"While on one of his visits at Gaine's a customer saluted him loudly by name, the sound of which arrested the attention of the old Royalist, who, lifting up his eyes, interrogated him: 'Is your name Freneau?' 'Yes,' answered the Republican poet. '_Philip_ Freneau?' rejoined Gaine. 'Yes sir! the same.' 'Then, sir,' warmly uttered Gaine, 'you are a very clever fellow. Let me have the pleasure of taking you by the hand. Will you walk round the corner and join me in my parlor. We will take a glass of wine together. You, sir, have given me and my paper a wide reputation." STANZAS[233] Occasioned by the Departure of the British from Charleston, December 14, 1782 His triumphs of a moment done, His race of desolation run, The Briton, yielding to his fears, To other shores with sorrow steers: To other shores--and coarser climes He goes, reflecting on his crimes, His broken oaths, a murdered Hayne, And blood of thousands, spilt in vain. To Cooper's stream, advancing slow, Ashley no longer tells his woe; No longer mourns his limpid flood Discoloured deep with human blood. Lo! where those social streams combine, Again the friends of Freedom join; And, while they stray, where once they bled, Rejoice to find their tyrants fled. Since memory paints that dismal day When British squadrons held the sway, And circling close on every side, By sea and land retreat denied-- Can she recall that mournful scene, And not the virtues of a Greene, Who great in war--in danger tried, Has won the day, and crushed their pride. Through barren wastes and ravaged lands, He led his bold undaunted bands; Through sickly climes his standard bore Where never army marched before: By fortitude, with patience joined, (The virtues of a noble mind) He spread, where'er our wars are known, His country's honour and his own. Like Hercules, his generous plan Was to redress the wrongs of men; Like him, accustomed to subdue, He freed a world from monsters too. Through every want and every ill We saw him persevering still, Through Autumn's damps and Summer's heat, 'Till his great purpose was complete. Like the bold eagle, from the skies That stoops, to seize his trembling prize, He darted on the slaves of kings At Camden plains and Eutaw Springs. Ah! had our friends that led the fray Survived the ruins of that day, We should not damp our joy with pain, Nor, sympathizing, now complain. Strange! that of those who nobly dare Death always claims so large a share, That those of virtue most refined Are soonest to the grave consigned!-- But fame is theirs--and future days On pillared brass shall tell their praise; Shall tell--when cold neglect is dead-- "These for their country fought and bled." [233] Published in the _Freeman's Journal_, February 19, 1783, and copied by the Charleston _Weekly Gazette_, May 13 following. Text from the edition of 1809.