Never as yet the unjust muse
(As if by those old precepts bound
Which tie the superstitious Jews,)
One line to praise a HOG has found.
Never till now, as I remember,
Has any poet sung a swine,
O, Hog! this twentieth of November,
I celebrate--the day is thine.
Three years ago thy little eyes
Peep’d on the day with optics weak;
Three years ago thy infant cries,
By mortal men were call’d a squeak.
Ev’n then the muse prophetic saw
Thy youthful days, thy latter state,
And sigh’d at the relentless law,
That doom’d thee to an early fate.
Yes, the fond muse has anxious look’d,
While thou a roaster, careless play’dst,
Thoughtless how soon thou might’st be cook’d,
(A fine appearance then thou mad’st.)
The dangers of a roasting past,
She saw thee rear’d a handsome shoat;
Saw thee a full-grown hog at last,
And heard thee grunt a deeper note.
Thy charms mature with joy she view’d,
As waddling on short legs about,
Or rolling in delicious mud,
Or rooting with sagacious snout.
But thy last hour is near at hand;
Before a year, a month, a week,
Is past, ’tis Fate’s severe command,
That death shall claim thy latest squeak.
And this shall be thy various doom;
Thou shalt be roasted, fry’d and boil’d,
Black puddings shall thy blood become,
Thy lifeless flesh shall pork be styl’d:
Thy ears and feet in souse shall lie;
Minc’d sausage meat thy guts shall cram;
And each plump, pretty, waddling thigh,
Salted and smoak’d, shall be a ham.
Yet it is fruitless to complain:
“Death cuts down all, both great and small;”
And hope and fear alike are vain,
To those who by his stroke must fall.
Full many a hero, young and brave,
Like thee, O Hog! resign’d his breath;
The noble presents nature gave,
Form’d but a surer mark for death.
Achilles met an early doom;
Euryalus and Nisus, young,
Were slain; but honour’d was their tomb;
That, Homer, these, sweet Maro sung.
On the rude cliffs of proud Quebec,
In glory’s arm Montgomery dy’d;
And Freedom’s genius loves to deck
His early grave with verdant pride.
Nor shalt thou want a sprig of bays
To crown thy name. When set agog,
The muse shall tune eccentric lays,
And, pleas’d, IMMORTALIZE A HOG.
_NEW-YORK: +Printed by JOHN TIEBOUT, No. 358, Pearl-Street, for THOMAS
BURLING, Jun. & Co.+ +Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 6s. per
quarter) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and at the Circulating
Library of Mr. J. FELLOWS, No. 60, Wall-Street._
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE;
or, Miscellaneous Repository.
+Vol. II.+] +Wednesday, April 26, 1797.+ [+No. 95.+
_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
* * *
ON MATRIMONY.
ADDRESSED TO MR. C. L.
You are desirous, you say, to see a small sketch and exemplification on
the benefits incumbent and to be experienced by embracing the connubial
state of matrimony.--I do not profess to be a competent judge in
pourtraying the perfections and incomprehensible felicities which might
be enjoyed by the sweet acquiescence of enlightened minds; but can, by a
slight survey of those incidents which has happened to excite my
wandering attention, anticipate those domestic enjoyments which are
experienced by the moral and virtuous pair. I shall not contend that all
who embrace the matrimonial state, enjoy that pure bliss for which such
a state was morally intended; those who come short of this privilege,
are contracted in their ideas; they are incapable of comprehending and
bringing into sweet subordination the faculties of the human mind--and
from hence, in time, arises a disgusting aversion to the sensation and
impulse which once stole upon their hearts, and stimulated them with an
eagerness to possess the object of their wishes; every trifling incident
tends to exhilirate evil propensities, and almost all their converse
becomes one continual series of discord and contention: the spark of
affection is now extinguished, and their existence becomes, as it were,
insupportable.--I readily admit, that such a compact of misery is very
inauspicious, and none more disgusting and unhappy.
But to enjoy the state of matrimony to the greatest advantage and
fullest extent, I think it propitious to be well acquainted with the
disposition of our own hearts; the guidance of our passions we should be
masters of, and always keep reason in our right hand, and evil
propensities at a distance. The feelings which are dishonourable, and
are in direct aversion to puerile happiness, may, at intervals, strive
to obtain a seat in the hearts of the most virtuous pair; but, with a
little exertion are defeated and put at defiance--and now it is that
those joys which are almost supreme and insurpassible take up a
residence in their breasts; they make it their chief and greatest
blessing to cultivate their hearts in love and accordant unison--their
social hours roll on in joyous emotions--they taste the blessings of a
lasting union in affection and disposition--they improve the hours of
solitude by endearing and virtuous precepts; and their hearts are ever
engaged to eternize each others happiness, both temporal and
spiritual.--With what ecstacy do they behold themselves possessed of a
little progeny; who, by their wise precepts, are initiated into morals
that enlighten and beautify the soul; they become ornaments to society,
and a soothing balm to the declining mortality of their revered parents.
What state in existence is so desirable and is productive of such
beneficent repose to the mind that was once prone to wander through the
thick mazes of perplexities, and encounter those versatile haunts of a
disturbed imagination? I hope you will agree with me in my conclusion,
that the matrimonial state, when supported inviolable by enlightened
hearts and conceptions, is the greatest felicity in the reach of
mortals, that existence can afford.
Yours, &c.