Joel Barlow Quotes

Think not, ye knaves, whom meanness styles the Great, Drones of the Church and harpies of the State, — Ye, whose curst sires, for blood and plunder fam'd, Sultans or kings or czars or emp'rors nam'd, Taught the deluded world their claims to own, And raise the crested reptiles to a throne, — Ye, who pretend to your dark host was given The lamp of life, the mystic keys of heaven; Whose impious arts with magic spells began When shades of ign'rance veil'd the race of man; Who change, from age to age, the sly deceit As Science beams, and Virtue learns the cheat; Tyrants of double powers, the soul that blind, To rob, to scourge, and brutalize mankind, Think not I come to croak with omen'd yell The dire damnations of your future hell, To bend a bigot or reform a knave, By op'ning all the scenes beyond the grave. I know your crusted souls: while one defies In sceptic scorn the vengeance of the skies, The other boasts, — “I ken thee, Power divine, “But fear thee not; th' avenging bolt is mine." No! 'tis the present world that prompts the song, The world we see, the world that feels the wrong, The world of men, whose arguments ye know, Of men, long curb'd to servitude and wo, Men, rous'd from sloth, by indignation stung, Their strong hands loos'd, and found their fearless tongue; Whose voice of fire, whose deep-descending steel Shall speak to souls, and teach dull nerves to feel.

From slavery then your rising realms to save, Regard the master, notice not the slave; Consult alone for freemen, and bestow Your best, your only cares, to keep them so. Tyrants are never free; and, small and great, All masters must be tyrants soon or late; So nature works; and oft the lordling knave Turns out at once a tyrant and a slave, Struts, cringes, bullies, begs, as courtiers must, Makes one a god, another treads in dust, Fears all alike, and filches whom he can, But knows no equal, finds no friend in man. Ah!

Here then, said Hesper, with a blissful smile, Behold the fruits of thy long years of toil. To yon bright borders of Atlantic day Thy swelling pinions led the trackless way, And taught mankind such useful deeds to dare, To trace new seas and happy nations rear; Till by fraternal hands their sails unfurl'd Have waved at last in union o'er the world. Then let thy steadfast soul no more complain Of dangers braved and griefs endured in vain, Of courts insidious, envy's poison'd stings, The loss of empire and the frown of kings; While these broad views thy better thoughts compose To spurn the malice of insulting foes; And all the joys descending ages gain, Repay thy labors and remove thy pain.

There are those who strive to stamp with disrepute The luscious food, because it feeds the brute; In tropes of high-strain'd wit, while gaudy prigs Compare thy nursling man to pamper'd pigs; With sovereign scorn I treat the vulgar jest, Nor fear to share thy bounties with the beast.

And didst thou hope, by thy infuriate quill To rouse mankind the blood of realms to spill? Then to restore, on death devoted plains, Their scourge to tyrants, and to man his chains? To swell their souls with thy own bigot rage, And blot the glories of so bright an age? First stretch thy arm, and with less impious might, Wipe out the stars, and quench the solar light : “For heav'n and earth," the voice of God ordains, “Shall pass and perish, but my word remains," Th' eternal Word, which gave, in spite of thee, Reason to man, that bids the man be free.

But grant to kings and courts their ancient play, Recall their splendour and revive their sway; Can all your cant and all your cries persuade One power to join you in your wild crusade? In vain ye search to earth's remotest end; No court can aid you, and no king defend.

But here tho' distant from our native shore, With mutual glee we meet and laugh once more, The same! I know thee by that yellow face, That strong complexion of true Indian race, Which time can never change, nor soil impair, Nor Alpine snows, nor Turkey's morbid air; For endless years, thro' every mild domain, Where grows the maize, there thou art sure to reign. But man, more fickle, the bold license claims, In different realms to give thee different names. Thee soft nations round the warm Levant Palanta call, the French of course Polante; E'en in thy native regions, how I blush To hear the Pennsylvanians call thee Mush! On Hudson's banks, while men of Belgic spawn Insult and eat thee by the name suppawn. All spurious appellations, void of truth: I've better known thee from my earliest youth, Thy name is Hasty-Pudding! thus our sires Were wont to greet thee fuming from the fires.

Indignant Man resumes the shaft he gave, Disarms the tyrant, and unbinds the slave, Displays the unclad skeleton of kings, Spectres of power, and serpents without stings.

Hail the mild morning, where the dawn began, The full fruition of the hopes of man. Where sage Experience seals the sacred cause, And that rare union, Liberty and Laws, Speaks to the reas'ning race “to freedom rise, Like them be equal, and like them be wise."

Lords of themselves and leaders of mankind. On equal rights their base of empire lies, On walls of wisdom see the structure rise; Wide o'er the gazing world it towers sublime, A modell'd form for each surrounding clime. To useful toils they bend their noblest aim, Make patriot views and moral views the same, Renounce the wish of war, bid conquest cease, Invite all men to happiness and peace, To faith and justice rear the youthful race, Till Truth's blest banners, o'er the regions hurl'd, Shake tyrants from their thrones, and cheer the waking world.

The gazing crowd, of glittering State afraid, Adore the Power their coward meanness made; In war's short intervals, while regal shows Still blind their reason and insult their woes.

In preparing this work for publication it seems proper to offer some observations explanatory of its design. The classical reader will perceive the obstacles which necessarily presented themselves in reconciling the nature of the subject with such a manner of treating it as should appear the most poetical, and at the same time the most likely to arrive at that degree of dignity and usefulness to which it ought to aspire.

Behold, illumin'd by th' instructive age, That great phenomenon, a Sceptred Sage. There Stanislaus unfolds his prudent plan, Tears the strong bandage from the eyes of man, Points the progressive march, and shapes the way, That leads a realm from darkness into day.

Of these no more. From Orders, Slaves and Kings, To thee, O Man, my heart rebounding springs. Behold th' ascending bliss that waits your call, Heav'n's own bequest, the heritage of all. Awake to wisdom, seize the proffer'd prize; From shade to light, from grief to glory rise. Freedom at last, with Reason in her train, Extends o'er earth her everlasting reign…

In every clime, thy visage greets my eyes, In every tongue thy kindred accents rise; The thought expanding swells my heart with glee, It finds a friend, and loves itself in thee. Say then, fraternal family divine, Whom mutual wants and mutual aids combine, Say from what source the dire delusion rose, That souls like ours were ever made for foes; Why earth's maternal bosom, where we tread, To rear our mansions and receive our bread, Should blush so often for the face she bore, So long be drench'd with floods of filial gore; Why to small realms for ever rest confin'd Our great affections, meant for all mankind. Though climes divide us; shall the stream or sea, That forms a barrier 'twixt my friend and me, Inspire the wish his peaceful state to mar, And meet his falchion in the ranks of war? Not seas, nor climes, nor wild ambition's fire In nations' minds could e'er the wish inspire; Where equal rights each sober voice should guide, No blood would stain them, and no war divide. 'Tis dark deception, 'tis the glare of state, Man sunk in titles, lost in Small and Great; 'Tis Rank, Distinction, all the hell that springs From those prolific monsters, Courts and Kings.