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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115042" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Miss M. V. W</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peggy, amidst domestic cares to rhyme<br>I find no pleasure, and I find no time;<br>But then, a Poetess, you may suppose,<br>Can better tell her mind in verse than prose:<br>True---when serenely all our moments roll,<br>Then numbers flow spontaneous from the soul:<br>Not when the mind is harrassed by cares,<br>Or stunn'd with thunders of intestine wars,<br>Or circled by a noisy, vulgar throng,<br>(Noise ever was an enemy to song.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What tho' the spiral pines around us rise,<br>And airy mountains intercept the skies,<br>Faction has chac'd away the warbling Muse,<br>And Echo only learns to tattle news,<br>Each clown commences politician here,<br>And calculates th' expences of the year;<br>He quits his plow, and throws aside his spade,<br>To talk with squire about decrease of trade:<br>His tedious spouse detains me in her turn,<br>Condemns our measures and neglects her churn.<br>Scarce can I steal a moment from the wars<br>To read my Bible, or to say my pray'rs:<br>Oh! how I long to see those halcyon days<br>When Peace again extends to us her rays,<br>When each, beneath his vine, and far from fear,<br>Shall beat his sword into a lab'ring share.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then shall the rural arts again revive,<br>Ceres shall bid the famish'd rustic live:<br>Where now the yells of painted sons of blood<br>With long vibrations shake the lonely wood,<br>All desolate, Pomona shall behold<br>The branches shoot with vegetable gold;<br>Beyond the peasant's sight the springing grain<br>Shall wave around him o'er the ample plain;<br>No engines then shall bellow o'er the waves,<br>And fright blue Thetis in her coral caves,<br>But commerce gliding o'er the curling seas,<br>Shall bind the sever'd shores in ties of peace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Washington, reclining on his spear,<br>Shall take a respite from laborious war,<br>While Glory on his brows with awful grace<br>Binds a tiara of resplendent rays.<br>How faint the lustre of imperial gems<br>To this immortal wreath his merit claims!<br>See from the north, where icy mountains rise,<br>Down to the placid climes of southern skies,<br>All hail the day that bids stern discord cease,<br>All hail the day which gives the warrior peace:<br>Hark! the glad nations make a joyful noise!<br>And the loud shouts are answer'd from the skies;<br>Fame swells the sound wrapt in her hero's praise,<br>And darts his splendors down to latest days.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ann+Eliza+Bleecker">Ann Eliza Bleecker</a> from <i>The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115042" data-title="To Miss M. V. W de Ann Eliza Bleecker" data-description="Peggy, amidst domestic cares to rhyme/I find no pleasure, and I find no time;/But then, a Poetess, you may suppose,/Can better tell her mind in verse than prose:/True---when serenely all our moments roll,/Then numbers flow spontaneous from the sou..."></div>
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