Aminta.
How blest to meet my dear Lucinda here!
Long e'er the sun display'd his shining sphere,
My straying flocks I've sought, nor sought in vain,
For here I've found them sporting on this plain.

Lucinda.
With equal joy my faithful bosom beats
To see my friend in these sequester'd seats,
So unexpected, I can scarce contain
The bliss so great, that pleasure feels like pain.
But see, the winter's sun obliquely shines,
And scarcely overlooks these verdant pines: —
The playful lambs we'll leave upon this spot,
While we retire within my humble cot,
Where we shall find a comfortable fire,
Which sure so chill a morn doth much require.
A hearth, tho' earthen, neat as marble slate,
Which oft' I've heard, adorns the rooms of state.
And while, with rest, your spirits you recruit,
My board, as white as curds, I'll spread with fruit.
Which from these fertile groves, when Autumn reigns,
My hands have brought and dry'd with nicest pains:
The downy peach, the plumb and juicy pear,
The cherry too, of various kinds, and rare;
That make a viand richer to the taste
Than those so boasted, wafted from the East.
On these we'll breakfast, with the milk that flows
From my white heifer: here she stands and lows,
Reminds me gently of the fragrant hay,
Which for the draught ambrosial I repay.

Aminta.
With such engaging kindness you persuade
My willing steps — I'll follow where you lead;
For much I've wish'd a meeting, to obtain,
Since that delightful one on Morven's plain,
Where hill and dale with acclamation rung,
And songs of triumph ev'ry shepherd sung;
When british legions, with their puny lord,
To our illustrious chief resign'd the ruthless sword,
And Fame, with well-earn'd wreaths, the hero crown'd,
And Echo spread the blissful news around.

Lucinda —
Then did to my prophetic mind arise
The glorious aera now before my eyes.
That great event dispers'd the sable cloud
That hung with raven-wing — a rayless shroud.
When white-rob'd peace, with fond maternal haste,
First turn'd her honied steps towards the West;
The land which she sequester'd as her own,
And came with all her train of blessings down.

Aminta.
And I, tho' not a prophet or a sage,
Nor skill'd, like some, in the historic page,
Have oft remark'd that, from that happy day,
Some mighty change had pass'd — a blessed ray
Shed mildly from serenity's soft beam
Fill'd all our minds and brighten'd all the scene.
With higher tints the face of nature glows,
More fragrant breath'd, and brighter blush'd the rose.
With deeper bloom the hyacinth was dy'd,
And purer white array'd the garden's pride;
The groves were clothed in a livelier green,
As if some kind immortal band were seen
Hastening to execute the high command
And in seraphic accents bless the land —

Lucinda —
Yes, and in deepest shades, I've seem'd to hear
Spirits of bliss swift gliding thro' the air —
The air that wafted harmony divine,
From those sweet harbingers, whose charge benign
Was through our outmost convex to convey
Celestial peace, at the appointed day —

Aminta.
And see the heavenly visitant is here;
With what amazing charms does she appear!
How she irradiates the celestial blue
And gilds our hemisphere with brighter hue! —
Now bid adieu to all the dread alarms
Of war's loud clangor and the clash of arms.
With lights surprising in the northern sky,
Where signs appear and fiery meteors fly,
And all the horrid train of groans and sighs,
With instruments of death, the fiend's allies.
The cruel sufferings of our martial swains,
Pent up in prison-ships or doom'd to chains,
So long had fill'd my mind, that every trace
Was blotted out of the sweet cherub peace —
The blessed contrast now each wound shall heal,
The sovereign balm her gentle hand shall deal, —
Shall wipe the tear from off the orphan's eye,
And make the widow's heart exult with joy;
While our dear country by supporting these,
Our soldiers' lov'd remains, their shades shall please,
And bring Astrea from her heavenly plain,
And peace and justice bless the earth again.

Lucinda.
And see what blessings in succession fall
On people who at Freedom's sacred call,
Fly to her standard and her laws maintain,
And vindicate the dearest rights of man.
Two of our swains who lately have been down
On business in Silvania's market town,
Report that Delaware is cover'd o'er
With stately ships arriv'd from ev'ry shore,
Whose tow'ring masts like waving groves appear,
And various ensigns streaming in the air —
That merchants flock from regions far remote
Striving their different interests to promote:
And all our towns the knowing swains assert,
For each commodity will be the mart,
To vend the produce of each varying clime,
Not only now, but to the end of time.

