The gazing crowd, of glittering State afraid, Adore the Power their coward meanness made; In war's short intervals, while regal shows Still blind the… - Joel Barlow

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.

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.

He open'd calm the universal cause, To give each realm its limit and its laws, Bid the last breath of tired contention cease, And bind all regions in the leagues of peace; Till one confederate, condependent sway Spread with the sun and bound the walks of day, One centred system, one all-ruling soul Live thro the parts and regulate the whole.