Had fairly this time slipt his Halter,
And, not content all Night to stay
Ty'd up from Fodder, ran away:
After my Guide to ketch him ran,
And so I lost both Horse and Man.
Which Disappointment, tho' so great,
Did only Mirth and Jests create,
Till one more Civil than the rest,
In Conversation for the best,
Observing that for want of Rhoan
I should be left to walk alone,
Most readily did me intreat
To take a Bottle at his Seat,
A Favour at that time so great
I blest my kind propitious Fate.
And Plants eradicated were
By Hurricanes into the air.
There with good Punch and apple Juice
We spent our Hours without abuse,
Till Midnight in her sable Vest
Persuaded Gods and Men to rest,
And with a pleasing kind surprize
Indulg'd soft Slumbers to my Eyes.
Fierce Ethon, courser of the Sun,
Had half his Race exactly run,
And breath'd on me a fiery Ray,
Darting hot Beams, the following Day,
When, snug in Blanket white, I lay;
But Heat and Chinces rais'd the Sinner
Most opportunely to his Dinner:
Wild Fowl and Fish, delicious Meats,
As good as Neptune's Doxy eats,
Began our Hospitable Treat;
Fat Venson follow'd in the Rear,
And Turkies wild Luxurious Chear;
But what the Feast did most commend
Was hearty welcom from my Friend.
SONG OF LOVEWELL'S FIGHT
Of worthy Captain LOVEWELL I purpose now to sing,
How valiantly he served his country and his King:
He and his valiant soldiers did range the woods full wide,
And hardships they endured to quell the Indian's pride.
'T was nigh unto Pigwacket, on the eighth day of May,
They spied a rebel Indian soon after break of day;
He on a bank was walking, upon a neck of land
Which leads into a pond, as we 're made to understand.
Our men resolv'd to have him, and travell'd two miles round
Until they met the Indian, who boldly stood his ground.
Then speaks up Captain LOVEWELL: "Take you good heed," says he; "This rogue is to decoy us, I very plainly see.
"The Indians lie in ambush, in some place nigh at hand, In order to surround us upon this neck of land;
Therefore we 'll march in order, and each man leave his pack,
That we may briskly fight them when they make their attack."
They came unto this Indian, who did them thus defy:
As soon as they came nigh him, two guns he did let fly,
Which wounded Captain LOVEWELL and likewise one man more;
But when this rogue was running, they laid him in his gore.
Then, having scalp'd the Indian, they went back to the spot
Where they had laid their packs down, but there they found them not,
For the Indians, having spy'd them when they them down did lay,
Did seize them for their plunder and carry them away.
These rebels lay in ambush this very place hard by,
So that an English soldier did one of them espy
And cried out, "Here 's an Indian!" With that they started out
As fiercely as old lions, and hideously did shout.
With that our valiant English all gave a loud huzza,
To shew the rebel Indians they fear'd them not a straw.
So now the fight began; and as fiercely as could be
The Indians ran up to them, but soon were forced to flee.
Then spake up Captain LOVEWELL when first the fight began,
"Fight on, my valiant heroes! you see they fall like rain!"
For, as we are inform'd, the Indians were so thick
A man could scarcely fire a gun and not some of them hit.
Then did the rebels try their best our soldiers to surround,
But they could not accomplish it, because there was a pond
To which our men retreated and covered all the rear:
The rogues were forc'd to flee them, altho' they skulked for fear.
Two logs there were behind them that close together lay:
Without being discovered they could not get away;
Therefore our valiant English they travell'd in a row,
And at a handsome distance, as they were wont to go.
'T was ten o'clock in the morning when first the fight begun,
And fiercely did continue until the setting sun,
Excepting that the Indians, some hours before 't was night,
Drew off into the bushes and ceas'd a while to fight.
But soon again returned in fierce and furious mood,
Shouting as in the morning, but yet not half so loud;
For, as we are informed, so thick and fast they fell
Scarce twenty of their number at night did get home well;
And that our valiant English till midnight there did stay,
To see whether the rebels would have another fray;
But, they no more returning, they made off towards their home, 55 And brought away their wounded as far as they could come.
Of all our valiant English there were but thirty-four,
And of the rebel Indians there were about fourscore:
And sixteen of our English did safely home return;
The rest were kill'd and wounded, for which we all must mourn.
Our worthy Captain LOVEWELL among them there did die;
They killed Lieut. ROBBINS, and wounded good young FRYE,
Who was our English Chaplain: he many Indians slew,
And some of them he scalp'd when bullets round him flew.
Young FULLAM, too, I'll mention, because he fought so well-
Endeavouring to save a man, a sacrifice he fell.
But yet our valiant Englishmen in fight were ne'er dismay'd,
But still they kept their motion, and WYMAN 's captain made,
Who shot the old chief PAUGUs, which did the foe defeat;
Then set his men in order, and brought off the retreat;
And, braving many dangers and hardships in the way,
They safe arriv'd at Dunstable the thirteenth day of May.
About 1725.
AN ELEGY ADDRESS'D TO HIS EXCELLENCY
GOVERNOUR BELCHER
ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW, THE HONOURABLE
DANIEL OLIVER, ESQ.
Mindless of Grandieur, from the Crowd he fled,
Sought green Retirements and the silent Shade.
Ye bow'ry Trees which round his Mansion bloom,
Oft ye conceal'd him in your hallow'd Gloom:
Oft he enjoy'd, in your sublime Abode,
His Books, his Innocence, his Friend, his GOD.
Now sad, I wander o'er the lofty Seat
And trace the Mazes of the soft Retreat,
View the fair Prospects, round the Gardens rove,
Bend up the Hill and search the lonely Grove.
But ah, no more his Voice salutes my Ear,
Nor in his Hands the blushing Fruits appear;
Yet is his Image in each Scene convey'd,
And busy Fancy forms his gliding Shade:
I seem to meet him in the flow'ry Walks,
And thro' the Boughs his whispering Spirit talks;
Eager I call, the dear Delusion flies,
Grief seals my Lips and Tears suffuse my Eyes.
O far, far off, above the Ken of these,
The rising Mountain and th' aspiring Trees,
In the gay Bow'rs that crown th' Eternal Hills
His spotless Soul in deathless Pleasure dwells;
Tuneful replies while Choral Seraphs play,
And in bright Visions smiles the Hours away.
He visits now no more this dull Abode,
But talks with Angels, and beholds his GOD.
THE POET'S LAMENTATION FOR THE LOSS
OF HIS CAT
WHICH HE USED TO CALL HIS MUSE
Oppress'd with grief, in heavy strains I mourn
The partner of my studies from me torn.
How shall I sing? what numbers shall I chuse ?
For in my fav'rite cat I've lost my muse.
No more I feel my mind with raptures fir'd,
I want those airs that Puss so oft inspir'd:
No crowding thoughts my ready fancy fill,
Nor words run fluent from my easy quill.
Yet shall my verse deplore her cruel fate,
And celebrate the virtues of my cat.
|