Philip Bevan -- Minor Poet of
Ohio 213
Although Bevan's verse was modeled
after the Eng-
lish school and so was representative
of that period of
imitation in poetry which possessed
American poets at
the opening of the nineteenth century,
his frank avowal
of love for the new nation and his
delight in the beauty
of the frontier states are reason
enough to mark him as
one of the important members of the
minor school.
Then, too, the reprinting of
"America" will preserve the
contents of what is now a rare book and
will give to the
historian of American literature
another memento
which might otherwise be lost. This
text is printed
from photostatic copy without
intentional emendations.
AMERICA
ARGUMENT.
Apostrophe to the name of America, and
its associations with Columbus--
The New England Fathers--Washington and
the worthies of the Revo-
lution--The influence of its
institutions, manners, and advantages upon
the people of Europe, and the world--The
prospects which they open
to the different tastes and pursuits of
men--The backwoodsmen and
hunter--The solitary, and lover of
Nature--The husbandman--The
patriarch--The evangelist, and honest
exiles of every grade and nation
--The unparalleled emigration, and the
success and happiness of the
new settlers, exceeding even the dreams
of poets--Concluding address.
Is there a name of nation, or of clime,
That sounds above all other names
sublime?
That is a chaunt on every freeman's
tongue,
That is a theme by every poet sung:
Sweeter than music's voice that flies
around
This woe-worn world, wherever man is
bound:
That calls to partial life degenerate
slaves
Crouching around their fathers' classic
graves,
As if Leonidas and Brutus woke
From ruin'd sepulchres, and once more
spoke?
Is there a watchword that has never
fail'd
To bring relief and victory where 'tis
hail'd--
That exiled Poland echoes with a sigh,
And looks to heaven and clasps her
swordless thigh?
Say, can the world produce that name,
that land,
214 Ohio Arch. and Hist. Society Publications
Does it upon the list of nations stand?
Where court is wanting, where no princes
shine--
America! that name, that land is thine--
Where all are sovereigns, where each man
keeps court--
His own good arms his guardians and
support--
Where all united, like the sea at rest,
Strength slumbers peaceful on the public
breast;
Where, all awakened, like the sea would
break,
Each to heave mountains on the foeman's
neck--
All that is great and lovely crowd to
raise
Thy starry banner, and record thy
praise;
And naught degraded, pitiful, or tame,
Can hide itself beside thy mighty name--
For in that word, thy southern clime
forgot,
Is veil'd from sight, an undistinguished
spot:
Forgot her gold and gems, and ancient
pride,
As Andes sink by Alleghany's side.
Soon as we think upon thee, to our sight
What forms arise, what matchless scenes
invite!
Columbus comes: amidst the blackening
storm--
Amidst the Atlantic's foam we see his
form;
His prow is heaving with the billowy
swell,
His arm is stretched as if its rage to
quell,
Or bind the winds within the swelling
sheet--
Or awe the dastard shipmen at his fleet;
Or yet more true, 'midst waves, and
treason's roar
To grasp the hop'd, yet undiscovered
shore.
And say, kind heaven, shall that bold
man turn back
Vex'd and disheartened, on his homeward
track!
Say! shall he live till now for one
great scheme
To toil and pant, yet find it all a
dream;
And backward sail, or downward sink, in
vain,
To fathom, if not span, the wrathful
main!
Not so--the rockweeds cling around the
bow
To greet his eyes amid the surf below;
And now! the wandering birds fly out in
haste
To scan the stranger from the watery
waste--
Then land appears,--and all his toils
are past.
Who next advance? sedate, white--headed
sires,
Serene as snowy Alps with moonlit
spires--
Again 'tis ocean brings, with angry
mien--
Though gentle woman on the deck is seen.
Hail! holy group! ye float as safely
here
As Noah's family, to heaven as dear--
And like them come, with flag of peace
unfurled
Philip Bevan -- Minor Poet of
Ohio 215
To plant a nobler race--a better world.
The painted Indians through the forest's
maze(a)
In scattered groups, bewildered,
stealthful gaze.
