_To the_ Senate[C] _of York, with all due submission, Of honest_ HUGH GAINE _the humble Petition;[215] An account of his Life he will also prefix, And some trifles that happened in_ seventy-six; _He hopes that your Honours will take no offence, If he sends you some groans of contrition from hence, And, further, to prove that he's truly sincere, He wishes you all a_ happy New Year. [A] A character well remembered in New York, and the adjacent States,--now deceased.--_Freneau's note._ Gaine died April 25, 1807. [B] The British army evacuated New York the November following.--_Ib._ [C] The Legislature of the State were at this time in session at Fishkill.--_Ib._ And, first, he informs, in his representation, That he once was a printer of good reputation, And dwelt in the street called Hanover Square, (You'll know where it is, if you ever was there) Next door to the dwelling[216] of doctor Brownjohn, (Who now to the drug-shop[217] of Pluto is gone) But what do I say--who e'er came to town, And knew not Hugh Gaine at the Bible and Crown. Now, if I was ever so given to lie, My dear native country I wouldn't deny; (I know you love Teagues) and I shall not conceal That I came from the kingdom where Phelim O'Neale And other brave worthies ate butter and cheese, And walk'd in the clover-fields up to their knees; Full early in youth, without basket or burden, With a staff in my hand, I passed over Jordan, (I remember my comrade was doctor Magraw,[D] And many strange things on the waters we saw, Sharks, dolphins, and sea-dogs, bonettas, and whales, And birds at the tropic, with quills in their tails) And came to your city and government seat, And found it was true you had something to eat; When thus I wrote home--"The country is good, "They have plenty of victuals and plenty of wood: "The people are kind, and, whatever they think, "I shall make it appear, I can swim where they'll sink; "Dear me! they're so brisk, and so full of good cheer, "By my soul, I suspect they have always new year, "And therefore conceive it is good to be here." So said, and so acted--I put up a press, And printed away with amazing success; Neglected my person, and looked like a fright, Was bothered all day, and was busy all night, Saw money come in, as the papers went out, While Parker and Weyman[E] were driving about, And cursing and swearing, and chewing their cuds, And wishing Hugh Gaine and his press in the suds: Ned Weyman was printer, you know to the king, And thought he had got all the world in a string, (Though riches not always attend on a throne) So he swore I had found the philosopher's stone, And called me a rogue, and a son of a bitch, Because I knew better than him to get rich. To malice like that 'twas in vain to reply--