The king of the French and the queen of the North At the head of the play, for the season, we find: From the spark that we kindled, a flame has gone forth To astonish the world and enlighten mankind: With a code of new doctrines the universe rings, And Paine is addressing strange sermons to kings. Thus launch'd, as we are, on the ocean of news, In hopes that your pleasure our pains will repay, All honest endeavours the author will use To furnish a feast for the grave and the gay: At least he'll essay such a track to pursue That the world shall approve--and his news shall be true. [45] First published in number one of the _National Gazette_, October 31, 1791, under the title "Poetical Address to the Public of the United States." It was Freneau's salutatory at the beginning of his new career in Philadelphia. Text from the edition of 1795. The poem was omitted from the edition of 1809. LINES[46] By H. Salem, on his Return from Calcutta Your men of the land, from the king to Jack Ketch, All join in supposing the sailor a wretch, That his life is a round of vexation and woe, With always too much or too little to do: In the dead of the night, when other men sleep, He, starboard and larboard, his watches must keep; Imprisoned by Neptune, he lives like a dog, And to know where he is, must depend on a Log, Must fret in a calm, and be sad in a storm; In winter much trouble to keep himself warm: Through the heat of the summer pursuing his trade, No trees, but his topmasts, to yield him a shade: Then, add to the list of the mariner's evils, The water corrupted, the bread full of weevils, Salt junk to be eat, be it better or worse, And, often bull beef of an Irishman's horse: Whosoever is free, he must still be a slave, (Despotic is always the rule on the wave;) Not relished on water, your lords of the main Abhor the republican doctrines of Paine, And each, like the despot of Prussia, may say That his crew has no right, but the right to obey. Such things say the lubbers, and sigh when they've said 'em, But things are not so bad as their fancies persuade 'em: There ne'er was a task but afforded some ease, Nor a calling in life, but had something to please. If the sea has its storms, it has also its calms, A time to sing songs and a time to sing psalms.-- Yes--give me a vessel well timbered and sound, Her bottom good plank, and in rigging well found, If her spars are but staunch, and her oakham swelled tight, From tempests and storms I'll extract some delight-- At sea I would rather have Neptune my jailor, Than a lubber on shore, that despises a sailor. Do they ask me what pleasure I find on the sea?-- Why, absence from land is a pleasure to me: A hamper of porter, and plenty of grog, A friend, when too sleepy, to give me a jog, A coop that will always some poultry afford, Some bottles of gin, and no parson on board,