The New York Journal, And Daily Patriotic Register

Cooper's Creek, West New-Jersey.

HAIL! great Cricpartus, chief of frogs,
That swim in pools, or sit in bogs!
Benignant genius of the fount,
Whose lucid streamlets lave the mount!
Propitious croak upon these lays,
That fondly carol in thy praise.
Thee, ev'ry Frog shall still obey,
And rapid Lizards own thy sway:
The Turtle and the Terrapine,
Shall know no other rule but thine:
Shrill grasshoppers their chirp shall cease
Attention catch the gabbling geese:
The bull-frog shall suppress his roar.
That echoes from the Cooper's shore;
Sweet Robin, and each bird of spring,
Shall mutely sit while those shall sing-
Thy poet too, forbear his rhyme,
To hear the croak thy morning hymn.
No wanton boys or ravenous torc
Shall here display their cruel work:
No filthy duck, or treach'rous snake,
Disturb thy smooth and placid lake;
Nor Jove again with enshel s log,
Insult the majesty of Frog,
Tho' Jove as chief of Gods we sing,
Thou art the Godhead of this spring-
In this the muses all agree,
Like him, thou art a deity.
Sacred thy stream as Hippocrene
The margin deck'd with vernal green,
While Flora spreads her mantle round,
And strews with odours all the ground.
Come then ye maids, with hallow'd lip
And cobia's inspiration sip,
Pure is the wave, as Taurus' gold
More clear than Inachus of old,
Sweeter than Heliconian rill
Or fam'd Castalia's amber well.
While Arethusa's wand'ring stream,
Still glides in verse, the poet's theme,
Thy precious fountain shall remain,
To cheer the bard and drouthy swain,
Then yield thy waters, guardian Frog.
To qualify my can of grog,
So shall thy name adorn my lays
And all the muses chaunt thy praise.

Dover, March 16, 1788.
F. P.