from one of her minor pieces, entitled "Contemplations." Under the cooling shadow of a stately elm Close sate I by a goodly river's side, Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm; A lonely place, with pleasures dignified. I once that loved the shady woods so well, Now thought the rivers did the trees excell, And if the sun would ever shine, there would I dwell. While on the stealing stream I fixt mine eye, Nor is it rocks or shoals that can obstruct thy pace. Nor is 't enough, that thou alone may'st slide, So may we press to that vast mansion, ever blest. Ye fish, which in this liquid region 'bide, In lakes and ponds, you leave your numerous fry, To see what trade the great ones there do drive, yield, While musing thus with contemplation fed, I judg'd my hearing better than my sight, And wisht me wings with her a while to take my flight. O merry bird (said I) that fears no snares, That neither toyles nor hoards up in thy barn, To gain more good, or shun what might thee harm; Reminds not what is past, nor what's to come dost fear. The dawning morn with songs thou dost prevent,* And thus they pass their youth in summer season, Where winter's never felt by that sweet airy legion. Man's at the best a creature frail and vain, In knowledge ignorant, in strength but weak: Subject to sorrows, losses, sickness, pain, And yet this sinfull creature, frail and vain, Anticipate. [lation. In weight, in frequency, and long duration, Can make him deeply groan for that divine translation. As if he had command of wind and tide, So he that saileth in this world of pleasure, Fond fool, he takes this earth ev'n for heaven's bower. O Time, the fatal wrack of mortal things, Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, Their names without a record are forgot, Their parts, their ports, their pomp's all laid in th' dust; WILLIAM BRADFORD, the second governor of Plymouth, who wrote a "History of the People and Colony from 1602 to 1647," composed also " A Descriptive and Historical Account of New England, in Verse," which is preserved in the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society. When JOHN COTTON, a minister of Boston, died in 1652, BENJAMIN WOODBRIDGE, the first graduate of Harvard College, and afterward one of the chaplains of CHARLES the Second, wrote an elegiac poem, from a passage in which it is supposed FRANKLIN borrowed the idea of his celebrated epitaph on himself. COTTON, says WOODBRIDGE, was A living, breathing Bible; tables where O what a monument of glorious worth, The lines of the Reverend JOSEPH CAPEN, on the death of Mr. JOHN FOSTER, an ingenious mathematician and printer, are yet more like the epitaph of FRANKLIN: Thy body which no activeness did lack, A fair edition, and of matchless worth, Free from erratas, new in heaven set forth; 'Tis but a word from God the great Creator, It shall be done when he saith Imprimatur. The excellent President URIAN OAKES, styled "the LACTANTIUS of New England," was one of the most distinguished poets of his time. The following verses are from his b Elegy on the death of THOMAS Shepard, minister of Charlestown: Art, nature, grace, in him were all combined Hee's gone, alas! down in the dust must ly Both Englands speak him great, admire his name,) His look commanded reverence and awe, And ruled by love and wisdom more than fear. He breathed love, and pursued peace in his day, Sure Father WILSON's genuine son was he, Blest be my rock! God lives: O! let him be At that period the memory of every eminent person was preserved in an ingenious elegy, epitaph, or anagram. SHEPARD, mourned in the above verses by OAKES, on the death of JOHN WILSON," the Paul of New England," and "the greatest annagrammatizer since the days of LYCOPHRON," wrote John Wilson, anagr. John Wilson. O, change it not! No sweeter name or thing, Throughout the world, within our ears shall ring. THOMAS WELDE, a poet of some reputation in his day, wrote the following epitaph on SAMUEL DANFORTH, a minister of Roxbury, who died soon after the completion of a new meeting-house : Our new-built church now suffers too by this, Larger its windows, but its lights are less. PETER FOULGER, a schoolmaster of Nantucket, and the maternal grandfather of Doctor FRANKLIN, in 1676 published a poem entitled "A Looking-glass for the Times," addressed to men in authority, in which he advocates religious liberty, and implores the government to repeal the uncharitable laws against the Quakers and other sects. He says— The rulers in the country I do owne them in the LORD; And such as are for government, with them I do accord. But that which I intend hereby, is that they would keep bound; And meddle not with God's worship, for which they have no ground. And I am not alone herein, there's many hundreds more, That have for many years ago spoke much more upon that Indeed, I really believe, it's not your business, [score. To meddle with the church