if he was, to bring him out; the lieutenant went in, and found the old man sitting with two or three old women of distinction, and when he gave Teraiobu to understand that Cook was without and wanted to see him, he discovered the greatest marks of uneasiness but arose and accompanied the lieutenant out, holding his hand. When he came before Cook, he squatted down upon his hams as a mark of humiliation, and Cook took him by the hand from the lieutenant, and conversed with him.

The appearance of our parade, both by water and on shore, though conducted with the utmost silence, and with as little ostentation as possible, had alarmed the towns on both sides of the bay, but particularly Kiverua, where the people were in complete order for an onset; other

VOL. III.-27

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