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Poetical Addresses 
 
 GEO. ALFRED TOWNSEND. 
 
 — -^"^t — 
 
 PUBUSHBD BY 
 
 E. F. BONAVENTURE & CO., 
 
 No. 2 BARCLAV STREET, ASTOR HOUSE. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 188L 
 
Poetical Addresses 
 
 GEO. ALFRED TOWNSEND. 
 
 — -^-«- 
 
 PUBLISHBD BY 
 
 E. F. BONAVENTURE & CO., 
 
 No. a BARCLAy STREET, ASTOR HOUSE. 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 1881. 
 s 
 
Copyrighted June 23, 1881, 
 By Geo. Alfieed Townsenu. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 3089.T4P72 
 
 Poetical addresses of Geo. Alfred Townse 
 
 3 1924 022 201 069 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Poem at Dickinson Coli.egb, 1881, . 
 State Press Association Poem, Rochester, 1879, 
 Prologue at Pope's Theatre, St. Louis, 1879, . . 
 Poem at Delaware College Commencement, 1868, 
 Poem at Georgetown, Delaware, 1880, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 5 
 14 
 
 34 
 37 
 34 
 
POEM 
 
 EEAD BEFORE THE LITERARY SOCIETIES OF DICKINSON 
 COLLEGE, CARLISLE, PENNSYLVANIA, 
 
 June 38, 1881. 
 
 A Quaker's son without a "thee" or "thou;" 
 
 A farmer never following a plough; 
 
 A patriot who his vote would not record; 
 
 A soldier never flourishing the sword; 
 
 No college man, who yet a college won: 
 
 Here is the riddle of John Dickinson ! 
 
 Out of the marshes where the rushes sing, (1) 
 He rose like Moses and reproved the king; 
 With silent fears saw Pharaoh's power drown. 
 And for the ransomed wove a better crown: 
 Three States, embellished by his birth or rule, 
 He drew together in a Christian school. 
 Gave it his substance and his name to own, 
 And midst the Quakers lies without a stone. 
 
 Of tougher faith and bred of Cromwell's stock, 
 For Independence rooted like a rock, 
 The ardent Rush, by Scottish doctors bred, 
 Forth to the new world his preceptors led: 
 To Dickinson Charles Nisbet was his boon ; 
 To Princeton, Knox's bantling, Witherspoon. 
 
 A hundred years less four, have drained the sand 
 From yonder m.ountains to the Cumberland, 
 Since Nisbet crossed the bridgeless river's ford. 
 And saw the call he answered from his Lord: 
 In blue battalions stretched against the sky 
 
6 POEMS. 
 
 The rival mountains, thirsty in July; 
 The fife was screaming in the Indian corn, 
 And whiskey flowed on Independence morn; 
 Crude German boors had left their panther traps. 
 And Irish hunters in their squirrel caps 
 Came to the square, beside the old stockade, 
 And some were fighting, some were driving trade. 
 A limekiln yawned before the greystone kirk, 
 Le Tort's clear streamlet set a mill to work, 
 The Hessian barracks peeped above the woods, 
 The Dunker beauties blushed beneath their hoods. 
 And shrinking from the awful master's brain 
 The little college had run up a lane. (2) 
 A hut of brick, a population rude ! 
 Poor Nisbet swooned with sun and solitude. 
 
 His heart recoiled across the cooling seas 
 
 To Doctor Johnson in the Hebrides, 
 
 To David Hume, the friend of pleasant days, 
 
 And Robby Burns reciting o'er his lays, 
 
 With Watt of Greenock rambling by the frith. 
 
 And "Wealth of Nations" talked by Adam Smith: 
 
 " God's will be done," he said, " in my exile !" 
 
 And preached his printed sermon in Carlisle;. 
 
 Slow the result for seventeen years of toil, — 
 The buildings burnt, the country in a broil; 
 Indians, distillers raising new alarms. 
 And Washington and Hamilton in arms; (3) 
 Europe in flames, and beaten kings and laws, 
 And our Republic held to be the cause ; 
 John Adams down and Jefferson in power. 
 The Doctor sighed, " it is the devil's hour !" 
 
 His good wife's Scotch no boy could understand. 
 Nor she and he the language of the land, — 
 The Conestoga and the Conewago, 
 The Conewingo and the Winnebago, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Conedoguinnett, little and the big, 
 
 Convolvoluting with Conecocheague; 
 
 Kiskeminitaa, Rovus Torkillus, (4) 
 
 Kittatiiiny, Tinicum, Kishicoquillas, 
 
 Sinnemahoning, Skunk, Loyalsock, 
 
 Lehigh, Licking, Schuylkill and Yock: 
 
 Of these the Madame mortified to speak; 
 
 The Doctor murmured: "Praise the Lord for Greek !" 
 
 And so he breathed his life into our land, 
 And in our borough waits the last command, 
 Sown like good seed or ere the ground was old. 
 And bringing forth perennial thousand fold. 
 
 Bright as a mirror Susquehanna's breast, 
 A mile of water twixt the East and West; 
 No bridge the farmer found to cross his load, 
 Aijd south to Baltimore the market road. 
 All Maryland without a college lay, (5) 
 And to Carlisle her pupils picked their way : 
 There came one day upon a farmer's wain, 
 A long-chinned boy with eyes of pensive pain, 
 His sandy hair on ample temples rose, 
 Hollow his cheeks and lean his pallid nose. 
 From far Patuxent, where the shad were packed, 
 And dived the wild duck, blue or canvass-backed, 
 The pilgrim jogged, two weeks upon the way — 
 (We do it now in less than half a day.) 
 With silver coin his trunks had solid weight. 
 So worthless were the dollars of the State, 
 And round Carlisle the secret travelled quick — 
 The new arrival was a Catholic: 
 Bred at the mass, by shaven priests confess'd. 
 And Popish relics hidden on his breast ! 
 The little boys stood round him still and pale. 
 And wondered where he kept his horns and tail ! 
 Yet for his vote both college guilds did call, — 
 Belles Lettres boys or Philosophical, — 
 
8 POEMS. 
 
 The hardest students he o'ertook to pass, 
 And from the lower caught the higher class; 
 Twice in two years his homeward pilgrimage, — 
 He walked the distance, for there was no stage, — 
 And Roger Taney, taking his degree, 
 Stammered in church the Valedictory ! 
 
 The story runs of that Commencement day — 
 A black man, Csesar, did the church purvey; 
 One of four thousand Pennsylvania slaves, 
 The last of whom are laid in recent graves. 
 And all smile broad while a trite sentence rings: 
 " Render to Csesar all of Csesar's things !" 
 High in the law the ardent graduate grew, 
 He rose to power, and his country, too; 
 Nor his religion could his merit spite. 
 But all religions barred the black man's right. 
 Till from the bench Judge Taney charged direct ; 
 " Caisar has nothing worthy of respect." 
 Louder than law the cannon's answer is: 
 " Csesar is Coesar till you give him his !" 
 
 Nor yet from far the college drew its fame: 
 From the near hills the greatest pupil came ; 
 Where Stony Batter in the mountain gap 
 Caught rocks that thundered in its naked lap. 
 An Irish trader built a store and inn. 
 And bartered wolf and deer for whiskey skin; 
 His native wife a better future saw 
 Rise for her sons, in piety and law, 
 And pressed her husband till affection won 
 Young James Buchanan place in Dickinson ; 
 Cautious and grave, he framed his purpose hard: 
 Substantial wealth and honors afterward ! 
 No place for play left in his scheme of life. 
 He closed it childless and without a wife. 
 Strict in his tasks, ambitious without heat 
 Courtier by rule and stranger to defeat. 
 
POBMS. 
 
 He served too long the client or the chief 
 
 To know, himself, a resolute belief, 
 
 And trained in party, when the party failed. 
 
 He, the Great Captain, in the danger quailed. 
 
 He looked to law books for a statesman's part, 
 
 O'erlooking laws eternal in the heart. 
 
 And died at Wheatlands pure as frosty rime. 
 
 The most successful failure of his time. 
 
