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John Barlow hymn on author Joel Barlow


  • amity
    Feb 25 12:31 PM 2006
    Reply
    Greetings! Can anyone give a source for the following, attributed to Joel Barlow, and possibly an Americanized version of Isaac Watts?

    Great God! attend to my complaint,
    Nor let my drooping spirit faint;
    When foes in secret spread the snare,
    Let my salvation be thy care.

    It currently appears in the Cooper version of the Sacred Harp as hymn #264t.

    Thank you!

  • I-Like-Rhymes
    July 8, 2006
    Reply
    The sacred harp is my only source for this.

  • Application Void
    February 22, 2007
    Reply
    Some poems not on Joel Barlow's page:

    Advice To A Raven In Russia (1812)

    Black fool, why winter here? These frozen skies,
    Worn by your wings and deafen'd by your cries,
    Should warn you hence, where milder suns invite,
    And day alternates with his mother night.
    You fear perhaps your food will fail you there,
    Your human carnage, that delicious fare
    That lured you hither, following still your friend
    The great Napoleon to the world's bleak end.
    You fear, because the southern climes pour'd forth
    Their clustering nations to infest the north,
    Barvarians, Austrians, those who Drink the Po
    And those who skirt the Tuscan seas below,
    With all Germania, Neustria, Belgia, Gaul,
    Doom'd here to wade thro slaughter to their fall,
    You fear he left behind no wars, to feed
    His feather'd canibals and nurse the breed.
    Fear not, my screamer, call your greedy train,
    Sweep over Europe, hurry back to Spain,

    You'll find his legions there; the valliant crew
    Please best their master when they toil for you.
    Abundant there they spread the country o'er
    And taint the breeze with every nation's gore,
    Iberian, Lussian, British widely strown,
    But still more wide and copious flows their own.
    Go where you will; Calabria, Malta, Greece,
    Egypt and Syria still his fame increase,
    Domingo's fatten'd isle and India's plains
    Glow deep with purple drawn from Gallic veins.
    No Raven's wing can stretch the flight so far
    As the torn bandrols of Napoleon's war.
    Choose then your climate, fix your best abode,
    He'll make you deserts and he'll bring you blood.
    How could you fear a dearth? have not mankind,
    Tho slain by millions, millions left behind?
    Has not CONSCRIPTION still the power to weild
    Her annual faulchion o'er the human field?
    A faithful harvester! or if a man
    Escape that gleaner, shall he scape the BAN?

    The triple BAN, that like the hound of hell
    Gripes with three joles, to hold his victim well.
    Fear nothing then, hatch fast your ravenous brood,
    Teach them to cry to Bonaparte for food;
    They'll be like you, of all his suppliant train,
    The only class that never cries in vain.
    For see what mutual benefits you lend!
    (The surest way to fix the mutual friend)
    While on his slaughter'd troops your tribes are fed,
    You cleanse his camp and carry off his dead.
    Imperial Scavenger! but now you know
    Your work is vain amid these hills of snow.
    His tentless troops are marbled thro with frost
    And change to crystal when the breath is lost.
    Mere trunks of ice, tho limb'd like human frames
    And lately warm'd with life's endearing flames,
    They cannot taint the air, the world impest,
    Nor can you tear one fiber from their breast.
    No! from their visual sockets, as they lie,
    With beak and claws you cannot pluck an eye.
    The frozen orb, preserving still its form,
    Defies your talons as it braves the storm,
    But stands and stares to God, as if to know
    In what curst hands he leaves his world below.
    Fly then, or starve; tho all the dreadful road
    From Minsk to Moskow with their bodies strow'd
    May count some Myriads, yet they can't suffice
    To feed you more beneath these dreary skies.
    Go back, and winter in the wilds of Spain;
    Feast there awhile, and in the next campaign
    Rejoin your master; for you'll find him then,
    With his new million of the race of men,
    Clothed in his thunders, all his flags unfurl'd,
    Raging and storming o'er the prostrate world.
    War after war his hungry soul requires,
    State after State shall sink beneath his fires,
    Yet other Spains in victim smoke shall rise
    And other Moskows suffocate the skies,
    Each land lie reeking with its people's slain
    And not a stream run bloodless to the main.
    Till men resume their souls, and dare to shed
    Earth's total vengeance on the monster's head,
    Hurl from his blood-built throne this king of woes,
    Dash him to dust, and let the world repose.



    Reference THE NEW OXFORD BOOK OF AMERICAN VERSE. - PAGE 28 - ELLMANN, RICHARD (ED.)
    Reference THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE: VOLUME 1 - PAGE 837
    Reference AMERICAN POETRY: THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. VOLUME 1. PHILIP FRENEAU TO WALT WHITMAN. - PAGE 24 - HOLLANDER, JOHN (ED.)
    Reference AMERICAN POETS, 1630-1930. - PAGE 34 - VAN DOREN, MARK (ED.)
    Reference THE OXFORD BOOK OF WAR POETRY. - PAGE 84 - STALLWORTHY, JON (ED.)

    --

    On the Discoveries of Captain Lewis (January 14, 1807)

    LET the Nile cloak his head in the clouds, and defy
    The researches of science and time;
    Let the Niger escape the keen traveller's eye,
    By plunging or changing his clime.

    Columbus! not so shall thy boundless domain
    Defraud thy brave sons of their right;
    Streams, midlands, and shorelands elude us in vain.
    We shall drag their dark regions to light.

