Probably few persons can conceive the hopes, fears, doubts and anxieties of a person placed at so critical a period in the prominent station you were called on to sustain.
General, the approbation of your own heart, and the applauses of your fellow citizens are the best commentaries on your conduct.
With sentiments of high consideration
I have the honor to remain
Most respectfully, yours &c. &c. &c.
ANGUS UMPHRAVILLE.
"Conscious of his weakness, see! the child With out-stretch'd arms, and eyes imploring Entreats you from the ground to lift him."
IMMORTAL nymphs, Parnassian nine,
Blooming sisters, maids divine!
COLUMBIA'S youthful bard inspire,
With some rich portion of immortal fire!
And thou whom PERSIA'S prostrate sons adore
PнœBUS on me thy choicest influence pour.
Ah! not to me the pow'rs belong
Which grac'd old HOMER'S lofty song,
Else would I, with a Poet's pride
Pour forth the sweet, the golden tide,
Now softly flowing, smoothly glide,
Now like some river deep and wide
O'er high rocks opposing, gushing,
Thund'ring, foaming, downwards rushing,
The flood with heart-appalling roar,
Unconfin'd, disdains a shore.
Ah! vainly tries the lark to soar with eagle wing,
Or humble bard with ORPHEAN pow'rs to sing.
No room in Gothic tow'r with age in wisdom grey,
Beheld his lamp expire at dawn of day.
No Isis, consecrated shore,
Or flowing CAM's learn'd margin bore
Or traces of his footstep's way,
Or where he conn'd the classic lay.
Yet oft, where pride of English song!
Thames pours his wealthy tides along
Through fertile fields, and meads, and vales,
Through golden glades, and flow'ry dales,
To where beneath umbrageous gloom,
Sleeps Nature's Poet in his tomb!
With lovely Lydia by my side
I've sat from morn to eventide,
For her the infant song I'd raise,
My proudest triumph-Lydia's praise.
"Ah monarchs! did ye know the mirth ye mar,
Not in the toils of Glory would ye fret,
The hoarse dull drum would sleep,
And man be happy yet!"
Lord Byron's Childe Harold.
Proud Britain claim'd the wide domain
Of Ocean's deep and vasty plain,
And while her crosses she unfurl❜d,
Thunder'd defiance to the world.
While Europe own'd the mighty war
COLUMBIA, peaceful 'midst the jar,
A friend to all, a foe-to none,
She traded peacefully alone.
Britain beheld the tranquil dame
And fear'd, a rival to her fame.
"And shall her sons contentment know,
"While Europe I have fill'd with woe?
"No the lost world will I regain,
"Her sailors press, her commerce chain,
"All mine shall be the subject main !"
She spake, heav'd high her haughty breast,
Fill'd with ambition, void of rest.
A 2
She comes! the proud invader comes
To waste our country, spoil our homes,
To lay our towns and cities low,
And bid our mothers' tears to flow,
Our wives lament, our orphans weep,
To seize the empire of the deep !—
Her annual circuit of the sun,
Now twice th' ensanguin'd earth had run,
Since ruthless War's destructive brand
Had scatter'd horrors o'er the land.
Whence is this universal grief?
Declare, O Muse! in record brief:
Their own the British legions call
COLUMBIA'S infant CAPITAL!
And POTOMAC, thy blushing stream
Views the red flames' guilty beam
Spread over WASHINGTON its gleam..
Suspense flies from her fatal shore
And hovers over BALTIMORE,
For active war against the foe,
Her sons, the sons of freedom show.
Wilt thou to proud invaders yield
The bloodless, undisputed field ?
Soon shall thy loud artillery speak:
Thou art not fearful, sad, or weak
Thou Granary of the Chesapeake !
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