 Take we the lesson without bitterness: 
 
 There is a truer greatness than success ! 
 
 Those small young days let not the school despise ! 
 Out of such straits the great beginnings rise. 
 No more was Wittemberg when Luther came, 
 Nor Sidney-Sussex, giving Cromwell aim ; 
 Watt mended college instruments and pens, — 
 His whole discovery how to " condense," — 
 And King's small college, like a nameless elf. 
 Found Hamilton, a college in himself. 
 Here Thomas Cooper, Judge and refugee, 
 Lectured and thought on trade's economy. 
 Till drawn to teach where rice and cotton speed. 
 He made Free Trade the Carolina creed. 
 Here Robert Grier departed school to teach. 
 And William Wilkins made his maiden speech. 
 And Gibson lies among the village graves 
 His rulings vibrant as magnetic waves. 
 
 Down the main street, like barges on a stream, 
 The Western stages and the jingling team 
 Went many a year, and from her staid grey robe 
 Gazed the old college building of Latrobe. 
 The yellow barracks echoed many a drum, 
 To see successive captains go and come. 
 And travelers carried many and many a mile 
 The wound of bright eyes darted in Carlisle. 
 Such girls, all said, no town could duplicate, 
 Fruit of all races, sparkling or sedate. 
 
10 POEMS. 
 
 Strong Celt or Swiss, soft Welsh or Huguenot, 
 Round, comely German and high-templed Soot ; 
 In spirit pure, of brimming health or mirth. 
 And warmly flavored with our good old earth ; 
 Brown eyes beneath or flax or golden hair. 
 And every pair of eyes a double snare. 
 Full many a graduate the school set free 
 Got from the Minister his last degree, 
 And mighty families still come to seek 
 Their pedigrees on Yellow Breeches Creek. 
 
 Twice in her round old Dickinson stood fast. 
 
 Her shutters closed or rattling to the blast; 
 
 Her imitators on her sources seize, 
 
 Pier teachers harried by her small trustees; 
 
 Dragged to the neighb'ring lobby of the State 
 
 For subsidy or to investigate. 
 
 Her ancient promise seemed to wither quite. 
 
 And in her halls the bat to make his night. 
 
 Then rose a lowly power the builders missed. 
 
 And to her rescue sprang the Methodist: 
 
 On neighb'ring Pipe Creek Strawbridge first of all 
 In the new world had raised their simple hall ; 
 Its walls of log still stood when Emory came 
 To dedicate the college fi-om its shame ; 
 Born on the shore where busy Asbury hid, 
 (What time in war his preaching was forbid,) 
 That still small voice o'erpealed the roaring gun. 
 And echoes brought from Freeborn Garrettson. 
 Like mustard seed the humble sect had sprung. 
 The birds of knowledge in the branches sung. 
 And he, their eagle, scarce his flight begun. 
 The wondrous Durbin perched on Dickinson. (6) 
 
 Child of the West and genius in his teens. 
 
 He burned for learning and he preached for means; 
 
 By fires of pino in midnight cabins read — 
 
 His brain so hungry he forgot his bread; 
 
POEMS. 1 1 
 
 Professor almost ere his school ,he passed. 
 
 He gathered prudence though he gathered fast; 
 
 Cool as the bellows' blast upon the coals 
 
 His eloquence on human minds and souls, 
 
 Producing flame by reason and by awe, 
 
 Working for God \)j human nature's law; 
 
 No Cardinal of Rome more politic. 
 
 No man of honor to his fame more quick. 
 
 He governed softly, but he governed quite, 
 
 And even his prayers shed intellectual light : 
 
 The Senate heard him and the holy tune 
 
 Softened the dubious spirit of Calhoun, C?) 
 
 And o'er his sect refining wishes sprung, 
 
 For preaching men who knew their mother tongue. 
 
 The year he came the railway whistle blew, 
 
 The common schoolhousefirst rose into view. 
 
 And lame Thad Stevens, driving through Carlisle, 
 
 Wore on his face some symptoms of a smile. (8) 
 
 Then rose East College like a social hall, 
 
 The grammar school, the shade trees, and the wall; 
 
 The golden prime came like the swarm of bees. 
 
 With Western force and Northern faculties. 
 
 The individual soul by seeking, found. 
 
 Beyond the Conference's timid bound ; 
 
 The smothered sin that Wesley could not brand 
 
 Showed like a comet o'er the Cumberland, 
 
 And flying slaves chased up the valley roads, 
 
 Stirred human hearts with cruel episodes. 
 
 Who wept, who spoke, who frowned, who interposed, 
 
 On him the bloody mortgage was foreclosed; 
 
 The Shylocks of the Constitution start: 
 
 " Here is the bond ! lay bare your Christian heart!" 
 
 Intolerant the striplings of the code 
 
 Their college teachers threaten or corrode; 
 
 McClintock, tried with negroes at the bar. 
 
 Feels shining o'er him the redemption star, (9) 
 
 While God's evangels marry slaves to breed, 
 
] 2 rOEMS. 
 
 And Wesley's bishops threaten and secede; 
 They split the church he made in Oxford shrine, 
 And cracked the Union on the self -same line : 
 None saw a grizzled farmer pass through town 
 That day the train went South with Captain Brown. 
 
 Then on both mountains flashed the signal lamps, 
 Then in the South flamed the militia camps. 
 Then broke a gun from Charleston, and the wheat 
 Green in the fields, grew ripe with fervent heat; 
 Antietam fords With dying men were choked, 
 O'er Chambersburgh a stolid Satan smoked; 
 A ball was batted through South CoUegp thatch 
 No base-ball player undertook to catch; 
 Codorus stock was o'er the river ferried. 
 And Bosler whiskey in the barnyard buried; 
 Girls in Carlisle cooked biscuit for old beaux 
 Come back to eat in ragged rebel clothes, 
 And almost plaintive did their bugles sound. 
 In Gettysburg's eternal wailing drowned. 
 
 Peace the long valley filled, as down a beach 
 
 Sunlight and wreck after tornado reach; 
 
 The drowned were buried and the saved scarce weep 
 
 In the dread presence of that ocean's sleep; 
 
 But young birds fledged that knew not war nor loss. 
 
 And vines crept thick old lines of States across; 
 
 The restless press, that deals not with the dead, 
 
 Brought daily themes to ease the brooding head, 
 
 And every fear some new advantage soothed. 
 
 And every pain some courteous conduct smoothed; 
 
 Old college domes by foemen were made gilt, — 
 
 Cornell responded unto Vanderbilt, 
 
 And like two neighbors, 'shamed to disagree, 
 
 Dickinson bowed to Washington-and-Lee. 
 
 Freedom has come with self-respect and peace. 
 And equal love of learning and increase. 
 Happy the man whose imprint here is laid. 
 
POEMS. 13 
 
 Like bridegroom's kiss upon the perfect maid, 
 And down the ages of his country's art 
 His image lingers in her virgin heart! 
 Morning of freedom and of science, too. 
 His head in light, his feet in silver dew, 
 He feels like Adam in the garden planned, 
 With not a tree forbidden to his hand ! 
 
 The good old air-gun Priestley left behind 
 
 Killed all the ghosts that walked the ancient mind; (10) 
 
 Like boys that swim and ope their eyes below. 
 
 He saw the oxygen in which we flow; 
 
 As Franklin's boys turn the electric wheel 
 
 And see and hear and telegraph and feel: 
 
 These are the cradle and the baby's toy, 
 
 Scarce laid aside, to prove the world a boy. 
 
 Mankind is new; we live ere Moses stood, 
 
 When everything God made was rated good. 
 
 The shams of time are challenged by the lark, 
 
 Rising afield and fearless calling "Hark !" 
 
 So, fresh as nature, in a land all free. 
 
 Let us go pluck from the forbidden tree ! 
 
 NOTES TO DICKINSON COLLEGE POEM. 
 
 1. John Dickinson wrote tlie Farmer's Letters at liia liouse in the marshes 
 of Jones's Creek, near Dover, Delaware, 1768. 
 
