The Rhode Island American, And General Advertiser

Miscellaneous
The following lines are extracted from a poem
just published, pronounced at Cambridge
on the occasion of the late celebration of
peace, by Mr. Henry Ware, jun.
Who then this deep despondency could chase.
The settled sadness of the patriot face?
Who could dispel the darkness of the breast,
And lay its chill and torturing fears to rest
When the sick heart beheld its prospects
droop.
And courage fainted on the tomb of hope?
The past—how sad the marks of wo it bore!
How blank the dreary waste that stretch'd before!
But yet some gleams of glory rush'd between,
And threw a dazzling brightness on the scene.
Whose heart was still that heard the deeds of
might
The unequalled grandeur of our ocean fight?
Who felt not proud, when each returning wave
Roll'd home a glorious tribute to the brave?
Who felt not proud, the ennobled tale to tell—
Our father's spirits in their children dwell?
Who but the ardour of the contest knows,
From the high opening to the signal close—
From Hull's first flash that woke the astonished main,
To the last peal that echoed on Champlain?
Ye gallant crew that trod the mighty deep,
Enough is done; now let your terrors sleep;
Sleep—like your native ocean—still yet dread;
Its spirit slumbers—but it is not dead.
By the calm moved, again its fury roars,
Raves to the blast and dashes to the shores.
But now enough; retire, your country's pride;
Fame shouts your honours loud, and spreads
them wide.
Enjoy the sounds upon tranquil main,
Nor ask the triumph of the fight again
Hushed be the war-storm on the sea and lake
Long hushed the passions that its rage would
wake.