These pallid forms are o'er the waters
come,
Perchance to call them to their spirit
home:
As once before the Hebrew monarch stood
Stern Samuel's ghost--and chilled the
warrior's blood.
These shadows rise, and lift the veil
for more,
That o'er the stage in rapid conflict
pour--
Bold Kosciusko shakes his dazzling
lance--
Impetuous charges young Fayette of
France;
Around the steed that carries through
the war,
Thy Washington, like meteors round a
star.
So fancy bids this brilliant throng
increase,
To wreathe America, thy frontispiece:
Unrivalled, beautiful, as ever prest
The meed of glory on a nation's crest.
Nor is the pageant silent--o'er the
group
High towering see a giant figure stoop--
The red man's spirit, or the white man's
guide;
Still the same guardian of the patriot
tide--
Spirit of old that from her wilds awoke,
And then, as now, of naught but freedom
spoke;
From all her woods and plains and
heights she calls,
From all her rivers and her waterfalls.
Welcome thy name, thy wilderness to one
Who will not bow where freedom has no throne;
But here can worship, and may kiss her
feet,
Thus to be lifted to her highest seat--
And wear her mantle gay, and blithesome
rove
Where roves the wild deer through the
open grove,
Like the mad torrent, wood bird, or the
wind--
Untrammeled, unimpeded, unconfined:
Perchance the Nimrod of his day to go,
Careering o'er the waste with gun and
bow
To strike the bison in his thundering
course,
Or stately elk, or tame the fiery horse,
Or choose from dappled herds the
choicest game--
A Robin Hood without a robber's name.
Or is he gloomy with romantic thought,
Here he can nest him in a fav'rite spot,
In shady valley, or deep cleft ravine ;(b)
Like a rude gash on nature's visage
seen--
Down in the gorge, while high on either
side
Earth's granite teeth and dreadful jaws
are spied,
216 Ohio Arch. and Hist. Society Publications
As if in frolic, she had tried to quaff
The tempest clouds, then frozen to a
laugh--
Or scored her bosom for some pent up
stream
To run and frolic in the bright
sunbeam--
Where he may see the lonely Indian come
Yearly to weep above his father's tomb,
And turn in agony and anger round
If impious hands have torn the hallowed
mound--
Is independence sought; and wealth and
ease,
Lo! in his farm a rich domain he sees;
Like Eve, unconscious of her
loveliness,(c)
Untrimmed and luscious in her native
dress,
With sunny meads and glades and bosky
shade,
With rills and streams, with fruits and
flowers glad,
Where rivulets steal from grassy knolls,
and spring
To join the brooks that through the
meadows sing--
Where glossy wild fowl mate and swim at
will,
Beneath the sheltering willows feeding
still.
Whose banks invite the traveller, and
spread
Around his feet ripe berries rich and
red;
Where plum and cherry in luxuriance
twine,
With currant, gooseberry, and purpled
vine.
Here no tall domes shall intercept the
sun
Before his casement, when the day's
begun,
Or chariot rolling home or jarring
trade,
Or wrangling citizens his rest invade.
With less dislike he hears the wolf
arise
When evening lowers, or night-hawks
piercing cries--
His threshold's haunted by no haggard
poor,
His granary asks for bolts and locks no
more,
No hungry tax-men, in continuous train,
With book and inkhorn come and come
again:
No landlord stalks insidious, clothed
with smiles,
Corruptions' tool, dissembles and
beguiles--
Once in three years familiar--asks your
vote;
How many cattle, children, or what not--
Perchance repulsed, to turn his heel and
say
Know how to vote, or how to trudge away.
Here plenty smiles beyond Nile's famous
vales,
Or Babel's plains, or Syracusian dales;
Here stature, vigor, like to Anak old;(d)
Freedom, abundance, health, their gifts
unfold.
Is he a patriarch, hither let him come,
And lead his children to their forest
home.
Like Job or Abraham plant his altar
fire,
Philip Bevan -Minor Poet of Ohio 217
And build his dwelling as the flames
aspire:
Around that house shall joy and beauty
spring,
And love divine extend her guardian
wing.