 2. The original college at Dickinson was a small brick building in an 
 alley. 
 
 3. The army to put down the whiskey insurrection assembled at Carlisle. 
 
 4. Rev. Reorus Torkillus. the first Swedish clergyman in America, died 
 on the Brandywine, in 1643, one of the brooks of which once bore his 
 name. 
 
 5. St. John's College, Annapolis, appears not to have been in operation 
 when Judge Taney attended Dickinson. 
 
 6. Dr. Durbin was President of Dickinson College from the Methodist 
 accession, 1834 to 1845. He was educated in Ohio. 
 
 7. Calhoun gave his casting vote in the Senate, as Vice-President, against 
 younjg Durbin for Chaplain, nut- the next year voted for him. 
 
 8. Thaddeus Stevens the bulwark of the public school law of Pennsyl- 
 vania, lived at Gettysburgh in 1834, twenty-five miles south of Carlisle. 
 
 ' 9. Professor John McClintock was tried for alleged obstruction of the 
 Fugitive Slave Law, in 1848, on a capital charge, at Carlisle, wiih twenty 
 negroes. 
 10. Dr. Priestly's philosophical apparatus is at Dickinson College. 
 
POEM 
 
 READ BEFOEE THE NEW YORK STATE PRESS ASSOCIA- 
 TION, AT ROCHESTER, 
 
 June 17, 1879. 
 
 Columbus seeing through the lambent air 
 The world he imaged basking virgin there, 
 Felt not the blushes youthful cheeks that tint, 
 To see their compositions first in print: 
 How large, how bold, how wonderful, how terse! 
 And what a printer that could set such verse! 
 Sure all have seen it, from our sweetheart down, 
 And dare we, so denoted, walk the town ? 
 
 Still do we print, still thrilling o'er the boon. 
 Like fondness lasting after honeymoon. 
 Until we see a road on either hand 
 Open before us and to Heaven expand : 
 One wide and dusty, crowded by the herd. 
 The other travelled by the singing bird ; 
 One like a river by a navy shook. 
 The other like a pathway up a brook ; 
 One endless, shelterless, contentious, rude, 
 The other green, with shade and solitude ; 
 Still do they seem not far apart to tend, 
 And glide together ere they reach the end, — 
 One is The Press, try that ! It must ensure 
 A crossing over into literature! 
 
 Yes, for a while ride on the engine there. 
 Look at the world and for repose prepare; 
 All speed, all noises, all adventures run, 
 Then cut across and bathe in Helicon! 
 
POEMS. 15 
 
 Alas! They border, but a wall divides, 
 Like that which keeps the Polder from the tides; 
 Leap if you will from this high speeding train; 
 Nothing prevents, yet who will risk the pain ? 
 Slaves of the speed and spirits of the blast, 
 Onward we rush, the laneway thundering past ; 
 And one or two leap down and heal their scars, 
 Like one-eyed Camoens writing after wars. 
 Or Hildreth, shaking off the ills he had, 
 Makes half a fame and dies amongst the mad. 
 
 They on the watch must not sit down and dream ; 
 
 This is no age of poets, but of steam ; 
 
 So be it : better than pursuing rhyme«. 
 
 Let us be cheerful spirits of the times. 
 
 And make a world so noble in advance. 
 
 Poets shall sing it in our decadence! 
 
 Fierce is the Press, — a beast before a crowd. 
 Shaking his cage and sometimes smelling loud. 
 Type of the cruel in its worst and least. 
 But in its highest king of every beast. 
 Tyrants and priests, old printer Faust deposed, 
 Had with the devil an agreement closed ; 
 And ever since a little " devil " cheats 
 All printers and too many Marguerites. 
 
 Printers there were to break the tyrants in, — 
 
 Defoe the pilloried and cart-whipped Prynne, — 
 
 But never caitiffs got their fullest dues 
 
 Till Franklin brought the paper and the news. 
 
 Nothing he was fastidious folks respect. 
 
 Not of the cultured, not of the elect ; 
 
 As an apprentice, of the wayward stamp, 
 
 And as a journeyman, a journeying tramp. 
 
 Sticking his type, he " stuck " his patrons most. 
 
 And found a wife discovering a host ; 
 
 The Quaker Levite learned discretion when 
 
16 POEMS. 
 
 He proved the Press was subtler than the Penn; 
 
 Yet with organic mind he ever built 
 
 Fast as he overthrew in earnest tilt, 
 
 And to his city was a neighbor quite, 
 
 And ruled the press and flew his impious kite. 
 
 Till lightning faltered like a captive down 
 
 And passed divinity from cloud and crown. 
 
 So stepped the newsman to the hero's side — 
 
 None other can with Washington divide ; — 
 
 Still as a newsman came his whole reward, 
 
 The cannon said it on Jion Homme Richard, 
 
 When Captain Jones bore down to the attack 
 
 And read for prayers poor Richard's Almanac. 
 
 Faithful he was and grateful to his land, 
 
 No torch but light and knowledge in his hand. 
 
 Yet science wooed the bad Marat as well. 
 
 Who made a journal and the world a hell. 
 
 And liberty a wanton Wilkes could claim, 
 
 Who gave to freedom's murderer a name. 
 
 These on their feelings and their hatreds went, 
 
 Nor ink nor blood their vanity content ; 
 
 Knowledge and power made mightier Franklin mild. 
 
 And the Bohemian governed like a child. 
 
 When Franklin's press the politicians took 
 
 And played ambition with the wizard book. 
 
 Faction and hate inflamed them one by one — 
 
 Adams and Hamilton and Jefferson. 
 
 More imputative then their hirelings were, — 
 
 Freneau or Fenno, Bache or Callender, — 
 
 They forged it chains or turned it naked loose 
 
 To do a caitiff's or an outlaw's use. 
 
 Till rising commerce gave it her caress, 
 
 And Information only winged the press. 
 
 From Burr's great trial see shy Irving write — 
 
 First correspondent in a style polite — 
 
 And there at Richmond, round with statesmen girt, 
 
 Sketcher and champion, rose the gracious Wirt ; 
 
POEMS. 17 
 
 These and their fellows rising stars address, 
 And hero-worship blinded yet the press; 
 Greeley and Prentice only Clay could see, 
 And Blair for Jackson praise the gallows tree. 
 
 There was a satyr in Calhoun's supjjort. 
 
 Like crouching Brutus at the Tarquin's Court, 
 
 In whose squint eye the rising century shone 
 
 With "golden exhalations of the dawn;" 
 
 Restive at masters who themselves adored, 
 
 Hungry he went his paltry pay to hoard ; 
 
 Down in a cellar his imprint began. 
 
 Himself at once the master and the man. 
 
 Scorned, spit upon, and buffeted, he drew 
 
 His pound of flesh like the retaliant Jew, 
 
 But like a Robin Hood he killed the buck 
 
 To feed the poor and give the million suck. 
 
 Aroused the age to challenge and to know 
 
 And on the sham and spoilsman shot his bow; 
 
 Grasped in his hands the lightning Franklin wooed 
 
 And Morse and Henry brought to servitude. 
 
 To chase the moment to its last recess 
 
 And wire the constellations to the press. 
 
 The world of physics only, Bennett saw, 
 
 And not the world of morals and of law, 
 
 Yet human nature was the heir at last. 
 
 And Faith and Science, impotent, aghast, 
 
 Saw Bennett's wealth and a reporter's scent 
 
 Retrieve the dead and track a continent. 
 
 Not in rich cities only live the men 
 
 Whose strength of purpose glorifies the pen : 
 
 When Pharaoh trembled lest his slaves might go, 
 
 And all his placemen sought our overthrow, 
 
 In the wild hills of Eastern Tennessee — 
 
 Of all rebellion's citadel the key — . 
 
 One man arose no Gesler could compel, 
 
 And William Brownlow stood like William Tell. 
 
18 POEMS. 
 
 Coarse was his phrase, but barbed with loyal wit, 
 
 Not for the style but the effect he writ ; 
 
 They hanged his readers, but confessed his art — 
 
 Plain preacher of the instincts of the heart — 
 
 And drove him forth, palsied in all but will. 
 
 Abashed to answer and afraid to kill. 
 
