"Alas! (you cry) that is not all: "My former friendships I recall, "My house, my farm, my days, my nights, "Scenes vanish'd now, and past delights."-- Distance for absence you mistake-- Here, days and nights their circuits make: Here, Nature walks her beauteous round, And friendship may--perhaps--be found. If times grow dark, or wealth retires, Let Reason check your proud desires: Virtue the humblest garb can wear, And loss of wealth is loss of care. Thus half unwilling, half resign'd, Desponding, why, the generous mind?-- Think right,--nor be the hour delayed That flies the sun, to seek the shade. Though injured, exiled, or alone, Nobly presume the world your own, Convinced that, since the world began, Time, only, makes The Banish'd Man. [40] Published in the _Daily Advertiser_, September 1, 1790, with the introduction: "A little before Lord Bolingbroke was banished into France, he wrote an essay upon Exile.--Some of his thoughts on that occasion are expressed in the following Stanzas." Text from the 1809 edition. THE DEPARTURE[41] Occasioned by the Removal of Congress from New-York to Philadelphia.--[1790.] From Hudson's banks, in proud array, (Too mean to claim a longer stay) Their new ideas to improve, Behold the generous Congress move! Such thankless conduct much we feared, When Timon's coach stood ready geered, And He--the foremost on the floor, Stood pointing to the Delaware shore. So long confined to little things, They sigh to be where Bavius sings, Where Sporus builds his splendid pile, And Bufo's tawdry Seasons smile. New chaplains, now, shall ope their jaws, New salaries grease unworthy paws: Some reverend man, that turtle carves, Will fatten, while the solder starves. The Yorker asks--but asks in vain-- "What demon bids them 'move again? "Whoever 'moves must suffer loss, "And rolling stones collect no moss. "Have we not paid for chaplains' prayers, "That heaven might smile on state affairs?-- "Put some things up, pulled others down, "And raised our streets through half the town? "Have we not, to our utmost, strove "That Congress might not hence remove-- "At dull debates no silence broke, "And walked on tip-toe while they spoke? "Have we not toiled through cold and heat, "To make the Federal Pile complete-- "Thrown down our Fort, to give them air, "And sent our guns, the devil knows where? "Times change! but Memory still recalls "The Day, when ruffians scaled their walls-- "Sovereigns besieged by angry men, "Mere prisoners in the town of Penn? "Can they forget when, half afraid, "The timorous Council[A] lent no aid; "But left them to the rogues that rob, "The tender mercies of the mob? [A] See the history of those times.--_Freneau's note._