Not from those dismal dreary coasts I come Where wizzard Faustus chews his brimstone rolls, Nor have I been to wrangle with the men Of that sad country, where, for want of rum, Dead putrid water from the stagnant fen Is drank, unmingled, by departed souls: Nor from that dog-house do I bring you news, Where Macedonian Philip[A] mends old shoes, But from that dreadful place arrived, Where men in debt at cribbage play, And I most cunningly contrived To fatten on two groats a day-- Full on my back now turned the key, The 'squire himself is not so free. When to these rugged walls, a fathom thick, I came, directed by the sheriff's stick, Alas, said I, what can they mean to do! I am not conscious of one roguish trick! I am no thief--I took no Christian's life, Nor have I meddled with the parson's wife, (Which would have been a dreadful thing you know) Then, by these gloomy walls, this iron gate Appointed by the wisdom of your state To shut in little rogues, and keep out great; Tell me, ye pretty lads, that deal in law, Ye men of mighty wigs, ye judges, say-- Say! by the jailor's speckled face That never beamed one blush of grace; How long must I In prison lie For just nine guineas--that I cannot pay! Return, ye happy times, when all were free, No jails on land, no nets at sea; When mountain beasts unfettered ran, And man refused to shut up man, As men of modern days have shut up me!-- This is the dreary dark abode Of poverty and solitude; Such was the gloomy cell where Bunyan lay While his dear pilgrim helped the time away-- Such was the place where Wakefield's vicar drew Grave morals from the imprisoned crew, And found both time to preach and pray. In bed of straw and broken chair What consolation could be found! No gay companions ventured there To push the ruddy liquor round! From jug of stone I drank, alone, A beverage, neither clear nor strong No table laid, No village maid Came there to cheer me with her song; My days were dull, my nights were long! My evening dreams, My morning schemes Were how to break that cruel chain, And, Jenny, be with you again. [338] The version in the _Freeman's Journal_ is dated Philadelphia, April 10, 1787. The title in the 1788 version is "The Insolvent's Release and Miseries of a Country Jail." The "H. Salem" was first added in the edition of 1809, the text of which I have followed. [A] See Lucian's Dialogues; to the following effect: "Great scholars have in Lucian read, When Philip, king of Greece, was dead His soul and body did divide. And each part took, a different side; One rose a star, the other fell Below--and mended shoes in hell."--_Freneau's note._ MAY TO APRIL[339]