Come, honest exiles, from your highland
glen,
Your misty lochs and heather--stalwart
men;
Come, if your heart for independence
pants,
Come and receive the blessings freedom
grants.
Thy havens gained, in thousands
scattering wide,
Like Greeks on Trojan sands the bands
divide--
Run to the woods, the streams, the
fields, and sea,
And dance and shout, and feel, thank
heaven, they're free;
Whilst Europe's monarchs tremble on
their thrones,
And dash, enraged, their crowns against
the stones ;(e)
To see their subjects, once a busy
train,
Desert their fields and marts, and seek
the main;
Sweep o'er the flood, nor cast a look
behind,
Till in thy arms, with happiness
entwined:
Reckless though kings and counsellors
should wait
To drag alone the empty car of state--
Then to their sturdy blows the forests
bend:
The mountains melt away; the streams
ascend;
Surly the wolf and bear begin their
flight,
Rousing their slumb'ring cubs in dead of
night.
The astonish'd Indian fled his hunting
ground,
Upon some neighb'ring mountain turns him
round--
Green on his trail the rising crop he
sees,
With smoking cottages among the trees,
Majestic rivers bear the teeming grain,
And fatted kine to meet the distant
main--
Wide cities springing from their fertile
shores,
Like thrifty willows, budding walls and
towers;
Contentment sits on every happy face;
Bluff independence gives each man a
grace.
Come, legislators, famed for every plan,
And law, and scheme, to guide dull
erring man;
Tell us how much your foresight could
devise
To bid this good unparalleled arise;
Or why in all your systems framed of
yore,
Ye had not given to men such plan
before--
Not pious More in stiff Utopian dress,(f)
Chivalric Sidney in his pensiveness ;(g)
Cambrian! embosomed in your mountain
vale,
To you she cries--swift o'er the billows
sail.
Switzer, that dreams of liberty and
Tell,
Hasten and join her paans lofty swell:
218 Ohio Arch. and Hist. Society Publications
Tell us how Winkelried and Zuingle died,
Where lov'd Lewellyn o'er his Cambria
sigh'd;
Tell us how Wallace liv'd, and what hill
stone
Is witness to the covenanter's groan;
And round our raptured children cast the
spell
Of storied melody, that pleases well.
Come ye, whose feet are beautiful, afar
Upon the hills as morning's early star;
With words of life, and light to calm
our fears;
Come with your fervid eloquence, and
tears.
Tell us of him, the lowly man, who went
About our world, and thirty long years
spent;
Who more than hero, more than conq'ror
gave
His soul to death, and baulk'd the cruel
grave.
Come tell us of his griefs, and lead our
love
To fasten on that friend of friends
above;
Come and we'll sit beneath the leafy
shade,
And gently listen to the tidings sad--
We'll sing with you, and pray, and read
and weep,
And worship that great Shepherd of the
sheep.
Nor vain the call: look o'er the crowded
deep,
Athwart the waves that lofty navies
sweep?
The winds sing jocund, as they bear them
on,
Seas rock them nobly on their glassy
throne.
See! Britain pours her enterprise and
wealth,
Holland and Germany their lusty health--
From Gallia wit; from rich Italia spring
Bright forms of art, e'en beauty's self
takes wing--
The seas are fann'd with swelling canvas
white,
As ocean's daughters that convoy their
flight;
Nor Coleridge dreaming by his Avon's
side.(h)
Such picture drew with fancy for their
guide:
Bard, sage, philosopher of every land,
Confess their wonder, and admiring stand
To own the scheme divine, by heaven
planned.
These were the scenes that led my feet
to stray
Far from my native fields and rills
away;
Yet not in dudgeon fled my native home,
Nor without farewell crossed the ocean
foam:
Cancelled my portion of her storied
fame,
The boast and glory of her ancient name;
Although her subject, liege I could not
sign,
Nor bow to sceptre other than divine;
But tearful parted, happily to land
With ready welcome on thy lovely strand,
Philip Bevan -- Minor Poet of Ohio 219
Where gratitude and love inspire the
song
And truth sincere is waiting on my tongue;
Nor should I mourn, though bitterly for
me,
The price is paid, to gain a home with
thee.
