PATRONS! once more the song I raise,
In memory of departed days;
And still, with heart-felt prayer sincere,
To ask for you a bless'd NEW-YEAR:
Returning on this merry morn,
By hope and honest zeal upborne,
I come with light, industrious tread,
Herald of time forever fled!
And oh! may you attend my creed -
Read ten short lines and say - "good speed!"
Still may I sing in numbers bold,
(What oft our true GAZETTE hath told)
That free Columbia may defy
All power that rules beneath the sky;
May smile at tyrants' vain alarms -
Despise a gather'd world in arms,
While Heaven decrees the fav'ring gale
To strain the brace and fill the sail,
While Commerce, in our councils great,
Guides with firm hand the ship of State!
Yes! Merchants, though the parted year
To some was fraught with doubt and fear,
Though prophets rose - self-taught, self-wise -
Predicting wreck with lengthened sighs;
Though some who, in their secret hearts,
Are foes to Commerce, Freedom, Arts;
With dubious feeling, grovelling aim,
Foretold disunion, ruin, shame!
Yet NEW-YEAR shoots its joyous light,
O'er social bands and fire-sides bright:
A sea of time most nobly past,
Our ship is anchor'd safe and fast,
Her topsails furl'd - her pendants free -
All, all on shore is mirth and glee!
May prophets climb on icy shrouds,
Or smother in their native clouds,
Who hypocrites in wail adn ruth,
Would steal one spotless leaf from truth:
Or agitate the public mind
With woes foreseen that died in - wind!
Now briefly we'll review the time
Since last I gave my news in rhyme.
A glorious year for fallen Spain!
Her slavish bands are rent in twain.
Her skies are brighter, for she's free,
And bloodless was the victory!
May she, by sage experience taught,
The value learn of lib'bral thought;
By honour, justice nobly sway'd,
Respect the sacred laws of trade;
Guard public faith with patriot pride -
And sanction treaties ratified!
Still France, like calm and lucid sea,
That past the storm, sleeps peacefully,
Through all her various, rich domains,
In proud and happy state remains:
And though with cold, mistaken aim,
With stubborn zeal that stains her name,
She suts 'gainst us her glowing heart,
Taught by restriction's baneful art,
Too great by foreign cause to fall -
The slaves of none - the friends of all,
We whisper France to pause between -
We wish her well for what she's been!
And Britain, though her hundred climes -
The wonder still of modern times!
Trembles with hope, or doubt, or fear,
As glooms or cheering lights appear;
While round one woman, weak and lone,
Frown the dark terrors of a throne!
Who, that can feel one human thrill,
But, should she fall, would pity still
That woman who a stranger came -
The orphan of a glorious name,
'Mid foreign scenes and hearts to dwell -
Far from the home she lov'd so well;
Yet, ere few dizzy hours had fled,
Found hope - in cold affection - dead -
Was doom'd, in guileless youth, to roam
The rude, wide world to find a home? -
But, though 'tis meet in Custom's rhyme,
To immortalize with strain sublime,
The small events of time and place -
The lowest of the mortal race!
We'll not another type devote,
Nor swell one sadly weeping note,
To consecrate in deathless guise,
What plain republicans despise!
Our happy land shall still obtain
Our truest, our sincerest strain!
Yes! while her boundless fields display
Their tenfold harvest to the day;
While, with light heart and heavy hand
Our farmers in their stations stand;
While Commerce from her fav'rite realm,
Fair ruler of the unerring helm!
Glides through the seas, with flag unfurl'd,
Scatt'ring our treasurers o'er the world,
While years like this whose death we sing,
Give truth and courage to the string,
Our land the annual song shall hail,
Till time, and space, and Commerce fail!
Lo! where from Erie's em'rald wave,
The Grand Canal its tribute gave!
Pouring its rippling, stormless tide,
And richer frieght through regions wise!
Dispensing joy and ample cheer,
Where, since Creation's first New-YHear,
Spread sterile dells in awful gloom,
Or Nature smil'd 'mid useless bloom.
Hail'd by each truly patriot heart,
Rolls on the golden stream of art!
While Nature marks it sparkling flow,
Her bosom scenes more brightly glow!
And Commerce doth her bark delay
To cheer the modest stranger's way:
She waits upon her billows clear,
Another ever-glorious year,
To blend - and gay her course pursue,
The inland green with Ocean's blue!
Kind Patrons! may the compact hold,
Till you are tir'd of counting gold!
Now, like some Captain, skilful, true,
With cargo various, rich and new,
Who on the quarter boldly treads,
And to the wind the canvass spreads;
Looks out ahead, and firmly guides
His gallant bark through storms and tides,
Till he in harbour safely moors,
And wealth and comfort widely pours!
So into port I bring my song -
By adverse weather thwarted long;
As oft, through tempest, cold and wet
I've brought my ship the tight GAZETTE,
O'er Time's deep quicksands, reefs and floods;
Now pay my freight and take the goods!
January 1st, 1821.