All haste to clasp her in their arms, Each sees in her a thousand charms-- The Gems that on her bosom glow Attract where love was cold--'till now. Freed from a cruel parent's care, This maid so wealthy and so fair Of each that for possession sues Can hardly tell which beau to choose. Proud of his vast extended reign, (His fancied empire o'er the main) The Briton came, with haughty stride, Preferr'd his suit--but was denied. She thought his style, by much, too rude, By ruffians she would not be woo'd; From Man she wish'd to choose a mate, But not in such a savage state. A Dane, a Dutchman, and a Swede All hop'd to enjoy the charming maid: The Russian, bred in frost and snow, Made love to her that said--no, no. The Spaniard grave, with cloak and sword, Some favour from the nymph implor'd-- Vain were his tears and coaxing art-- She could not bear a jealous heart. The Turk himself, to engage her love, From Asia's coasts began to move; While faded lay his Tartar crown He sigh'd to make this girl his own. In vain they paid the fond address-- No Pope, no Sultan would she bless-- No monarch, tho' allur'd with art, Could gain her wealth, or touch her heart. The Frenchman comes--salutes the fair-- She likes his gallant, marshal air!-- With eager eye, around her waist He clasp'd his arms, and her embrac'd: Smit with his lofty, generous mien, She admires the Gaul, as soon as seen, Grants him her Commerce--yields her charms, And takes a hero to her arms! [96] Published in the _Jersey Chronicle_, May 30, 1795, with the above text. The poem was greatly expanded and changed for the 1815 edition, where it bore the title, "The Political Rival Suitors." MR. JAY'S TREATY[97] Disclosed by Stephens Thomson Mason When the Senate assembled had shut up their door, And had left us no clew their designs to explore, The people were anxious, and whispered their care, But their voice was too weak for the dignified ear. Ye are down, down, down, keep ye down. At length the Sanhedrim were ready to rise, And the crowd were distending their ears and their eyes; But the rabble had nothing to hear or to view, Says the twenty, the secret's too sacred for you, Ye are down, down, down, keep ye down. But Stephens T. Mason, a man we revere, With his name bid the infamous treaty appear, 'Twas the act of a freeman, who join'd with the Ten, To save us from tyranny, rank us with men, Altho' down, down, and like to be down. He gave his assistance, enlighten'd our eyes, And a cloud from all quarters begins to arise, _Vox Dei, Vox Populi_, truly but one, Shall tell dark designers--our will shall be done Till you're down, down, twenty times down. [97] Published in the _Jersey Chronicle_, September 12, 1795, from which the text is taken. As far as I can find the poet never republished it.