A joyous girl that followed in her pride,
Lies in her grave, by yonder green hill
side;
Quench'd the rich lustre of her beaming
eye,
Hushed the sweet voice that still seems
ling'ring nigh:--
Yet's she not dead, for still she comes
by night
To soothe my dreams: a spirit cloth'd in
light;
And when my spirit flies, her angel hand
Shall guide me home to a celestial land.
'Tis better thus, if life's brief tide
appears
Like Babel's stream, a channel for our
tears,
To hang our harps, and lay our wearied
head
Within the friendly bosom thou hast
spread,
Than broken-hearted, friendless, to sink
down
Beneath the scorn of pride, or envy's
frown.
America I love, as one that loves
A friendly shelter, when he houseless
roves:
America is mine, if she'll receive
The humble name I all ingenious give.
America I view, as one that views
A noble lion wet with spangled dews:
But, as he rises from his morning lair,
A gilded serpent curls around him
there--
I see a giant, like Delilah's, bound
With silken cords, his locks still
flowing round;
I see the sun stained on his golden
shield,
The silver moon shows a discolored
field;
Yet why should one of all thy rivers
bear
To ocean's salty waves the captive's
tear?
Why in thy rich savannahs, evergreen,
Around a human form are fetters seen,
Hast thou not wealth and power to burst
the chain,
To cast the captive's fetters in the
main:
And purchase thee a diadem more bright
Than blazing Phoebus or the queen of
night.
Let not earth's despots point across the
wave,
And say my song of freedom mocks the
slave;
And when the chaunt of liberty goes by
Let no sad captive with a groan reply,
Thus Herbert sung by Mississippi's side,
And tun'd his numbers to the silver tide
Above where red Missouri rolls along
220 Ohio Arch. and Hist. Society Publications
His turbid current, burst this artless
song.
The waters listened and around his
feet(i)
Rolled crimson agates for a tribute
meet;
Green islands seemed uplifted from the
wave
To not applause; the winds forgot to
rave:
Glad spirits rustled round his lov'd
one's tomb,
And from her dust bright lilies seemed
to bloom.
NOTES.
(a) A pestilence had preceded the coming
of the Pilgrim fathers, and
they encamped, after landing, near' a burial
place, where the bodies of the
dead had been interred by the Indians.
And it is remarkable that by war
and disease nearly all the tribes have
since been carried off in that part
of the country.
(b) This is a sketch of natural scenery in the northern part of Iowa,
and Illinois. The circumstance of the
Indians is also taken from life.
(c) The writer has many scenes in his "mind's
eye," in which all these
beauties and excellences are clustered,
although some people might think
he is dreaming of Arcadia.
(d) The stature of the people in many parts of the western states
strikes an European as being very
superior.
(e) It was rumored in the public papers, about the middle
of last
summer, that four of the sovereigns of
Europe, were about to abdicate their
thrones. And also that some districts in
Germany had been depopulated
by the emigration of their inhabitants.
Now the reality has taken place,
the monarch of one of the most powerful
governments in Europe has
been obliged to fly, with his family,
from his throne and kingdom. Sev-
eral other sovereigns appear to be in
nearly the same predicament.
(f) Sir Thomas More, author of the "Utopia," was
an excellent and
pious man in the reign of Henry VIII, by
whom he was beheaded, be-
cause his pious integrity stood in the
way of the tyrant.
(g) Sir Philip Sidney, author of the "Arcadia" has been immor-
talized by his conduct at the battle of
Zutphen; when severely wounded, and
fainting for water, he took the draught
from his parching lips to present it
to a poor soldier who was carried by
wounded, and who looked wistfully
at the precious beverage. Some of his
last words display his tenderness,
friendship and fortitude--they are
contained in a letter to his physician:
MY WIERE:--Veni, Veni, de vita
periclitor, et te cupio. Nec vivus
nec mortuus ero ingratus. Pluris, non
possum, sed obnixe te oro, ut festines.
(h) It is well known that Southey, Coleridge, and others,
contem-
plated coming into the American
wilderness, and forming a republic, or
society, upon an ideal plan.