    Look down, sainted sage, from thy synod of Gods;
    See, inspired by thy venturous soul,
    Mackenzie roll northward his earth-draining floods,
    And surge the broad waves to the pole.

    With the same soaring genius thy Lewis ascends,
    And, seizing the car of the sun,
    O'er the sky-propping hills and high waters he bends,
    And gives the proud earth a new zone.

    Potowmak, Ohio, Missouri had felt
    Half her globe in their cincture comprest;
    His long curving course has completed the belt,
    And tamed the last tide of the west.

    Then hear the loud voice of the nation proclaim,
    And all ages resound the decree:
    Let our occident stream bear the young hero's name,
    Who taught him his path to the sea.

    These four brother floods, like a garland of flowers,
    Shall entwine all our states in a band
    Conform and confederate their wide-spreading powers,
    And their wealth and their wisdom expand.

    From Darien to Davis one garden shall bloom,
    Where war's weary banners are furl'd,
    And the far scenting breezes that waft its perfume,
    Shall settle the storms of the world.

    Then hear the loud voice of the nation proclaim
    And all ages resound the decree:
    Let our occident stream bear the young hero's name,
    Who taught him his path to the sea.



    Reference POEMS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. - PAGE 341 - STEVENSON, BURTON EGBERT (ED.)
    Reference AMERICAN HISTORY IN VERSE; FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. - PAGE 188 - STEVENSON, BURTON (COMP. & ED.)



    Note: 2 spaces every 2nd and 4th line of each verse

    --

    The First American Congress

    COLUMBUS looked; and still around them spread,
    From south to north, th' immeasurable shade;
    At last, the central shadows burst away,
    And rising regions open'd on the day.
    He saw, once more, bright Del'ware's silver stream,
    And Penn's throng'd city cast a cheerful gleam;
    The dome of state, that met his eager eye,
    Now heav'd its arches in a loftier sky.
    The bursting gates unfold: and lo, within,
    A solemn train in conscious glory shine.
    The well-known forms his eye had trac'd before,
    In diff'rent realms along th' extended shore;
    Here, grac'd with nobler fame, and rob'd in state,
    They look'd and mov'd magnificently great.
    High on the foremost seat, in living light,
    Majestic Randolph caught the hero's sight:
    Fair on his head, the civic crown was plac'd,
    And the first dignity his sceptre grac'd.
    He opes the cause, and points in prospect far,
    Thro' all the toils that wait th' impending war --
    But, hapless sage, thy reign must soon be o'er,
    To lend thy lustre, and to shine no more.
    So the bright morning star, from shades of ev'n,
    Leads up the dawn, and lights the front of heav'n,
    Points to the waking world the sun's broad way,
    Then veils his own, and shines above the day.
    And see great Washington behind thee rise,
    Thy following sun, to gild our morning skies;
    O'er shadowy climes to pour the enliv'ning flame,
    The charms of freedom and the fire of fame.
    Th' ascending chief adorn'd his splendid seat,
    Like Randolph, ensign'd with a crown of state;
    Where the green patriot bay beheld, with pride,
    The hero's laurel springing by its side;
    His sword, hung useless, on his graceful thigh,
    On Britain still he cast a filial eye;
    But sov'reign fortitude his visage bore,
    To meet their legions on th' invaded shore.
    Sage Franklin next arose, in awful mien,
    And smil'd, unruffled, o'er th' approaching scene;
    High, on his locks of age, a wreath was brac'd,
    Palm of all arts, that e'er a mortal grac'd;
    Beneath him lies the sceptre kings have borne,
    And crowns and laurels from their temples torn.
    Nash, Rutledge, Jefferson, in council great,
    And Jay and Laurens op'd the rolls of fate.
    The Livingstons, fair Freedom's gen'rous band,
    The Lees, the Houstons, fathers of the land,
    O'er climes and kingdoms turn'd their ardent eyes,
    Bade all th' oppressed to speedy vengeance rise;
    All pow'rs of state, in their extended plan,
    Rise from consent to shield the rights of man.
    Bold Wolcott urg'd the all-important cause;
    With steady hand the solemn scene he draws;
    Undaunted firmness with his wisdom join'd,
    Nor kings nor worlds could warp his stedfast mind.
    Now, graceful rising from his purple throne,
    In radiant robes, immortal Hosmer shone;
    Myrtles and bays his learned temples bound,
    The statesman's wreath, the poet's garland crown'd:
    Morals and laws expand his liberal soul,
    Beam from his eyes, and in his accents roll.
    But lo! an unseen hand the curtain drew,
    And snatch'd the patriot from the hero's view;
    Wrapp'd in the shroud of death, he sees descend
    The guide of nations and the muses' friend.
    Columbus dropp'd a tear. The angel's eye
    Trac'd the freed spirit mounting thro' the sky.
    Adams, enrag'd, a broken charter bore,
    And lawless acts of ministerial pow'r;
    Some injur'd right in each loose leaf appears,
    A king in terrors and a land in tears;
    From all the guileful plots the veil he drew,
    With eye retortive look'd creation through;
    Op'd the wide range of nature's boundless plan,
    Trac'd all the steps of liberty and man;
    Crowds rose to vengeance while his accents rung,
    And Independence thunder'd from his tongue.



    Reference POEMS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. - PAGE 273 - STEVENSON, BURTON EGBERT (ED.)

    --

    I give you these because he's a writer who should be well-known when he actually isn't.



    • I-Like-Rhymes
      February 23, 2007
      Reply
      Also just added Visions of Columbus, all 9 sections.
      This guy really enjoyed LONG poems
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