Extracts from "The Life of Hugh Gaine"

Now, if I was ever so given to lie,
My dear native country I would n't deny;
(I know you love Teagucs) and I shall not conceal,
That I came from the kingdom where Phelim
O'Neal
And other brave worthies ate butter and cheese,
And walked in the clover-fields up to their knees:
Full early in youth, without basket or burden,
With a staff in my hand, I pass'd over Jordan,
(I remember, my comrade was Doctor Magraw,
And many strange things on the waters we saw,
Sharks, dolphins and sea dogs, bonettas and whales,
And birds at the tropic, with quills in their tails,)
And came to your city and government seat,
And found it was true, you had something to eat!
When thus I wrote home: "The country is good,
They have plenty of victuals and plenty of wood;
The people are kind, and whate'er they may think,
I shall make it appear lean swim where they'll sink;
And yet they 're so brisk, and so full of good cheer,
By my soul! I suspect they have always New Year,
And, therefore, conceive it is good to be here."
So said, and so acted: I put up a press,
And printed away with amazing success;
Neglected my person and looked like a fright,
Was bothered all day, and was busy all night,
Saw money come in, as the papers went out,
While Parker and Weyman were driving about,
And cursing and swearing and chewing their cuds,
And wishing Hugh Gaine and his press in the suds.
Thus life ran away, so smooth and serene —
Ah! these were the happiest days I had seen!
But the saying of Jacob I've found to be true,
"The days of thy servant are evil and few!"
The days that to me were joyous and glad,
Are nothing to those which are dreary and sad!
The feuds of the stamp act foreboded foul weather,
And war and vexation, all coming together.
Those days were the days of riots and mobs,
Tar, feathers, and tories, and troublesome jobs —
Priests preaching up war for the good of our souls,
And libels, and lying, and liberty-poles,
From which when some whimsical colors you waved
We had nothing to do, but look up and be saved!
But this was the season that I must lament;
I first was a whig, with an honest intent —
Yes, I was a whig, and a whig from my heart —
But still was unwilling with Britain to part.
I thought to oppose her was foolish and vain,
I thought she would turn and embrace us again,
And make us as happy as happy could be,
By renewing the era of mild sixty-three;
And yet, like a cruel, undutiful son,
Who evil returns for the good to be done,
Unmerited odium on Britain to throw,
I printed some treason for Philip Freneatj!
At this time arose a certain king Sears,
Who made it his study to banish our fears.
He was, without doubt, a person of merit,
Great knowledge, some wit, and abundance of spirit,
Could talk like a lawyer, and that without fee,
And threatened perdition to all who drank tea.
Long sermons did he against Scotchmen prepare,
And drank like a German, and drove away care,
Ah !don't you remember what a vigorous hand he put
To drag off the great guns, and plague Captain
Vandeput,
That night when the hero (his patience worn out)
Put fire to his cannon, and folks to the rout,
And drew up his ship with a spring on his cable,
And gave us a second confusion of Babel!.. ..
For my part, I hid in a cellar, (as sages
And Christians were wont, in the primitive ages.)
Yet I hardly could boast of a moment of rest,
The dogs were a howling, the town was distrest
From this very day till the British came in,
"We lived, I may say, in the Desert of Sin; ...
We townsmen, like women, of Britons in dread.
Mistrusted their meaning, and foolishly fled;
Like the rest of the dunces, I mounted my steed,
And galloped away with incredible speed;
To Newark I hastened — but trouble and care
Got up on the crupper, and followed me there! ....
So, after remaining one cold winter season,
And stuffing my papers with something like treason,
I, cursing my folly and idle pursuits,
Returned to the city and hung up my boots! ....