The Poems of Philip Freneau, Poet of the American Revolution. Volume 3 (of 3)Freneau, Philip Morin
General
The Poems of Philip Freneau, Poet of the American Revolution. Volume 3 (of 3)
Freneau, Philip Morin
American poetry
A friend[B] from hell, of murderous brood,
Stain'd with a hapless husband's blood,
Unites with Danube[C] and the Spree,[C]
Who arm to make the French their prey:
To check their hosts and chill with fear,
Frenchmen, advance to your frontier.
There dig the Eternal Tomb of kings,
Or Poland's fate each monster brings,
Mows millions down, your cause defeats,
And Ismael's horrid scene[D] repeats.
[B] Catharine the 2d, present Empress of Russia, who deposed
her husband, Peter the 3d, and deprived him of life in
July, 1762, while in prison.--_Freneau's note._
[C] Two great rivers of Germany; here metaphorically designating
the Austrian and Prussian powers.--_Ib._
[D] The Turkish fortress of Ismael, in 1786, stormed by the
Russian army. After carrying it by assault, upwards of
30,000 persons, men, women, and children were slaughtered
by the Russian barbarians, in less than three hours.--_Ib._
Ye nations brave, so long rever'd,
Whom Rome, in all her glory, fear'd;
Whose stubborn souls no tyrant broke
To bow the neck to Cæsar's yoke--
Scythians! whom Romans never chain'd;
Germans! that unsubdued remain'd,
Ah! see your sons, a sordid race,
With despots leagu'd, to their disgrace
Aid the base cause that you abhor,
And hurl on France the storm of war.
Our bold attempts shake modern Rome,
She bids her kindred despots come;
From Italy her forces draws
To waste their blood in Tarquin's cause:
A hundred hords of foes advance,
Embodying on the verge of France;
'Mongst these, to guide the flame of war,
I see Porsenna's[E] just a score,
While from the soil, by thousands, spring
Scevola's[F] to destroy each king.
[E] An ancient king of Etruria who took Tarquin's part against
the Romans.--_Freneau's note._
[F] Scevola, who attempted the life of Porsenna in his own camp,
but failed.--_Ib._
O Rome! what glory you consign
To those who court your ancient fame!
Frenchmen, like Romans, now shall shine,
And copying them, their ancient honours claim.
O France, my native clime, my country dear,
While youth remains, may I behold you free,
Each tyrant crush'd, no threatening despot near
To endanger Liberty!
By you unfetter'd be all human kind,
No slaves on earth be known
And man be blest, in friendship join'd,
From Tyber to the Amazon!
[67] The Philadelphia _General Advertiser_ of May 21, 1793, reports in
full the "Republican dinner" given Genet, May 18, at which about one
hundred citizens were present, chiefly "French, French-Americans,
officers of the Frigate l'Embuscade, etc." The following is from this
report:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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