Liberty and Peace by Phillis Wheatley (1753-1784)
Boston: Warden and Russell, 1784.
By Phillis Peters.
Boston: Printed by WARDEN and RUSSELL,
At Their Office in Marlborough-Street, M,DCC,LXXXIV.
LO! Freedom comes. Th' prescient Muse foretold, |
All Eyes th' accomplish'd Prophecy behold: |
Her Port describ'd, "She moves divinely fair, |
"Olive and Laurel bind her golden Hair." |
She, the bright Progeny of Heaven, descends, |
And every Grace her sovereign Step attends; |
For now kind Heaven, indulgent to our Prayer, |
In smiling Peace resolves the Din of War. |
Fix'd in Columbia her illustrious Line, |
And bids in thee her future Councils shine. |
To every Realm her Portals open'd wide, |
Receives from each the full commercial Tide. |
Each Art and Science now with rising Charms |
Th' expanding Heart with Emulation warms. |
E'en great Britannia sees with dread Surprize, |
And from the dazzling Splendor turns her Eyes! |
Britain, whose Navies swept th' Atlantic o'er, |
And Thunder sent to every distant Shore; |
E'en thou, in Manners cruel as thou art, |
The Sword resign'd, resume the friendly Part! |
For Galia's Power espous'd Columbia's Cause, |
And new-born Rome shall give Britannia Law, |
Nor unremember'd in the grateful Strain, |
Shall princely Louis' friendly Deeds remain; |
The generous Prince th' impending Vengeance eye's, |
Sees the fierce Wrong, and to the rescue flies. |
Perish that Thirst of boundless Power, that drew |
On Albion's Head the Curse to Tyrants due. |
But thou appeas'd submit to Heaven's decree, |
That bids this Realm of Freedom rival thee! |
Now sheathe the Sword that bade the Brave attone |
With guiltless Blood for Madness not their own. |
Sent from th' Enjoyment of their native Shore |
Ill-fated – never to behold her more! |
From every Kingdom on Europa's Coast |
Throng'd various Troops, their Glory, Strength and Boast. |
With heart-felt pity fair Hibernia saw |
Columbia menac'd by the Tyrant's Law: |
On hostile Fields fraternal Arms engage, |
And mutual Deaths, all dealt with mutual Rage: |
The Muse's Ear hears mother Earth deplore |
Her ample Surface smoak with kindred Gore: |
The hostile Field destroys the social Ties, |
And every-lasting Slumber seals their Eyes. |
Columbia mourns, the haughty Foes deride, |
Her Treasures plunder'd, and her Towns destroy'd: |
Witness how Charlestown's curling Smoaks arise, |
In sable Columns to the clouded Skies! |
The ample Dome, high-wrought with curious Toil, |
In one sad Hour the savage Troops despoil. |
Descending Peace and Power of War confounds; |
From every Tongue celestial Peace resounds: |
As for the East th' illustrious King of Day, |
With rising Radiance drives the Shades away, |
So Freedom comes array'd with Charms divine, |
And in her Train Commerce and Plenty shine. |
Britannia owns her Independent Reign, |
Hibernia, Scotia, and the Realms of Spain; |
And great Germania's ample Coast admires |
The generous Spirit that Columbia fires. |
Auspicious Heaven shall fill with fav'ring Gales, |
Where e'er Columbia spreads her swelling Sails: |
To every Realm shall Peace her Charms display, |
And Heavenly Freedom spread her golden Ray. |
THE END |