Scarce the dire shock my fainting van sustain,

And Lee* appall'd retires, and yields the dubious

plain.

XVI.

When lo, my favor'd Chief appears to save
From fell destruction's all-devouring sweep;
As the sun rising o'er the turbid wave,

When night with storms hath vex'd the angry deep. Th' astonish'd foes maintain the fight no more, Fierce on their rear my rushing host impends, Their falling legions dye the fields with gore,

Till dusky eve, their better hope, descends; Through fav'ring darkness fly the broken train, Steal trembling to their ships, and hide behind the main.

* General Charles Lee, a British adventurer, who had joined the Americans, and commanded the front division in this action. For his conduct on that occasion, he was suspended for a year from command, and never afterward employed in the service.

LINES

ADDRESSED TO MESSRS. DWIGHT AND BARLOW.

LINES

ADDRESSED TO

MESSRS. DWIGHT AND BARLOW,

On the projected publication of their Poems in London.*
December 1775.

PLEASED with the vision of a deathless name,
You seek perhaps a flowery road to fame;

Where distant far from ocean's stormy roar,
Wind the pure vales and smiles the tranquil shore,
Where hills sublime in vernal sweetness rise,
And opening prospects charm the wand'ring eyes,
While the gay dawn, propitious on your way,
Crimsons the east and lights the orient day.

Yet vain the hope, that waits the promised bays,
Though conscious merit claim the debt of praise;
Still sneering Folly wars with every art,
Still ambush'd Envy aims the secret dart,

* Dwight's Conquest of Canaan, and Barlow's Vision of Columbus, afterwards enlarged and entitled, The Columbiad. This designed publication was prevented by the revolutionary war.

Through hosts of foes the course of glory lies,
Toil wins the field and hazard gains the prize.

For dangers wait, and fears of unknown name,
The long, the dreary pilgrimage of fame;
Each bard invades, each judging dunce reviews,
And every critic wars with every Muse.

As horror gloom'd along the dark'ning path, When famed Ulysses* trod the vales of death; Terrific voices rose, and all around

Dire forms sprang flaming from the rocking ground;
Fierce Cerberus lour'd, and yawning o'er his way,
Hell flash'd the terrors of infernal day;

The scornful fiends opposed his bold career,
And sung in shrieks the prelude of his fear.

Thus at each trembling step, the Poet hears
Dread groans and hisses murmur in his ears;
every breeze a shaft malignant flies,

In

Cerberean forms in every rival rise;

There yawning wide before his path extends
Th' infernal gulph, where Critics are the fiends;
From gloomy Styx pale conflagrations gleam,
And dread oblivion rolls in Lethe's stream.

* Homer's Odyssey, Book 11.