Subjected to despotic sway, Compelled all mandates to obey, Once in this dome I humbly bowed, A member of the murmuring crowd, Where Pedro Blanco held his reign, The tyrant of a small domain. By him a numerous herd controuled, The smart, the stupid, and the bold, Essayed some little share to gain Of the vast treasures of his brain; Some learned the Latin, some the Greek, And some in flowery style to speak; Some writ their themes, while others read, And some with Euclid stuffed the head; Some toiled in verse, and some in prose, And some in logick sought repose; Some learned to cypher, some to draw, And some began to study law. But all is ruined, all is done, The tutor to the shades is gone, And all his pupils, led astray, Have each found out a different way. Some are in chains of wedlock bound, And some are hanged and some are drowned; Some are advanced to posts and places, And some in pulpits screw their faces; Some at the bar a living gain, Perplexing what they should explain; To soldiers turned, a bolder band Repel the invaders of the land; Some to the arts of physic bred, Despatch their patients to the dead; Some plough the land, and some the sea, And some are slaves, and some are free; Some court the great, and some the muse, And some subsist by mending shoes-- While others--but so vast the throng, The Cobblers shall conclude my song. [97] In the 1786 edition the title is "The Desolate Academy." In place of the first six lines above, the 1786 edition had the following: "Subjected to despotic rule Once in this dome I went to school, Where _Pedro Passive_ held his reign, The tyrant of a small domain." LINES TO A COASTING CAPTAIN[98] Shipwrecked and Nearly Drowned on Hatteras Shoals So long harassed by winds and seas, 'Tis time, at length, to take your ease, Change ruffian waves for quiet groves[99] And war's loud blast for sylvan loves. In all your rounds, 'tis passing strange No fair one tempts you to a change-- Madness it is, you must agree, To lodge alone 'till forty-three. Old Plato said, no blessing here Could equal Love--if but sincere; And writings penn'd by heaven, have shown That man can ne'er be blest alone. O'er life's meridian have you pass'd; The night of death advances fast! No props you plant for your decline, No partner soothes these cares of thine. If Neptune's self, who ruled the main, Kept sea-nymphs there to ease his pain; Yourself, who skim that empire o'er, Might surely keep one nymph on shore. Myrtilla fair, in yonder grove, Has so much beauty, so much love, That, on her lip, the meanest fly Is happier far than you or I. [98] In the 1786 edition the title is "The Sea-Faring Bachelor;" in 1795 it was changed to "Advice to a Friend." [99] "And seek a bride--for few can find The sea a mistress to their mind."--_Ed. 1786._ TO THE AMERICANS[100]