[From the same]
On the glorious death of Joseph Hamilton Daviess, Commander
of the Horse, who fell a victim to his love of country, in
the late battle on the Wabash, the 7th. Nov., 1811.
Dedicated to John Rowan, Esq.
'Twas late in autumn, and the thrifty swain
In spacious barns secur'd the golden grain;
November's chilly mornings breath'd full keen;
No leafy honors crown'd the sylvan scene.
When Fame with those sad tidings quickly flew
Throughout our land; (her tale, alas! too true):
"The savage Indian, our perfidious foe,
Pretending peace with hypocritic show,
Surpris'd our legions in the dead of night
And urg'd with lead and steel the mortal fight;
Our valiant warriors strew th' ensanguin'd plain,
Ev'n our great Captain of the Horse is slain
With triple wound!!! At length the foe retires,
With loss; and leaves his town to our avenging fires."
When summer gilded our nocturnal sky
With astral gems; a comet blazed on high,
Portentous of these fates!--the earth, in throes
Repeated labors; rueful Wabash flows
With slower current, stain'd with mingling blood!
The _Dryads_ fill with plaints the echoing wood!
Hymen, the slaughter heard, dissolves in grief!
Naught can console him, naught can yield relief.
In woeful silence sits the muses' train
And Friendship mourns her fav'rite hero slain.
The funeral crape, vain badge of grief! she wears
Upon her head, her arms the emblem bears,
Her sorrowing mind no moderation knows,
Admits no measure to her boundless woes.
Ah, what avails the vain expense of tears?
Fate still unmov'd this fruitless anguish bears!
Therefore to Themis' shrine, with one accord,
They come to crave a more benign award.
The direful cause the attentive Goddess hears,
And soon this just decree her record bears:
"Let Daviess still in semblance grace my halls,
Let his bright portraiture adorn my walls;
The civic oak his sacred brows entwine,
And vict'ry to the wreath his laurel join.
Let Legislative acts of mourning show
The voted ensigns of the public woe;
In the historic page be ever read
The fierce encounter, when great Daviess bled,
And be the fatal spot with cypress shade o'erspread;
His noble heart let Hymen's care enclose
In the rich urn, and friendship's hand compose
His other relics in the marble tomb.
Then let the ages present and to come
Just praises render to his glorious name;
Let honor'd Daviess gild the page of fame,
A hero, fit a nation's pow'r to wield,
In council wise, and mighty in the field."
His mortal life a narrow space confines,
But glory with unbounded lustre shines.
Those virtuous souls, who shed their noble blood
A willing off'ring to the public good,
Who to their country's welfare freely give
The sacrifice of life, forever live
As bright examples to the unborn brave,
To shew how virtue rescues from the grave.
The noblest act the patriot's fame can tell,
Is, that he bravely for his country fell.
Thus sung the missionary bard, and paid
This mournful tribute to the mighty dead.