 Yet where he sowed grain came to sheaf and shock, 
 
 His spirit stood on Chickamauga rock ; 
 
 On Lookout Mountain waved the holy flag 
 
 And Chattanooga put an end to Bragg ; 
 
 By Jackson's name in every Union hut 
 
 Stand Brownlow, Johnson, Houston, Farragut. 
 
 With all the faults of women yet to bless, 
 
 What noble lovers ever had the Press ! 
 
 Two gallant Hamiltons, an age apart. 
 
 Stood by its side in Court with mind and heart, — 
 
 The last, to blot the dogma from our lore, 
 
 " The more the truth the libel more and more." 
 
 Called to account for truths himself had hurled, 
 
 A ruined gamester struck him from the world ; 
 
 But pleading yet at yon supremest bar, 
 
 His fame flows down like a directing star. 
 
 So his last battle this fair God to free, 
 Poured out his blood, light-horseman Harry Lee, 
 And gave the Press his heart's intensest throb. 
 And fell like Lovejoy, martyred by the mob. 
 
 Next in the field, sagacious and alone. 
 
 His press and type in the Ohio thrown, 
 
 Gamaliel Bailey sent a radiant bomb 
 
 Straight in the Capitol by " Uncle Tom." 
 
 There sat the black, like Banquo's ghost, unbid ; 
 
 A woman's pen had raised Pandora's lid ; 
 
 Her simple tale through weekly issues crept. 
 
 But made a deluge when its readers wept ; 
 
 In various tongues through millions made its plea, 
 
 Who held their Kings to stern neutrality. 
 
POEMS. 19 
 
 From France our century drew its liberal glow, 
 
 And Jefferson his premiss from Rousseau ; 
 
 So France from us the daily press's sway, 
 
 Nor Bonaparte nor Bourbon could dismay ; 
 
 The Bishops said the news was given too quick — 
 
 Stale publications were more politic ; 
 
 And five days late, the foreign King decreed, 
 
 After the issue, might the people read. 
 
 Five hundred francs the fine whoever drew 
 
 Personal sketches or an interview. 
 
 Amongst the first to pay the printer's debt, 
 
 Our special correspondent Lafayette ; 
 
 Beranger charmed the stones to barricades ; 
 
 Then armed the publishers and o'er the heads 
 
 Of storming gens d^armes showered their journals 
 
 down, 
 Covered by laws integral as the crown. 
 France sprang to light, and all her dangers past. 
 Clasps hands with us. Republican at last ; 
 And, never since, in that or kindred nations, 
 The press has favored Bourbon restorations. 
 
 So when Napoleon fell in his own snare. 
 And Bismarck rode him in the Sedan chair ; 
 When dark Bazaine was tangled in the plot. 
 And feared, like Maximillian, to be shot. 
 It was old Thiers, of the press cadet, 
 Discharged the foreigner and paid the debt. 
 Raised the Republic to its high intent 
 And won that best of titles. President. 
 
 Ere moves the savage to his last frontiers, 
 The pressman enters with the pioneers. 
 The wandering Chootaws to the river flock 
 Where Brooklyn's printer rows for Little Rock ; 
 And give him welcome before many hours 
 To strew his petals in their land of flowers. 
 Where Canby fled before the mad attack, 
 
20 POEMS. 
 
 The correspondent talks with Captain Jack, 
 Stretches his wires through boundaries of the Khan, 
 And prints his English journal in Japan. 
 When blown from every purlieu of the State, 
 The outlaws rallied on the Golden Gate, 
 Shore youthful freedom of her vestal locks 
 And raped the jewel of the ballot-box ; 
 Nothing remained twixt anarchy and war. 
 Except the engine and the editor. 
 Nerved to his labor by the State's distress, 
 James King-of- William led the printing press ; 
 Named public robbers and their past retold. 
 Stripped the new feathers from the kites of old ; 
 Pointed to judge or jury bold and brief — 
 "This was a forger and there sits a thief." 
 Thus individualizing, timid men 
 Rallied behind the flashing of his pen. 
 Till at his murder broke the public trance 
 And all of government was Vigilance. 
 An army rose, a gallows filled the view, 
 Some dangled there and the survivors flew ; 
 And one, long after, mindful of James King, 
 Enjoined his fellow villains of The Ring, 
 Because a tiger nothing could repress 
 Lay slumbering in the shadow of the press. 
 
 By Lincoln's side, directing fleets of war, 
 
 Sat Gideon Welles, the country editor. 
 
 Carl Schurz, the correspondent, serves the State 
 
 In arms, diplomacy or in debate ; 
 
 As good a fencer as in student days. 
 
 When German freedom gladdened in his praise. 
 
 When Civil War was done and curbed the steed. 
 And the victorious soldier claimed his meed ; 
 And like a raven the wild waste above 
 Sped every bird of venture but the dove ; 
 In strong compassion, premature but true. 
 
POEMS. 21 
 
 The good old Greeley launched his log canoe, 
 
 Hoisted his aged journal for a sail, 
 
 And pointed human kindness to the gale. 
 
 Dark were the heavens and the voyage short. 
 
 Scuttled his boat and broke his genial heart ; 
 
 But where he sank, at every gentle swell 
 
 Tolls on the waters a melodious bell — 
 
 Drowned when the wind of discord brethren hear, 
 
 But in the truce of hate it brings a tear. 
 
 Hear it, all brethren of his pleasant craft, 
 
 While down the days your paper boats are waft ! 
 
 Hear North and South, the bell's resurgent plea — 
 
 " Forgiveness, justice, union, liberty ! " 
 
 Alas! nor man, nor press is wholly free, 
 And oft, when free, self-sold to slavery — 
 Slave of its egotism, avarice, lust, 
 To its redemption and its soul unjust; 
 Presuming powers, nor delegate, nor lent, 
 And factious to a generous government. 
 
 When silly Phaeton drove Apollo's car 
 And fell from Heaven like a shooting star, 
 His lofty station brought no more distress 
 Than when an ass conducts the printing press. 
 Then shine his vices, nature to abhor. 
 Like youthful Nero's made the Emperor; 
 His self-esteem portentous as eclipse, 
 His independence false to fellowships, 
 His province fear, his glory to assail, 
 His passion office and his art blackmail. 
 His gallantry to drag a woman down 
 Or stone a ruler when he come to town. 
 Poor dupe! himself upon the cross he nails. 
 For him the gall and vinegar avails. 
 His fangless fury makes no other smart 
 Than stings the gloating vulture in his heart. 
 
22 pomis. 
 
 Power sofiens large men and inflates the small; 
 The Press's power is the toil of all — 
 The people's wealth, the freedom soldiers won, 
 Public opinion, liberal as the sun, 
 Surround a modest Press with hosts in steel. 
 As 'twere the Lady of the Commonweal. 
 Who plays the traitor to such confidence. 
 Usurping rights or swaggering with pretence, 
 Is like yon maniac on the prison isle, 
 Noisy but dead, inflamed but imbecile. 
 
 Two powers exist to guide the sneer, the mob — 
 One is the demagogue and one the snob: 
 " Who is he ?" both with equal malice cry; 
 "What can he do ?" the earnest heart's reply. 
 "Shakespeare," says Snob, "those plays can scarcely 
 
 claim; 
 Another man, no doubt, of the same name, 
 Bacon, or Greens, or one of the weviewers, — 
 Not that obscure play-fellow from the sewers." 
 As if a Shakespeare spent his time on " swells," 
 Or Edison, who cast yon echo's bells. 
 And peddling papers, waiting on a switch, 
 Conceived two messages could play the witch 
 And sightless pass; his humble state despite 
 God made a circuit with him in the night — 
 The newsboy wired to Moses, " Here's your Light ! " 
 
 In great occasion must your power lie, 
 Or mere sensation is your hue-and-cry. 
 Spread not a net to catch a passing sprat, 
 Nor forge a thunderbolt to kill a gnat ! 
 Mere rhetoric is not our press's grist — 
 Boswell, not Johnson, is the journalist. 
 Sill in your ear one half the talent is, 
 And style in news too often is but fizz. 
 Humor is wholesome, yet extremely rare; 
 Forced humor is the drivel of despair; 
 
POEMS. 23 
 
 Nothing conceived in malice makes a laugh, 
 Nor lifts a fool above his paragraph. 
 Chase not your rival daily like a flea, 
 Lest folks perceive you bite for jealousy; 
 Never to name him equally refuse. 
 For both of you are smaller than your news. 
 
