For agriculture's toil. No blood we shed For metals buried in a rocky waste.
Curs'd be that ore, which brutal makes our race, And prompts mankind to shed a brother's blood!
Eugenio
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But whence arose That vagrant race who love the shady vale, And choose the forest for their dark abode? For long has this perplext the sages' skill To investigate. Tradition lends no aid To unveil this secret to the mortal eye
When first these various nations, north and south, Possest these shores, or from what countries came ?—
Whether they sprang from some primeval head In their own lands, like Adam in the east, Yet this the sacred oracles deny,
And reason, too, reclaims against the thought: For when the general deluge drown'd the world Where could their tribes have found security, Where find their fate, but in the ghastly deep? Unless, as others dream, some chosen few High on the Andes 'scap'd the general death, High on the Andes, wrapped in endless snow, Where winter in his wildest fury reigns,
And subtile aether scarce our life maintains. But here philosophers oppose the scheme: This earth, say they, nor hills nor mountains knew Ere yet the universal flood prevail'd;
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But when the mighty waters rose aloft,
Rous'd by the winds, they shook their solid base, And, in convulsions, tore the delug'd world, 'Till by the winds assuag'd again they fell, And all their ragged bed expos'd to view. Perhaps, far wandering toward the northern pole, The streights of Zembla, and the frozen zone, And where the eastern Greenland almost joins America's north point, the hardy tribes
Of banish'd Jews, Siberians, Tartars wild Came over icy mountains, or on floats
First reach'd these coasts, hid from the world beside.
And yet another argument more strange, Reserv'd for men of deeper thought, and late, Presents itself to view: In Peleg's1 days, (So says the Hebrew seer's unerring pen) This mighty mass of earth, this solid globe Was cleft in twain, -"divided" east and west, While straight between, the deep Atlantic roll'd. And traces indisputable remain
Of this primeval land, now sunk and lost. The islands rising in our eastern main Are but small fragments of this continent, Whose two extremities were New Foundland And St. Helena. - One far in the north, Where shivering seamen view with strange surprise The guiding pole-star glittering o'er their heads; The other near the southern tropic rears
Its head above the waves - Bermuda's isles, Cape Verd, Canary, Britain and the Azores, With fam'd Hibernia, are but broken parts Of some prodigious waste, which once sustain'd Nations and tribes, of vanish'd memory, Forests and towns, and beasts of every class, Where navies now explore their briny way.
Leander
Your sophistry, Eugenio, makes me smile: The roving mind of man delights to dwell On hidden things, merely because they're hid: He thinks his knowledge far beyond all limit, And boldly fathoms Nature's darkest haunts - But for uncertainties, your broken isles, Your northern Tartars, and your wandering Jews, (The flimsy cobwebs of a sophist's brains) Hear what the voice of history proclaims The Carthagenians, ere the Roman yoke Broke their proud spirits, and enslav'd them too, For navigation were renown'd as much As haughty Tyre with all her hundred fleets, Full many a league their vent'rous seamen sail'd
Thro' streight Gibralter, down the western shore Of Africa, to the Canary isles:
By them call'd Fortunate; so Flaccus 1 sings, Because eternal spring there clothes the fields And fruits delicious bloom throughout the year.- From voyaging here, this inference I draw, Perhaps some barque with all her numerous crew Falling to leeward of her destin'd port, Caught by the eastern Trade, was hurried on Before the unceasing blast to Indian isles, Brazil, La Plata, or the coasts more south There stranded, and unable to return, Forever from their native skies estrang'd Doubtless they made these virgin climes their own, And in the course of long revolving years
A numerous progeny from these arose,
And spread throughout the coasts those whom we call Brazilians, Mexicans, Peruvians rich,
The tribes of Chili, Patagon and those Who till the shores of Amazon's long stream, When first the power of Europe here attain'd Vast empires, kingdoms, cities, palaces, And polish'd nations stock'd the fertile land. Who has not heard of Cuzco, Lima and The town of Mexico - huge cities form'd From Europe's architecture; ere the arms Of haughty Spain disturb'd the peaceful soil. - But here amid this northern dark domain No towns were seen to rise. No arts were here; The tribes unskill'd to raise the lofty mast, Or force the daring prow thro' adverse waves, Gaz'd on the pregnant soil, and crav'd alone Life from the unaided genius of the ground,— This indicates they were a different race; From whom descended, 't is not ours to say That power, no doubt, who furnish'd trees and plants, And animals to this vast continent,
Spoke into being man among the rest,- But what a change is here! what arts arise!
What towns and capitals! how commerce waves Her gaudy flags, where silence reign'd before!
Acasto
Speak, my Eugenio, for I've heard you tell, The dismal story, and the cause that brought The first adventurers to these western shores; The glorious cause that urg'd our fathers first To visit climes unknown, and wilder woods Than e'er Tartarian or Norwegian saw, And with fair culture to adorn a soil That never felt the industrious swain before.
Eugenio
All this long story to rehearse, would tire, Besides, the sun toward the west retreats, Nor can the noblest theme retard his speed, Nor loftiest verse not that which sang the fall Of Troy divine, and fierce Achilles' ire. Yet hear a part: - by persecution wrong'd, And sacerdotal rage, our fathers came From Europe's hostile shores, to these abodes, Here to enjoy a liberty in faith,
Secure from tyranny and base controul. For this they left their country and their friends, And dar'd the Atlantic wave in search of peace; And found new shores, and sylvan settlements, And men, alike unknowing and unknown. Hence, by the care of each adventurous chief New governments (their wealth unenvied yet) Were form'd on liberty and virtue's plan. These searching out uncultivated tracts Conceiv'd new plans of towns, and capitals, And spacious provinces. Why should I name Thee, Penn, the Solon of our western lands Sagacious legislator, whom the world. Admires, long dead: an infant colony, Nurs'd by thy care, now rises o'er the rest Like that tall pyramid in Egypt's waste O'er all the neighbouring piles, they also great.
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Why should I name those heroes so well known, Who peopled all the rest from Canada
To Georgia's farthest coast, West Florida, Or Apalachian mountains ? Yet what streams Of blood were shed! what Indian hosts were slain, Before the days of peace were quite restor❜d!
Leander
Yes, while they overturn'd the rugged soil And swept the forests from the shaded plain 'Midst dangers, foes, and death, fierce Indian tribes With vengeful malice arm'd, and black design, Oft murdered, or dispers'd, these colonies — Encourag'd, too, by Gallia's hostile sons, A warlike race, who late their arms display'd At Quebec, Montreal, and farthest coasts Of Labrador, or Cape Breton, where now The British standard awes the subject host. Here, those brave chiefs, who, lavish of their blood, Fought in Britannia's cause, in battle fell! — What heart but mourns the untimely fate of Wolfe Who, dying, conquer'd! or what breast but beats To share a fate like his, and die like him!
Acasto
―――――――
But why alone commemorate the dead, And pass those glorious heroes by, who yet Breathe the same air, and see the light with us? · The dead, Leander, are but empty names, And they who fall to-day the same to us, As they who fell ten centuries ago! Lost are they all, that shin'd on earth before; Rome's boldest champions in the dust are laid, Ajax and great Achilles are no more, And Philip's warlike son, an empty shade! A Washington among our sons of fame We boast conspicuous as the morning star Among the inferior lights
To distant wilds Virginia sent him forth - With her brave sons he gallantly oppos'd
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