PHILIP FRENEAU (1752-1832) (The text and author's notes are taken from early editions and collated with the invaluable "Poems of Philip Freneau," ed. by F. L. Pattee. 3 vols. 1902.) THE POWER OF FANCY Wakeful, vagrant, restless thing, A spark from Jove's resplendent throne, This spark of bright, celestial flame, 10 Ah! what is all this mighty whole. On the surface of the brain On some high, steep, pointed rock, Lo! she walks upon the moon, Of the bright, harmonious spheres, Now like lightning she descends 20 30 40 Now she views Arcadian rocks, Where the shepherds guard their flocks, And, while yet her wings she spreads, Sees chrystal streams and coral beds, Wanders to some desert deep, Or some dark, enchanted steep, By the full moonlight doth shew Forests of a dusky blue, Where, upon some mossy bed, Swift, she stretches o'er the seas Shape thy course o'er land and sea, Lead me to yon' chalky cliff, Over rock and over reef, Into Britain's fertile land, Stretching far her proud command. Look back and view, thro' many a year, Cæsar, Julius Cæsar, there. Now to Tempe's verdant wood, Greece, arouse thy humbled head, Where are all thy mighty dead, 50 60 70 80 90 100 And carried vengeance through the world? Now she bears me far away Farther, farther in the east, Till it almost meets the west, Let us wandering both be lost On Taitis sea-beat coast, Bear me from that distant strand, Over ocean, over land, To California's golden shore- Now, tho' late, returning home, 110 120 130 Yet must those eyes in darkness stay, That once were rivals to the day?Like heaven's bright lamp beneath the main They are but set to rise again. Fancy, thou the muses' pride, In thy painted realms reside The universe could hold no more: Fancy, to thy power I owe Half my happiness below; By thee Elysian groves were made. 140 149 From scoundrels and rascals,-do keep us all clear. From pirates sent out by command of the king To murder and plunder, but never to swing. 10 1A pseudonym frequently used by Freneau. And if they do not keep Columbia free, What will alas! become of Liberty? Great souls grow bolder in their country's cause, Detest enslavers, and despise their laws. Heard or not heard, and struggle to be free. Born to contend, our lives we place at stake, And grow immortal by the stand we make. O you, who, far from liberty detain'd, Wear out existence in some slavish land, Fly thence from tyrants, and their flatt'ring throng, And bring the fiery freeborn soul along. 20 Neptune for you shall smooth the hoary deep, And awe the wild tumultuous waves to sleep; Here vernal woods, and flow'ry meadows blow, Luxuriant harvests in rich plenty grow, Commerce extends as far as waves can Still guard each pass; like ancient Romans, you At once are soldiers, and are farmers too; Still arm impatient for the vengeful blow, And rush intrepid on the yielding foe; As when of late midst clouds of fire and smoke, Whole squadrons fell, or to the center . shook, And even the bravest to your arm gave way, And death, exulting, ey'd the unhappy fray. Behold, your Warren bleeds, who both inspir'd To noble deeds, and by his actions fir'd; 40 What pity, heaven!-but you who yet re main Affect his spirit as you lov'd the man: Once more, and yet once more for freedom strive, Received the honour of his Honour's weight; This man of straw the regal purple bound, But dullness, deepcst dullness, hovered round. Next Graves, who wields the trident of the brine, The tall arch-captain of the embattled line, All gloomy sate-mumbling of flame and fire, Balls, cannon, ships, and all their damned attire; 10 Well pleased to live in never-ending hum, But empty as the interior of his drum. Hard by, Burgoyne assumes an ample space, And seemed to meditate with studious face, As if again he wished our world to see Long, dull, dry letters, writ to General Lee Huge scrawls of words through endless circuits drawn Unmeaning as the errand he's upon.- Lord Piercy seemed to snore-but may the Muse This ill-timed snoring to the peer excuse; Tired was the long boy of his toilsome day, Full fifteen miles he fled-a tedious way; How could he then the dews of Somnus shun, Perhaps not used to walk-much less to |