 Our quarrels matter not; our spiteful words 
 Are but the harsher tones of mocking birds; 
 Still the sweet medley gladdens all the air. 
 And every songster brings his tuneful share. 
 
 The news is statesmanship. He who informs 
 
 To-morrow's farmers of the signs of storms, 
 
 Governed no more when from o'trhanging crags 
 
 He guided battle by his signal flags, 
 
 Or from beleagured cities, like a moon 
 
 Rose and passed over in his pale balloon. 
 
 The hollow ocean, deaf-for many a year, 
 
 Lies with quick nerves like an attentive ear. 
 
 And barbarous states die without epitaph, 
 
 Except the over-murmuring telegraph. 
 
 We too are doomed like poles that hold the wires 
 
 To be supplanted when our use expires. 
 
 Our names to perish from the vaults of sound 
 
 And all we writ unindexed and unf ound ; 
 
 In unconsulted dust the mirror page 
 
 Where came and went the image of our age. 
 
 Debarred from fame, we in our little hour 
 
 Should feel that nothing lasts but Moral power. 
 
 Ceasing to shine with strong and separate ray. 
 
 Yet in yon silver-gleaming nebulae 
 
 The good, the brave, the gracious we have done, 
 
 Will belt the heavens as with glory sown. 
 
 Then may we know immortal is our craft, 
 
 And every idle word is phonographed; 
 
 Cast in the Ether, kept till time is done, 
 
 And paged in flaming tissues of the sun. 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE OPENING OP POPE'S NEW THEATRE, 
 ST. LOUIS, MO., 
 
 (Formerly a Unitarian Churcli), Sept. 33, 1879. 
 
 Within these walls a teacher miglit impart 
 The rise and progress of dramatic art, 
 Since Thespis, with one actor and a choir, 
 To Shakespeare and his myriad world entire: 
 Here by the hour the priest performed the show 
 To passive singers and the organ slow, — 
 A second actor ^schylus allows. 
 And lo ! the church becomes a social house. 
 
 So gods draw down as men in culture rise, 
 Nor reverenced less than in the heathen skies. 
 Watching the play where once a church had been, 
 The gentle Lincoln made the closing scene, 
 And on his face the smile the actor brings, 
 Passed through the curtain to the King of kings. 
 
 He to whom all for matchless art defer, 
 Learned human nature in the theatre, 
 Came to the door at some good patron's beck. 
 And held a horse, perhaps to get a check; 
 Peeping within, upon his soul was born 
 Imagination like a tropic morn ; 
 Unfettered by the laws a Bacon knew. 
 Or social bonds a courtier Sydney drew; 
 His mind was wanton as a lover's dream, 
 And ventured, heedless, into every theme; 
 
PROLOGUE. 25 
 
 The age scarce knew him till his end had come, 
 Cut off in drinking with a writing chum. 
 Unspoiled by fame, down after centuries ran 
 The lengthening shadow of a Natural Man ! 
 
 Here in the West let Nature breed again. 
 
 Far from the cities of dependent men, 
 
 And like your river in its vast descent. 
 
 Drain all the genius of our continent ! 
 
 From native springs with confidence commence. 
 
 In native life discover excellence. 
 
 And down the ages bear in swelling rhyme 
 
 The heroes of the people and the clime. 
 
 Since good Marquette roved down your grand canal. 
 
 Or scared the wolves DeSoto and LaSalle, 
 
 And rose St. Louis in the bison's track. 
 
 To be the refuge of a Pontiac ! 
 
 Repeat the echoes, plaintive in the eve, 
 
 Of chapel bells o'er old Saint Genevieve, 
 
 Or cannon heralding the empire won 
 
 Napoleon pawned to pilot Livingston ! 
 
 Show dying Boone from debt and lawyers free. 
 
 Or lonely Pike stampeding Santa Fe ! 
 
 With equal art the fading outlines fill 
 
 Of strong old Benton and young Bonneville ! 
 
 And if the Wars of Roses need perfume. 
 
 Strew poesy on Price or Lyon's tomb ; 
 
 Paint Captain Grant, by fortune all forsook. 
 
 Seeking a loan from Captain Marmaduke, 
 
 Then 'round the world, with Princes making free, 
 
 Once more Ulysses on an Odyssey. 
 
 Yet deeper than dramatic action run 
 The moral deeds men of the West have done: 
 Beyond himself, though he all things would dare. 
 Sped on the work of the young, gallant Blair; 
 That courtship every stage effect exceeds 
 
26 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Fair Mississippi had from Captain Eads, 
 
 When, bridging here and jettying further south, 
 
 He spanned her waist and squeezed her at the mouth. 
 
 Speed well the modern drama's best prepense, 
 To soften man and chasten violence ! 
 The bloody combats of old kings revise 
 To household scenes and acts of sacrifice, 
 Till what the sermon says the play may make. 
 And even in church the hearers keep awake. 
 When Richelieu broke the feudal barons down, 
 Corneille appeared to educate the town ; 
 When o'er United Britain James arose 
 Shakespeare was heard the kingdom to compose: 
 So be it here, when through one country free, 
 " TJn vexed the Mississippi finds the sea !" 
 Descend, ye Muses, from the pitying skies. 
 And may our stage disarm and civilize. 
 Till o'er Missouri women safely walk. 
 Neighbors debate and strangers fearless talk. 
 Here may the merchant at the close of day 
 Forget his nerves and bless the genial play ! 
 May lovers nearer grow at evening's hush, 
 And wives and maidens hear without a blush. 
 And all the air so pure that in the brain 
 We almost hear the bells of church again ! 
 
POEM 
 
 READ BEFORB DELAWARE COLLEGE, NEWARK, DELAWARE, 
 Commencement, 1868. 
 
 A hundred years, less six, has White Clay run 
 
 Toward deep Christina, turgid in the sun. 
 
 Since from Gray's Hill the General through his glass 
 
 His thread-bare army saw through Newark pass ; 
 
 Its straggling villagers their nervous chins 
 
 Poised on the windows of the shops and inns, 
 
 And much they hoped if battle he must seek, 
 
 Farther he'd go and choose the Red Clay creek. 
 
 The Red Clay country pleased him for a fight ; 
 
 From Iron Hill he marked it by daylight ; 
 
 The Stanton folks, the Newport people scattered, 
 
 Expecting, both, their hip-roofs to be battered ; 
 
 But General Washington advanced his line 
 
 Far north as Chadd's Ford on the Brandy wine. 
 
 And after all this waiting and retreating. 
 
 Sir William gave him an effectual beating. 
 
 We've learned the lesson this Commencement dawn ; 
 
 Defeat's inglorious tempted farther on ! 
 
 This spot was picked to check the foe's ad\'ance, — 
 
 'Tis nearest to his lines. Sir Ignorance ! 
 
 Here on these classic stones again to thrive, 
 
 We seek our gracious College to revive. 
 
 To plant its standard drooping since lang syne. 
 
 To fight the action out upon this line, 
 
 And keep at heart, though northward we might roam, 
 
 The snugger precept : " Educate at home ! " 
 
 Not widest empires lure the reverend most : 
 The wisest Magi sought small Judah's coast. 
 
28 POEM. 
 
 The Russian Czar to modest Holland sped, 
 
 To little Weimer, Schiller, Gcethe fled. 
 
 Famed Heidelberg in narrow Badfn see, 
 
 And cramped Bologna fostered Italy. 
 
 Shut in the softest verdure of the East, 
 
 Our Delawarean nook, although the least. 
 
 Has soil enough for education's seeds. 
 
 And schools and students are what most she needs. 
 
 No sign we want to tell us when we roam : 
 
 " The schoolmaster has been away from home ; " 
 
 For, — if we say it need there be a blush ? — 
 
 (rood boys, vinlike good wine, need most the bush. 
 
