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That fain thy soul to heav’nly scenes would raise.

 

A Farewel to AMERICA. To Mrs. S. W.

 

I. ADIEU, New-England’s smiling meads,

Adieu, the flow’ry plain: I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring,

And tempt the roaring main.

 

II. In vain for me the flow’rets rise,

And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies

I mourn for health deny’d.

 

III. Celestial maid of rosy hue,

O let me feel thy reign! I languish till thy face I view,

Thy vanish’d joys regain.

 

IV. Susanna mourns, nor can I bear

To see the crystal show’r, Or mark the tender falling tear

At sad departure’s hour;

 

V. Not unregarding can I see

Her soul with grief opprest: But let no sighs, no groans for me,

Steal from her pensive breast.

 

VI. In vain the feather’d warblers sing,

In vain the garden blooms, And on the bosom of the spring

Breathes out her sweet perfumes.

 

VII. While for Britannia’s distant shore

We sweep the liquid plain, And with astonish’d eyes explore

The wide-extended main.

 

VIII. Lo! Health appears! celestial dame!

Complacent and serene, With Hebe’s mantle o’er her Frame,

With soul-delighting mein.

 

IX. To mark the vale where London lies

With misty vapours crown’d, Which cloud Aurora’s thousand dyes,

And veil her charms around.

 

X. Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow?

So slow thy rising ray? Give us the famous town to view,

Thou glorious king of day!

 

XI. For thee, Britannia, I resign

New-England’s smiling fields; To view again her charms divine,

What joy the prospect yields!

 

XII. But thou! Temptation hence away,

With all thy fatal train, Nor once seduce my soul away,

By thine enchanting strain.

 

XIII. Thrice happy they, whose heav’nly shield

Secures their souls from harms, And fell Temptation on the field

Of all its pow’r disarms!

 

Boston, May 7, 1773.

 

A REBUS, by I. B.

 

I. A BIRD delicious to the taste, On which an army once did feast,

Sent by an hand unseen; A creature of the horned race, Which Britain’s royal standards grace;

A gem of vivid green;

 

II. A town of gaiety and sport, Where beaux and beauteous nymphs resort,

And gallantry doth reign; A Dardan hero fam’d of old For youth and beauty, as we’re told,

And by a monarch slain;

 

III. A peer of popular applause, Who doth our violated laws,

And grievances proclaim. Th’ initials show a vanquish’d town, That adds fresh glory and renown

To old Britannia’s fame.

 

An ANSWER to the Rebus, by the Author of

these POEMS.

THE poet asks, and Phillis can’t refuse To show th’ obedience of the Infant muse. She knows the Quail of most inviting taste Fed Israel’s army in the dreary waste; And what’s on Britain’s royal standard borne, But the tall, graceful, rampant Unicorn? The Emerald with a vivid verdure glows Among the gems which regal crowns compose; Boston’s a town, polite and debonair, To which the beaux and beauteous nymphs repair, Each Helen strikes the mind with sweet surprise, While living lightning flashes from her eyes, See young Euphorbus of the Dardan line By Manelaus’ hand to death resign: The well known peer of popular applause Is C–-m zealous to support our laws. Quebec now vanquish’d must obey, She too much annual tribute pay To Britain of immortal fame. And add new glory to her name.

 

F I N I S.

 

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Poems, by Phillis Wheatley

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