Gazette Of The United States

FROM THE (BOSTON) MERCURY

FAME, who is ever listening with delight to the mellifluous Lyre of Philenia, has lately been assiduous in circulating the information, that this favorite Muse is now composing a POEM, of the Epic nature, in which will be delineated some of the most striking features of the Revolution in this country. From the greatness and brilliancy of the subject, the Critic may anticipate the pleasure of beholding a Maeonian Scion engrafted on the stalk of Columbian genius; and the Champions of Freedom, from the exalted reputation of this fair writer, may exult in an exemption from the fate of ALEXANDER, who wept, that he had not a Homer to perpetuate his glorious achievements. The Poem, we hear, is entitled, "BEACON HILL."

As the momentous scenes in the Drama of the American war (after the curtain of open hostility had been drawn by the genius of Liberty) are embosomed in the visible horizon of this eminence; so commanding a spot could not pass unnoticed by so penetrating an eye, nor unimmortalized by so elegant a pen. This natural observatory is also peculiarly favorable to the pleasures of perspective. Here may the visual sense feast on the most picturesque views, which our country exhibits. Here may the wing of imagination rove unconfined, over an exhaustless field of the most romantic REALITIES. Here may the republican bosom glow with grateful pride, while on one hand he hears the busy din of the commercial and mechanic arts; and on the other, beholds the back ground of the Picture superbly ornamented with Nature's most profusive luxuriance. Collected in one beautiful group, we here behold the various and flourishing departments of this rising Empire.

But while from this elevation the senses are regaled by such flattering prospects, the heights of Charlestown, or the more distant plains of Lexington, arrest the attention, and the gay scene is changed. The memory of departed Heroes, who sealed the charter of Independence with their blood, invests the mind in tributary contemplation; while the tear of regret fills the eye with gloomy gratitude.

Blest be the Muse, whose soft Orphean breath
Recalls their memories from the realms of death!
And blest PHILENIA, noblest of the choir,
Whose hallowed hands attune Columbia's lyre,
'Tis thine to bid the deathless Laurel bloom,
And shade departed Virtue's sacred tomb;
While prun'd by thee, its loftier branches grow,
And yield new honors to the dust below!
'Tis thine, like Phoebus, Sun of GLORY
STAND!
And gild the urn of Freedom's martyr'd band
While in thy Song, with charms illustrious,
Shine
Gods, shap'd like men, and men, like Gods, divine!
Hail, lofty Beacon, hill of Freedom, hail!
Thy torch her Herald to the distant vale!
What various scenes, from thy commanding height,
Th' horizon paint—the turning eye delight!
Loud Ocean here, with undulating roar,
Calls daring souls to worlds unknown before:
While musing there, like Fancy's wanton child,
Charles curls along, irregular and wild;
Here, Commerce, deck'd in all the wings of Time,
Courts the fleet breeze, and ranges every clime.
There the gay villa lifts its lofty head,
The social mansion, and the humbler shed.
But nobler honors to thy Fame belong,
And owe their splendor to PHILENIA's song.
Beacon shall live the theme of future lays;
Philenia bids—obsequious Fame obeys.
Beacon shall live, embalm'd in verse sublime,
THE NEW PARNASSUS OF A NOBLER CLIME.
No more the fount of Helicon shall boast
Its peerless waters, or its tutor-host:
To thee shall every able Muse aspire,
And learn new music from Philenia's lyre.
No more the flying steed the bard shall bear
Through the wild regions of poetic air!
On nobler gales of verse his wings shall rise,
While Beacon's Eagle wafts him thro' the skies.
'Tis here Philenia's Muse begins her flight,
As Heaven elate, extensive as the light;
Here, like this bird of Jove, she mounts the wind,
And leaves the clouds of vulgar bards behind.
Her tuneful notes, in tones melifluous flow,
With charms more various than the color'd bow,
Here, softly sweet her liquid measures play,
And milder zephyrs gently sigh away.
There, towering numbers talk, majestic rise,
Like Ocean storm, and lighten like the skies.
While here, the gay Canary charms our ears,
There, the lorn Philomel dissolves in tears,
While here, the deep, grave verse flow loiters on,
There, the blithe lines in swift meanders run.
Thus to each theme responds her echoing lay:
Bold, without rashness; without trifling, gay;
Serene, yet nervous; easy, yet sublime
With modulation's unaffected chime;
Soft, without weakness; without phrensy, warm:
The varying shade of Nature's varying form!
Let souls, elated by the pomp of praise,
The arch triumphal, or the busto raise,
Bid marble, joining into life, proclaim
Their bubble greatness in the ear of Fame!
Gay trifles, pictur'd out on Glory's shore,
Which Time's first rising billow leaves no more!
'Tis thine PHILENIA, loveliest Muse, to raise
A firmer monument of nobler praise!
Thou shalt survive, when Time shall whelm the hut,
And lay the pyramids of Fame in dust.
Unsoil'd by years, shall thy pathetic verse
Melt Memnon's eye upon the Patriot's heart
And while each distant age and clime admire
The funeral honors of thy Epic lyre,
What Hero's bosom would not wish to bleed,
That thou mightst sing, and raptur'd ages read?
Till the last page of NATURE's volume blaze,
Shall live the tablet graven with thy lays!

MENANDER.