 The century-flower has blossomed pleasantly 
 Above the tiles of yon Academy, 
 Which from the peaceful Penns derived its lease, 
 And six score years has taught the arts of peace. 
 In Seventy-six its boys marched with the " Blues," 
 The girls behind them stitched their soldier's shoes, - 
 " Delightful task ! to mend the tender boot. 
 And teach the young idea how to shoot." 
 
 Here labored long those quiet Scottish Chiefs, 
 Holding for God His precions souls as fiefs, 
 McDowell, Ewing, Allison, and more. 
 Whose gentle influence filled this Eastern shore, 
 And humanized its homes from Chester creek, 
 Far as the lonely capes of Chesapeake. 
 
 In greenest graveyards sleep those pilgrim sires, 
 By Swedisli chapels or by English spires. 
 By country kirks wrapt soft in dews or mists, 
 Or lulled to peace by singing Methodists; 
 Tranquil their lives, not restless, nothing grand. 
 But melted in the epic of the land. 
 Part of the nation strong and vindicated, 
 Pai-t of the school they cherished and created, 
 Part of the light and culture which endure. 
 
POEM. 29 
 
 The dawning arts and strengthening literatuic, 
 The social life, which seeks high thoughts for food, 
 And bulwarks of our pride of neighborhood. 
 
 Scarce fifty years had scattered Freedom's foes, 
 When, by the school, our pleasant college rose ; 
 Loud spoke its bell — what melody did swing it 
 Whene'er the Janitor would let us ring it ! 
 A score of years or more came, for its crack, 
 Fat boys from Cecil, lean from Accomac, 
 Pale boys from cities, from the country pink. 
 Queer boys from Duck and Appoquinimink, 
 Boys raised on Iron Hill, — real mountaineers, — 
 On shaddy Sassafras, oystery Tangiers. 
 From whate'er neck, or sound, or manor passengers. 
 They all stole pears and apples down at Hossenger's. 
 
 My hasty inuse, rouse up and once more show 
 
 The scenes in Newark twenty years ago ! 
 
 The morning prayer, the bell's boom strong and sweet, 
 
 Swung down the one aisle of the village street, 
 
 '"Day-scholars" hurrying on foot, in gigs, 
 
 Professors smoothing out their hairs — or wigs, — 
 
 The shy new student who can eat no pittance. 
 
 Mocked by the old boy spending his remittance; 
 
 That- marvel of all Freshmen in their turn. 
 
 The one queer boy who came to school to learn; 
 
 That other wonder, whom the mass insist 
 
 To be, sans peur, the College humorist : 
 
 An idle, jolly, impecuhious elf, 
 
 Who jests on everything, — except himself ; 
 
 And, greater than all favorites of renown. 
 
 The boy whose pretty sister lives in town ; 
 
 In all his woes rose dozens of redressers. 
 
 He was a favorite, — even with professors. 
 
 At Summer noon the lanes and fields are seen, 
 To fill with urchins hastening to " The Green." 
 
30 POBM. 
 
 Proud swimmer he, whose shy probation o'er, 
 
 Disdains less fathoms than the " Sycamore," 
 
 Or nudis verbis whitely stands revealed 
 
 Poised on the " Deep Rocks " — as he calls it " peeled," — 
 
 And palms clasped d la mode, head foremost goes 
 
 To fetch up stones, while small boys tie his clothes. 
 
 Meantime the lovelorn student roams behind, 
 And carves his torment on the beech tree rind, 
 And to the dear initials makes his moan — 
 A bolder student slily adds his own. 
 
 Our fine girl then, nor skater was, nor sailor ; 
 
 Therefore her children in our days are frailer ; 
 
 Let us admit we both did something err : 
 
 Ungallant she to Nature, we to her. 
 
 She never wrote in ice her epigram. 
 
 Cutting " High IJjitch " on Dean's or Curtis' dam. 
 
 Nor down the Roseville rapids showed her skill, boys, 
 
 Risking a flogging for it from the mill-boys. 
 
 She never wished the Northern hills to climb 
 
 Which on our border lean their ribs of grime. 
 
 And strangle streams which hurl more mill wheel's 
 
 arms, 
 And bathe more sheep, and beautify more farms, — 
 That royal road, the North, she did not dare. 
 Like our wild hearts pent up in Delaware, 
 And wondering what beyond those hill-tops lay 
 When trudging toward them on a Saturday. 
 Not in that fashion did our sweetheart journey, 
 But only with a power of attorney, 
 Two trunks, a muff, a bridesmaid, and a fan, 
 She sacrificed the scenery for the man. 
 
 'Twas still her triumph when Commencement came 
 And tallow candles made the College flame ; 
 For her alone the Athenajums speak, 
 The Delta Phians don their badge of Greek; 
 
POEM. 31 
 
 For her, for nothing less, do both submit 
 
 To wear a coat cut in the nether pit, 
 
 And hear the pert Academicians cry, 
 
 In chorus : " When the Swallows Homeward Fly." 
 
 Nothing between a boy and book can slip. 
 Like the soft vision of an eye and lip, 
 And let us stand upon it if we fight there, 
 Nothing has more excuse or much more right there. 
 
 Much more, if time and art, like memory, held. 
 
 Might we recover from this cloister eld. 
 
 Rise up, ye tutors, sacrificed for us : 
 
 Our lack of love, our natures boisterous, — 
 
 Whose blood and tears we drew and never knew it. 
 
 Ah ! the perversity ! Could we undo it ! 
 
 Are boys to boys more generous than men ? 
 Do we desire our boyhood back again ? 
 Is it the bright, the gallant, roseate time ? 
 "Yea," say the Poets, in the parrot rhyme; 
 All college orators insist upon it. 
 Decrying manhood 'ere they have begun it ; 
 Candor compels a more prosaic ruling : 
 Much of the talk on boyhood joys is puling !" 
 The strong young savage, moving on his muscle, 
 Ready to rob an orchard, try a tussle. 
 Of everlasting restlessness pursuant. 
 Mocking his tutor, selfish, hooking truant. 
 Of ravenous appetite, ungrateful, vain. 
 His keenest sense of pleasure, giving pain,— 
 What man would ask to be a boy again ? 
 Who would resign the calm and chastened bliss. 
 The fireside faith, sealed in his goodwife's kiss, 
 The measured duties of the father, neighbor. 
 And sense of manhood dignified by labor. 
 To roam again an urchin by the creek. 
 And learn to swear about a shinny stick ? 
 
32 POEM. 
 
 Of all the frauds which schools from schoolmen ape 
 None is more empty than the college " scrape." 
 Books have been made on scrapes, and maidens tell 
 
 them, 
 Sad, for their sex, that no such larks befel them ; 
 The college scrape, as I remember it. 
 Was ruffianism in the mask of wit. 
 Played on a tutor's feelings, a child's terror, 
 A strong boy's dignity or weak boy's error : 
 To tip t\\fi bell up and freeze water in it. 
 Or by a hidden cord all night to din it ; 
 To call the poor, pinched tutor but a " flat," 
 And yell from hiding places : " what a hat !" 
 A horse to whitewash, most superb of all ! — 
 To tie the grass that wayfarers might fall, 
 Let down the farmer's bars, write terms of spite 
 By darkness, for the town to read by light. 
 
 Our sculptor, Crawford, in a noble mood 
 
 A subject chose from boyhood's habitude : 
 
 A little spaniel, terrified and worn. 
 
 Its fleeces dabbled and its white feet torn, 
 
 Climbs spent, beseeching, to one gentle breast, — 
 
 The one brave boy humane among the rest, — 
 
 Who cuts the kettle which had driven it wild, 
 
 And strokes it, as a father soothes his child. 
 
 Worthy this statue for our halls of state, — 
 
 A boy indignant and considerate ! 
 
 For, if the boy were Father of the man. 
 
 As the trite line of some old poet ran. 
 
 Apt might the boy be to affix a can 
 
 Behind his sire and chase him with a clan. 
 
