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No threats impede; no fears appal;
And stands for each a ready pledge.
Which yawn'd their prey to catch,
To save the hope-deserted wretch.
Safe ransom'd from the block ! Redeemed from homicidal arms, There see fair Beauty's softer charms
Rescued from many a ruffian shock.
With spirit so benign,
By Providence's care divine.
Copy what they behold,
Hearts now indeed no longer cold.
Thine altar long shall smoke;
Of laurel mix'd with civic oak.
Pursue Atrides' path!
In sight of all their works of death.
Yes! it is transient as the spark
Is made to disappear;
The unresisting atmosphere.
Has, since thy life began,
Befriend the family of man.
For children, ages hence,
TE RECLUSE. Seminary Range, Ohio.)
FOR THE PORT FOLIO-THE MANIAC.
Hark! the Maniac fiercely raging,
Howls his sorrows to the wind,
Nought can ease his phrenzied mind.
While his eyes, in terror roll,
Marking thus his varied soul.
Hear the far-fetch'd groans of horror
Issuing from his throbbing breasts
See those pallid cheeks of sorrow,
And those limbs which know no rest.
Once, those eyes were fraught with pleasure,
Once, those cheeks were coral red,
These more treacherous beauties fled.
Once, proud Fortune on him smiled,
And bright Hope his thoughts did train;
“ Maddening fury" seiz'd his brain.
Now he roams poor and unfriended,
None his wayward steps to guide,
All his wants are unsupply'd.
So speak those tatter'd garments on him,
And his shaggy matted hair,
FOR THE PORT FOLIO.
Lines written on a blank leaf of “Downman's Infancy”-a didactic Poem, pre
sented to a lady a few weeks after her marriage.
If, much lov'd fair! who late with tremb’ling foot,
With prattling pledges of your mutual love;
With ample recompense for all your care.
FOR THE PORT FOLIO-INDIAN ELOQUENCE.
General John S. Eustace, with whom I was intimately acquainted for some time previous to his death, and who formerly held a major general's commission in the French armies, gave me the following as a genuine copy of the celebrated speech of Logan, the Mingo chief. He informed me that he was acquainted wit": lord Dunmore in Virginia, and frequently an inmate of his house, and that the speech, as I now send it to you, was presented to him personally by lord Dunmore.
I do not consider myself an accurate judge of Indian eloquence, yet it appears to me, that the speech, as published by Mr. Jefferson, is not worthy of those high encomiums which he bestows
I leave it with you to judge of the correctness of my opinion.
Yours, &c. Luzerne, September ilth, 1810.
Speech of Logan, a Mlingo chief, before lord Dunmore, formerly
governor of Virginia. My cabin, since first I had one of my own, has ever been oper to any white man, who wanted shelter: my spoils of hunting, since first I began to range these woods, have I ever freely imparted to appease his hunger and clothe his nakedness; but, what have I seen? what! but that at my return at night, and laden with spoil, my numerous family lie bleeding on the ground, by the hands of those who had found my little hut a certain refuge from the inclement storm; who had eaten my food, and covered themselves with my skins: what have I seen? what! but that those dear little mouths, for which I had sweated the live-long day, when I returned at eve to fill them, had not one word to thank me for my toil!
What could I resolve upon? my blood boiled within me, and my heart leapt up to my mouth, nevertheless I bid my tomahawk be quiet, and lic at rest for that war, because I thought the great men of your country sent them not to do it. Not long afterwards, some of your men invited our tribe to cross the river and bring their venison with them; they, unsuspicious of design, came as they had been invited; the white men then made them drunk, killed them, and turned their knives even against the women. Was not my sister among them? was she not scalped by the hands of that man, whom she had taught how to escape his enemies, when they were scenting out his track? What could I resolve upon? my blood now boiled thrice hotter than before, and thrice again my heart leapt up to my mouth, no longer did I bid
my tomahawk be quiet, and lie at rest, for that war, because I no longer thought the great men of your country sent them not to do it. I sprang from my cabin to avenge their blood, which I have fully done this war, by shedding yours from your coldest to your hottest sun; thus revenged I am now for peace, and have advised most of my countrymen to be so too-nay! what is more,