of GoD in matters more or less. In another part of his "Looking Glass" he says Now loving friends and countrymen, I wish we may be wise; 'T is now a time for every man to see with his own eyes. To live in such hypocrisy, as men may think us good, I am for peace, and not for war, and that's the reason why I write more plain than some men do, that use to daub and lie. But I shall cease and set my name to what I here insert: Because to be a libeller, I hate it with my heart. [here, From Sherbontown, where now I dwell, my name I do put Without offence, your real friend, it is PETER FOULGER. Probably the first native bard was he who is described on a tombstone at Roxbury as "BENJAMIN THOMSON, learned schoolmaster and physician, and ye renowned poet of New England." He was born in the town of Dorchester, (now Quincy,) in 1640, and educated at Cambridge where he received a degree in 1662. His ncipal work, "New England's Crisis," appears to have been written during the famous wars of PHILIP, Sachem of the Pequods, against the colonists, in 1675 and 1676. The following is the prologue, in which he laments the growth of luxury among the people: The times wherein old POMPION was a saint, During Plain Dealing's reign, that worthy stud 'Twas ere the neighbouring Virgin-Land had broke Did drive our Christian planters to despair. No sooner pagan malice peeped forth But valour snib'd it. Then were men of worth Who by their prayers slew thousands, angel-like; Their weapons are unseen with which they strike. Then had the churches rest; as yet the coales Were covered up in most contentious souls: Freeness in judgment, union in affection, The most celebrated person of his age in America was COTTON MATHER. He was once revered as a saint, and is still regarded as a man of great natural abilities and profound and universal learning. It is true that he had much of what is usually called scholarship: he could read many languages; and his memory was so retentive that he rarely forgot the most trivial circumstance; but he had too little genius to comprehend great truths; and his attainments, curious rather than valuable, made him resemble a complicate machine, which, turned by the water from year to year, produces only bubbles, and spray, and rainbows in the sun. He was industrious, and, beside his three hundred and eighty-two printed works, left many manuscripts, of which the largest is called "Illustrations of the Sacred Scriptures," on which he laboured daily more than thirty years. It is a mere compilation of ideas and facts from multitudinous sources, and embraces nothing original, or valuable to the modern scholar. His minor works are Dear love, sound truth, they were our grand protection. nearly all forgotten, even by antiquaries. The Then were the times in which our councells sate, These gave prognosticks of our future fate. If these be longer liv'd our hopes increase, THOMSON died in April, 1714, aged 74. He wrote besides his "great epic," three shorter poems, neither of which have much merit. ROGER WILLIAMS, Chief Justice SEWALL, NATHANIEL WARD, of Ipswich, JOHN OSBORN, NATHANIEL PITCHER, and many others were in this period known as poets. The death of PITCHER was celebrated in some verses entitled "Pitchero Threnodia," in which he was compared to PINDAR, HORACE, and other great writers of antiquity. "Magnalia Christi Americana" is preserved rather as a curiosity than as an authority; for recent investigations have shown that his statements are not to be relied on where he had any interest in misrepresenting acts or the characters of persons. His style abounds with puerilities, puns, and grotesque conceits. His intellectual character, however, was better than his moral; for he was wholly destitute of any high religious principles, and was ambitious, intriguing, and unscrupulous. He fanned into a flame the terrible superstition in regard to witchcraft, and when the frenzy was over, hypocritically endeavoured to persuade the people that instead of encouraging the proceedings, his influence and exertions had been on the side of forbearance and caution. Failing to convince them of this, he attempted to justify his conduct, by inventing various personal histories, to show that there had been good cause for the atrocious persecutions. COTTON MATHER'S verses, scattered through a great number of his works, are not superior to those of many of his contemporaries. The following lines from his "Remarks on the Bright and the Dark Side of that American Pillar, the Reverend Mr. William Thomson," show his customary manner APOLLYON Owing him a cursed spleen Then was a DANIEL in the lion's den, "Love, love the LAMB, the LAMB!" in whom he dies. MATHER died on the thirteenth of February, 1724, in the sixty-fifth year of his age. 66 ROGER WOLCOTT, a major-general at the capture of Louisburg, and afterward governor of Connecticut, published a volume of verses at New London, in 1725. His