 The sports of schools have now a higher fame 
 With base ball clubs where women watch the game, 
 While tidy barge-crews down the rivers spin 
 And play is beautified by discipline. 
 
POEM. 33 
 
 To these high joys of the Curriculum, 
 
 Must meaner " larks " and older " scrapes " succumb ; 
 
 For, 'tis the student gives the school address, 
 
 His best diploma is his manliness : 
 
 The sense of honor seldom can be taught. 
 
 Lost it may be or not in vain be sought ; 
 
 It is that breath of good men which survives, 
 
 The floating aroma of fragrant lives. 
 
 The gentler thoughts superior souls dispense. 
 
 And fruit of every noble influence. 
 
 " Surely,'' says one, " our poet's a free lance ; 
 
 The boys are with us : give the boys a chance !'' 
 
 No ! these young students who would build again 
 
 Our crumbled ramparts are not boys — but men; 
 
 The boys in frolic, some twelve years or more 
 
 Departed, locked this venerable door, (1) 
 
 A newer, better generation comes. 
 
 Out of the roll of Freedom's victor-drums, 
 
 A race of boys made men by manlier walk, 
 
 By gentler thinking and by truer talk, 
 
 On darkened latitudes no more intent. 
 
 But, like a sailor, in the firmament 
 
 Searching for lamps, and midst them, strong and far, 
 
 Shines down the magic of the Northen Star. 
 
 Retire then men, who puerile have grown ; 
 Be men for them, ye boys of better date, 
 And let this College be the corner-stone 
 Of a humane and reawakened State ! 
 
 KOTE TO DELAWARE COLLEGE POEM. 
 
 1. Newark Academy was a continuation of tlie second classical scliool in 
 Pennsyivania, started, at New London by Dr. Aiison, 1740. He was tlie 
 greatest teacher of Coioniai Pennsylvania. Delaware College was appended 
 to the Academy in 18S3. Schools have been on that foundation since 1749. 
 About 1853 a tragedy at the College closed It for several years. 
 
C^SAR RODNEY'S FOURTH OF JULY, 
 
 1776. 
 
 READ BY MR. TOWNSEND AT HIS BIRTH-PLACE, GEORGETOWN, 
 SUSSEX COUNTY, DELAWARE, JULY 4, 1880. 
 
 Lean and quaint and fond of living, 
 
 Half his bright face patched in green, 
 Caesar Rodney sat in Congress 
 
 On Committee and routine ; 
 Forty-six in years and spirits, 
 
 Death and he were one in style; 
 For a cancer on his visage 
 
 Checked the spreading of his smile. 
 
 In his hand is laid a packet, 
 
 Marked from " Sussex, Delaware," 
 Signed by Colonel Doctor Haslet, 
 
 Of the camp on Dover Square: 
 " General, there are Tory risings 
 
 In the swamps of Pocomoke, 
 And the pirate fleet of Dunmore 
 
 Anchors in the Nanticoke ! 
 
 " Barclay Townsend threatens Lewes 
 
 With his Forresters below; 
 In the North the Kentish Rebels 
 
 Muster under Cheney Clowe; 
 At his store on Indian River 
 
 Thomas Robinson, as free, 
 Damns the Continental Congress, 
 
 And is selling British tea. 
 
C'^SAM ROBNBT'S FOURTH OF JULY. 35 
 
 " Colonel Dagworthy is feeble; 
 
 Henry Fisher is too rash ; 
 Only thou of temperate courage, 
 
 Can the wide revolt abash !" 
 Then said John McKean to Rodney : 
 
 " Stay thou here for larger things, 
 While our Pennsylvania rifles 
 
 Slay those minions of the King's." 
 
 " Stay thou here," John Dickinson said, 
 
 " Lest high treason bad men forge, 
 And the colonies dissever 
 
 From their master, gracious George !" 
 " Nay, but go," George Read protested, — 
 
 " Known and trusted always there, 
 'Tis not meet another province 
 
 March its arms in Delaware !" 
 
 Level spread the plains of Sussex 
 
 To Henlopen's hummocks white. 
 Where the watchful pilots darken 
 
 In the tower the British light; 
 And the Moebuck chased our vessels 
 
 From Cape May on False Cape hard. 
 Where they floated deep and foxy. 
 
 Grounded bowspirit, beam and yard, (l) 
 
 Fierce around the ancient Court House 
 
 Raged the ignorant debate; 
 Wildly listened forest people 
 
 To the hidden things of state: 
 How the Yankee meant to draft them 
 
 His psalm-singing hosts among, 
 And to battle-fields to waft them, 
 
 Either to be shot or hung; 
 
 How the proud Virginia planters 
 Meant to make their children slaves. 
 
36 G^SAB RODNEY'S FO URTH OP JUL T. 
 
 While the negroes, raised to freedom, 
 Drank good rum on white men's graves. 
 
 And the penalties of treason 
 
 Men and women learned agog, — 
 
 To be hanged and disembowled, 
 And boiled living, like a hog. 
 
 Then the priests of all persuasions. 
 
 Save the Presbyterian blue. 
 Showed how God rebuked Rebellion 
 
 In the Gentile or the Jew; 
 Sly old Quakers fanned contention; 
 
 Wesley's preachers had their say. 
 Like the Church of England Rectors, 
 
 Most of whom had run away. 
 
 Shop-kept classes, smuggling liquors, 
 
 Teas and sugars, from the fleet. 
 Told how war would stop all tippling 
 
 And reduce the things to eat; 
 Every good old drunkard faltered, . 
 
 Is this land of plenty put. 
 And some well-disposing patriots 
 
 Took the oath to serve — their gut. 
 
 Men too nice and moral noticed 
 
 Jobbers and contractors swell, — 
 Some would raise the sunken Spaniard, 
 
 And her guns of brass would sell; (2) 
 Some were boiling salt for armies. 
 
 Some were tanning leather brown, 
 Some were hauling lead and powder 
 
 Chincoteague to Chestertown. (3) 
 
 War was up and war is chaos ! 
 
 War is fear and war is spite. 
 Wo to him who bringeth warfare 
 
 Lest he have immortal riarht ! 
 
O^SAB, RODNEY'S FOURTH OF JULY. 37 
 
 And the people felled the flag-pole, (4) 
 Sold the flag for hangman's pence, 
 
 Oheered King George and peace and plenty, 
 And the Congress hissed intense. 
 
 Csesar Rodney, born of gentry — 
 
 Sheriff, judge and general all — 
 Knew the lower countries thorough. 
 
 And each soul by name could call : 
 Dagsbro "Whigs and Broad Kill skulkers, 
 
 Maryland men of Marshy Hope, 
 Folks of Wycoraico and St. Martins, 
 
 And Virginians of Pocomoke. 
 
 Some he sent for, some he went for. 
 
 Through the pines, by mill-ponds black ; 
 Some he soothed and some he threatened 
 
 With a politician's knack ; 
 But the camp lay back at Dovei-, 
 
 And both bays the British held ; 
 And his work was never over. 
 
 Though the leaders he had quelled. 
 
 Little-headed, merry featured, 
 
 Full of fire and appetite, 
 Csesar Rodney loved the table 
 
 And the ladies who invite. (5) 
 Midst the fairest of the Quakers 
 
 Round their church at Pilot Town, 
 Sarah Rowland was the gayest. 
 
 Though she wore the Quaker gown.' 
 
 Niece of merchant Joshua Fisher — (6) 
 
 Widow, witty, wealthy, fine ; 
 Roguish, were her eyes with pleasure. 
 
 And she kept the best of wine ; 
 "When they sat o'er their Madeira 
 
 And a dish of terrapin. 
 
38 O^SAB RODNBT'a FOTTBTR OF JULY. 
 
 She as juicy as a reed bird, 
 He the rail bird, odd and thin, 
 
 Like the marshes in the summer, 
 
 How they twittered, fluttering, 
 And what scolding he took from her 
 
 On her poor, abused King : 
 " Thee a Rodney, thee a Caesar, 
 
 And thy cousin in the fleet, (7) 
 To be leading ragged rebels ! " 
 
 And she stamped her pretty feet. 
 
