The poem was revised for the edition of 1795, so as to refer to the edition of 1788, issued seven years before the edition of 1795. It was not published in 1809. "*'The National Gazette is--the vehicle of party spleen and opposition to the great principles of order, virtue, and religion.' Gaz. U. States." STANZAS[59] To the memory of two young persons (twin brothers), ROBERT SEVIER and WILLIAM SEVIER, who were killed by the Savages on Cumberland River, in North-Carolina, in attempting to assist a new settler, who was then passing the river with a numerous family In the same hour two lovely youths were born, Nature, with care, had moulded either clay: In the same hour, from this world's limits torn, The murderous Indian seiz'd their lives away. Distress to aid, impell'd each generous breast; With nervous arm they brav'd the adverse tide, In friendship's cause encounter'd death's embrace, Blameless they liv'd, in honour's path they died. But ah! what art shall dry a father's tears! Who shall relieve, or what beguile his pain! Clouds shade his sun, and griefs advance with years-- Nature gave joys, to take those joys again. Thou, that shall come to these sequester'd streams, When times to come their story shall relate; Let the fond heart, that native worth esteems, Revere their virtues, and bemoan their fate. [59] Published in the _National Gazette_, July 28, 1792, with a note explaining that the brothers were killed "on the 15th day of January last." TO A PERSECUTED PHILOSOPHER[60] As Aristippus once, with weary feet, Pursued his way through polish'd Athens' street, Minding no business but his own; Out rush'd a set of whelps With sun-burnt scalps, (Black, red, and brown,) That nipt his heels, and nibbled at his gown. While, with his staff, he kept them all at bay Some yelp'd aloud, some howl'd in dismal strain, Some wish'd the sage to bark again:-- Even little Shylock seem'd to say, "Answer us, sir, in your best way:-- "We are, 'tis true, a snarling crew, "But with our jaws have gain'd applause, "And--sir--can worry such as you." The sage beheld their spite with steady eye, And only stopp'd to make this short reply: "Hark ye, my dogs, I have not learn'd to yelp, "Nor waste my breath on every lousy whelp; "Much less, to write, or stain my wholesome page "In answering puppies--bursting with their rage: "Hence to your straw!--such contest I disdain: "Learn this, ('tis not amiss) "For Men I keep a pen, "For dogs, a cane!" [60] First printed in the _National Gazette_, August 29, 1792, under the title, "An Old Heathen Story. Adapted to Modern Times." Republished only in the 1795 edition. TO AN ANGRY ZEALOT[61] [In Answer to Sundry Virulent Charges]