principal work is "A Brief Account of the Agency of the Honourable JOHN WINTHROP, Esquire, in the Court of King CHARLES the Second, Anno Domini 1662, when he obtained a Charter for the Colony of Connecticut." In this he describes a miracle by one of WINTHROP'S company, on the return voyage. The winds awhile Are courteous, and conduct them on their way, The cloudy chariots threatening take the plains; "Now all from safe recumbency arise: Haste to the foresail, there take up a reef: Still more gigantic births spring from the clouds, Which tore the tatter'd canvass from the shrouds, And dreadful balls of lightning fill the air, Those in the cabin heard the sailors screech; He with a faith sure bottom'd on the word In a speech to the king, descriptive of the met his amorous dame, In the next page he describes the rising of the sun By this AURORA doth with gold adorn WOLCOTT retired from public life, after having held many honourable offices, in 1755, and died in May, 1767, in the eighty-ninth year of his age. The next American verse-writer of much reputation was the Reverend MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. He was born in 1631, and graduated at Harvard College soon after entering upon his twentieth year. When rendered unable to preach, by an affection of the lungs, In costly verse and most laborious rhymes, He dish'd up truths right worthy our regard. His principal work, The Day of Doom, or a Poetical Description of the Great and Last Judgment, with a Short Discourse about Eternity," passed through six editions in this country, and was reprinted in London. A few verses will show its style Still was the night, serene and bright, When all men sleeping lay; This was their song their cups among, The evening before. After the "sheep" have received their reward, the several classes of "goats" are arraigned before the judgment-seat, and, in turn, begin to excuse themselves. When the infants object to damnation on the ground that Adam is set free And saved from his trespass, Whose sinful fall hath spilt them all, And brought them to this pass, the puritan theologist does not sustain his doctrine very well, nor quite to his own satisfaction even; and the judge, admitting the palliating circumstances, decides that although in bliss They may not hope to dwell, At length the general sentence is pronounced, and the condemned begin to wring their hands, their caitiff-hands, And gnash their teeth for terror; They cry, they roar for anguish sore, But get away without delay, CHRIST pities not your cry: And roar eternally. WIGGLESWORTH died in 1705. The Reverend BENJAMIN COLMAN, D. D. "married in succession three widows, and wrote three poems;" but though his diction was more elegant than that of most of his contemporaries, he had less originality. His only daughter, Mrs. JANE TURELL, wrote verses which were much praised by the critics of her time. The "Poems of the Reverend JOHN ADAMS, M.A.," were published in Boston in 1745, four years after the author's death. The volume contains paraphrases of the Psalms of David, the Book of Revelation in heroic verse, translations from HORACE, and four original compositions, of which the longest is a "Poem on Society," in three cantos. The following picture of parental love is from the first canto. The parent, warm with nature's tender fire, But when succeeding years have fix'd his growth, But now the Muse in softer measure flows, The snowy bosom, and the killing air; A frown will gather, and discharge a storm: Be all distraction, or all artifice ? True love does flattery as much disdain As, of its own perfections, to be vain. The heart can feel whate'er the lips reveal, Nor Syren's smiles the destined death conceal. Love is a noble and a generous fire, Esteem and virtue feed the just desire; It likes, but ne'er can love another fair. Fix'd upon one supreme, and her alone, Our heart is, of the fair, the constant throne. Nor will her absence, or her cold neglect, At once, expel her from our just respect: Inflamed by virtue, love will not expire, Unless contempt or hatred quench the fire. ADAMS died on the twenty-second of January, 1740. I copy from the "Boston Weekly Newsletter," printed the day after his interment, the following letter from a correspondent at Cambridge, which shows the estimation in which he was held by his contemporaries: "Last Wednesday morning expired in this place, in the thirty-sixth year of his age, and this day was interred with a just solemnity and respect, the reverend and learned JOHN ADAMS, M. A., only son of the Honourable JOHN ADAMS, Esquire. "The corpse was carried and placed in the * This was the first newspaper published in America. It was established in 1604, and the first sheet that was printed was taken damp from the press by Chief Justice SEWEL, to exhibit as a curiosity to President WILLARD, of Harvard University. The "Newsletter" was continued seventy-two years. |