 Then she drew her dark eyes nearer, 
 
 Smoothed his silk patch with her hand ; 
 Said he was the only rebel 
 
 She could pardon in the land ; 
 And his glass she filled moreover. 
 
 And her maid was fresh to see, 
 And they held the soldier rover 
 
 In a soft captivity. 
 
 Fast the days of June were passing, 
 
 Scarce he knew it was July, 
 For the courting and the glassing, 
 
 And the twinkle in her eye ; 
 All his couriers and dispatches 
 
 Ceased, and in the pleased suspense 
 Nought was said of Philadelphia 
 
 And the public consequence. 
 
 Joshua Fisher and the Quakers, 
 
 Dropping in with velvet paws, 
 Brought a bottle or a chicken, 
 
 Bland as to a brother-in-law's. 
 " Tarry thee, friend Rodney, worthy, 
 
 For we need thy counsel more ! 
 Neither news nor friends come for thee, 
 
 Congress sits with guarded door." 
 
G^SAB BODNET'8 FO URTH OF JUL T. 39 
 
 " Why is John McKean so silent ? 
 
 Is he sick ? Am I forgot ? 
 He who wrote so full and often, 
 
 Whether there was news or not ?" 
 Cleopatra's white arms branching, 
 
 Held his will within their clasp ; 
 Saying : " Caesar, if thee leaves me, 
 
 I must die without an asp." 
 
 But one evening, ere the candles 
 
 Lit the parlor, tripped her maid 
 Through the dusk on noiseless sandals, 
 
 And in Rodney's arms was laid : 
 " Nay," she cried, " 'tis not my mistress, 
 
 Nor one of her Tory school ; 
 I'm a good Whig girl of Sussex, 
 
 You are Sarah Rowland's fool. 
 
 " Post and riders are kept from you. 
 
 Lest the truth they might declare ; 
 Congress votes on Independence — 
 
 There's a tie in Delaware ! 
 On July the Fourth the country 
 
 Must its preference avow ; 
 And our State is lost without you — 
 
 'Tis July the Third, sir, now !" 
 
 With a cry of pain, the General 
 
 Showered his kisses on the jade : 
 " Thou canst save a Rodney's honor — 
 
 Blessings on thee, Sussex maid ! 
 Where's my horse ?" "Here, ready saddled ; 
 
 Here your pistols, here your flask ; 
 With a hundred miles before you. 
 
 All night gallop be your task !" 
 
 Down the bench-road, past the shingled 
 Homes of Lewes, Rodney spurred ; 
 
40 G^SAR RODNET'S FO URTH OF JUL T. 
 
 Past the small old jail and court-house, 
 In the starlight flashed his sword ; 
 
 With one glance upon the ocean 
 To the north star turned his way ; 
 
 Sarah Rowland saw and muttered : 
 " He will miss it by a day !" 
 
 Twenty hours to Philadelphia 
 
 Equalled swiftest courier's powers; 
 Congress met at noon, and Rodney 
 
 Had one horse, and sixteen hours: 
 Two to Cedar Creek produced him — 
 
 Haslet's dogs barked as he passed — 
 Then, warmed up, his good steed loosed him, 
 
 And through Camden winged him fast. 
 
 One o'clock, as cock-crow reckoned, 
 
 Jones's creek had come and gone; 
 Rodney bridled horse the second, 
 
 Changed the saddle and went on. 
 Not a soul at home espied him, 
 
 All in silence Dover lay: 
 " Who comes there ? " the sentry challenged. 
 
 " General Rodney: Clear the way !'' (8) 
 
 At Duck Creek cross-roads the grey light 
 
 From the Jerseys rose in wonder; 
 Cantwell's bridge at clearer daylight 
 
 Sounded to his hoofs of thunder; 
 And old Drawyer's church-panes quiver 
 
 In the marshes as it knew him. 
 And Newcastle, by the river. 
 
 Bent its old brick gables to him. 
 
 Seven o'clock at Wilmington-town, 
 Landlords heard his voice incitening: 
 
 " Rum and sugar and a biscuit, 
 
 And another horse, like lightning! " 
 
C'^SAR R0DNET8 FO UBTM OF JUL T. 41 
 
 Folks on Brandywine and Naaman 
 
 Saw his green patch — sonje to .mock it — 
 
 Like another Abd El Ramon 
 And green banner of the Prophet ! 
 
 Noon approached at Philadelphia, 
 
 And in queues,coclfed,hats and breeches, 
 One by one went in the members. 
 
 Some with scruples, some with speeches. 
 On the State House steps awaited 
 
 John McKean his friend decrepid. 
 With his big square nose inflated 
 
 And his mighty soul intrepid. 
 
 "Read is skulking; Dickinson is 
 
 With conceit and fright our foeman. 
 Wedded to his Quaker monies,''' 
 
 Mused the grim old rebel Roman ; 
 " Pennsylvania, spoiled by faction, 
 
 Independence will not dare; 
 Maryland approves the action; 
 
 Shall we fail on Delaware ? " 
 
 In the tower the old bell rumbled. 
 
 Striking slowly twelve o'clock. 
 Down the street a hot horse stumbled, 
 
 And a man in riding frock. 
 With a green patch on his visage, 
 
 And his garments white with grime. 
 " Now, praise God ! " MoKean spoke grimly, 
 
 " Csesar Rodney is on time." 
 
 Silent, hand in hand together, 
 
 Walked they in the great square hall ; 
 
 To the roll with " Aye " responded 
 At the clerk's immortal call; 
 
 Listened to the Declaration 
 From the steeple to the air: 
 
42 C^SAS B0DNET8 FO URTH OF JUL T. 
 
 " Here this day is made a nation 
 By the help of Delaware ! " 
 
 Joshua Fisher Congress banished 
 
 To Virginia, where the journal 
 Told, in time, that Sarah Rowland 
 
 Wed a captive British Colonel; 
 But she kept the same Madeira, 
 
 Which, posterity endorses, 
 Though it made her lovers tarry. 
 
 Mighty jalop for their horses. 
 
 NOTES TO GEOBGETOWN POEM. 
 
 1. The False Cape, at Henlopen, afforded water enough for a vessel to 
 appear to be aground while really afloat, with her rigging dragging ashore. 
 
 2. An old Spanish vessel of war went ashore on the Sussex coast long 
 before the Bevolutionary- war. 
 
 3. Patriot .supplies were run into Chineoteague Inlet, and hauled to 
 Chestertown on carts. 
 
 4. The American flag-pole was hacked to pieces by a mob at Lewes during 
 the Bevolution. 
 
 6. Caesar Rodney was a bachelor, and fond of high living. 
 
 6. John Fisher was the first vessel master to use Godfrey's quadrant. He 
 made a chart of the Delaware Bay. He was a tory, expelled from Dela- 
 ware to Virginia. 
 
 7. The Rodneys of Delaware were cousins of Admiral Lord Rodney. 
 
 8. The Delaware troops had a drill camp at Dover. 
 
Books of Geo. Alfred Townsend 
 
 ("G ^TH") 
 
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 Tales of the Chesapeake. 
 
 Cloth, 285 pages, with delicate artotype portrait of 
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 Washington, Outside and Inside, 
 
 A Picture and a Narrative of the Capital City, in 
 forty chapters. V50 large octavo pages. Illus- 
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 The New World Compared with the Old. 
 
 A book of -vivid international comparisons. Eighty 
 thousand of this book have been sold. Illus- 
 trated. 663 large octavo pages. Price, cloth, 
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 Lost Abroad, 
 
 A Story of Americans in Europe in 1866, with brilliant 
 descriptions of scenery, cities, war, and events. 
 Price, cloth, plain, $2 ; gilt, $2,50. 
 
 Bohemian Days. 
 
 Three American Tales. Cloth, $1 ; paper, 50 cents. 
 
 Any of the foregoing books will be sent, postage prepaid by the 
 pMishe/rs, on receipt of money or postal ord&r, addressed to 
 
 BONAVENTURE & CO., 
 
 No. 2 BARCLAY ST., ASTOR HOUSE, NEW YORK.