Gazette Of The United States

Mr. Fenno,

The following ODE was written and inscribed to General WASHINGTON, a short time after the surrender of York-Town.

The VISION.

'TWAS in a beauteous verdant shade,

Deck'd by the genius of the glade,

With Nature's fragrant stores;

Where Fairy Elves light tripp'd the green—

Where Silvan Nymphs were often seen

To strew the sweetest flowers.

Lethean air from Tempe's vale,

Wafted an aromatic gale,

And lull'd my soul to rest:

I saw, or musing seem'd to see,

The future years of Destiny,

That brighten'd all the West.

The Muse array'd in heav'nly grace

Call'd up each Actor in his place

Before my wondering eyes;

The magic of the Aonian Maid,

The world of Vision wide display'd,

And bid the scenes arise.

I saw great FABIAS come in state,

I saw the British Lion's fate.

The Unicorn's despair;

Convene'd in Secrecy's Divan,

The Chiefs contriv'd the fav'rite plan,

And York-Town clos'd the war.

Nor could the dazzling triumph charm

The friends of faction, or its rage disarm

Fierce to divide, to weaken and subvert:

I saw the Imps of Discord rise—

Intrigue, with little arts, surprize,

Delude—alarm and then the State desert.

My soul grew sick of human things—

I took my Harp, and touch'd the strings,

Full often set to woe;

Conjur'd the gentle Muse to take

The power of future knowledge back—

No more I wish'd to know.

Rash Mortal stop! She cried with zeal,

One secret more I must reveal,

That will renew your prime:

These storms will work the wish'd for cure;

And put the State in health so pure,

As to resist old Time.

The free born mind will feel the force,

That Justice is the only source

Of Laws concise and clear;

Their native rights, they will regain

To Men, who can those rights define,

And every burthen bear.

The SACRED COMPACT, in a band

Of brothers, shall unite the land,

And Envy's self be dead;

The Body one, and one the soul,

Virtue shall animate the whole,

And FABIUS be the head.

Rous'd from the enthusiastic dream

By the soft murmur of a stream,

That glided thro' the meads,

I tun'd my lyre to themes refin'd,

While Nature's gentle voices join'd,

To sing the glorious deeds.

When lo! HIMSELF, the CHIEF rever'd.

In native elegance appear'd,

And all things Smil'd around,

Adorn'd with every pleasing art,

Enthron'd the Sov'reign of each heart,

I saw the HERO crown'd.

New-Jersey, May 1789.