In vain you spread your weary wings To shun the hideous gulph below; Our barque can be your only hope-- But man you justly deem your foe. Now hovering near, you stoop to lodge Where yonder lofty canvas swells-- Again take wing--refuse our aid, And rather trust the ruffian gales. But Nature tires! your toils are vain-- Could you on stronger pinions rise Than eagles have--for days to come All you could see are seas and skies. Again she comes, again she lights, And casts a pensive look below-- Weak wanderer, trust the traitor, Man, And take the help that we bestow." Down to his side, with circling flight, She flew, and perch'd, and linger'd there; But, worn with wandering, droop'd her wing, And life resign'd in empty air. [24] Printed in the _Daily Advertiser_, February 22, 1790, under the title "The Bird at Sea," and republished only in the edition of 1795, from which the text is taken. ON THE DEMOLITION OF FORT-GEORGE In New-York--1790[25] As giants once, in hopes to rise, Heaped up their mountains to the skies; With Pelion piled on Ossa, strove To reach the eternal throne of Jove; So here the hands of ancient days Their fortress from the earth did raise, On whose proud heights, proud men to please, They mounted guns and planted trees. Those trees to lofty stature grown-- All is not right!--they must come down, Nor longer waste their wonted shade Where Colden slept, or Tryon strayed. Let him be sad that placed them there,-- We shall a youthful race prepare; Another grove shall bloom, we trust, When this lies prostrate in the dust. Where Dutchmen once, in ages past, Huge walls and ramparts round them cast, New fabrics raised, on new design, Gay streets and palaces shall shine. To foreign kings no more a slave (Disgrace to Freedom's passing wave) No flags we rear, we feign no mirth, Nor prize the day that gave them birth. While time degrades Palmyra low, Augusta lifts her lofty brow-- While Europe falls to wars a prey, Her monarchs here, should have no sway. Another George shall here reside, While Hudson's bold, unfettered tide Well pleased to see this chief so nigh, With livelier aspect passes by. Along his margin, fresh and clean, Ere long shall belles and beaux be seen, Through moon-light shades, delighted, stray, To view the islands and the bay. Of evening dews no more afraid, Reclining in some favourite shade, Each nymph, in rapture with her trees, Shall sigh to quit the western breeze. To barren hills far southward shoved, These noisy guns shall be removed, No longer here a vain expense, Where time has proved them no defence.-- Advance, bright days! make haste to crown With such fair scenes this honoured town.-- Freedom shall find her charter clear, And plant her seat of commerce here.