Aminta.
For every instance of the care of heav'n,
The praise by favor'd nations should be given;
Twas GOD that kept our hero in the day
Of trial fierce when ev'ry prop gave way —
When he superior to misfortunes rose,
And turn'd the battles fate on our insulting foes.

Lucinda. —
Close by my hamlet lives a letter'd swain,
Who late emerg'd from many a busy scene,
For knowlege, wit and elegance admir'd,
Yet chose in sylvan shades to live retir'd;
To spend with me, a vacant hour he finds,
And talks of things unknown to vulgar minds.
He's read of Hannibal, so much renown'd,
Who scal'd the Alps and spread destruction round;
And Scipio too, who fought on Afric's sand,
And sav'd his country in a foreign land,
Her battles fighting far remote from home,
He drove the victor from the gates of Rome. —
But Damon says, the marches of our chief
Greatly exceed, what e'er the fond belief
Of former days, conveys to present time,
Of aught they held illustrious or sublime:
Such magnanimity, such public zeal,
As did the breast of our great leader fill,
Was never equal'd in th'historic page;
Of ancient druid or enlighten'd sage,
Nor in th'inspired song which Homer sung
To swains where great Ilisus roll'd along;
Nor could ausonian bards who rightly rove.
With vision blest thro' Plato's sacred grove,
To their enquiring shepherds shew such names,
As those which now our noblest tribute claims —
Such names as Washington and Greene & Lincoln,
Montgomery, Knox and much lamented Mercer;
With many a gallant chief whose fate severe,
Shall draw from beauty's eye the tender tear,
Their deeds renown'd shall set their fame on high,
And swell the annals of posterity. —
Thus Damon speaks and charms my attentive mind.
Whilst I enraptur'd sweet instruction find. —

Aminta.
My dear Lucinda, how I envy you!
Your eyes were blest the chief of swains to view,
The shepherd next to Pan whom I admire,
For in his praise, Fame swells the sounding lyre.
I heard that lately, on your favour'd plains,
He pitch'd his tent and blest th'exulting swains: —
The cause of this from you, I wish to know,
And much to your indulgence I shall owe.

Lucinda —
A pleasing task to me you have assign'd,
Nor could I have a pleasure more refin'd: —
Oh, I could talk of him from rising morn,
Till setting sun the evening clouds adorn;
And then till Cynthia rising in the East
Resigns her shining empire in the West.
When the great chiefs that rule our sov'reign state
At Philadelphia met in deep debate;
A band of discontented soldiers croud
Around the state-house, and with clamor loud,
Rudely insult the regents of the land,
And bold redress for fancied wrongs demand:
A safe retreat was instantly requir'd,
And to these rural plains they all retir'd.
This strange event then reach'd the General's ear,
Which soon (with his Amanda) brought him here.

Aminta.
Amanda, blest of women! I have heard
That never female was so much rever'd —
That she is gentle as the softening dews
In May descending on the new-blown rose.

Lucinda —
Gentle as air that zephyrs' wings dispense,
As kind and placid as benevolence;
Like guardian angels, ready to sustain
The virtuous mind that bends beneath it's pain.
Were I to speak my sense of the high worth,
Which in her animated face beams forth,
'Twould be deem'd flattery — suffice it then
To say she's happy in the best of men;
And good as she is happy: twenty Springs
Have pass'd since Hymen wav'd his purple wings,
And for them lit his golden torch, then twin'd
The silken cord too close to be disjoin'd.

Aminta.
They say our hostile foe now plows the main,
And Hudson's banks receive the banish'd swain;
The city rescu'd, with her ancient domes,
And all her sons restor'd to their lov'd homes.

Lucinda.
And I am told that all descriptions faint
The entrance most magnificent, to paint;
Our General at the head of chosen bands,
With ensigns of sweet peace in both his hands.
Approach'd the town amidst the loud applause
Of thousands, who in secret lov'd our cause;
But press'd by strong necessity, remain'd
Within the lines where british tyrants reign'd;
While peals of acclamation, shouts of joy,
Fill all the neighbouring groves and reach the sky.
Now order, crown'd with festal wreaths, appear'd,
And greetings of long-parted friends, were heard: —
A father here, with transport, clasps his son,
And hears delighted of his trophies won.
And there a son receives his patriot sire,
Whose youth renew'd by freedom's sacred fire,
Had lent his arm, his country's rights to guard,
Which now secur'd, bestows a rich reward.
Nor did the guardian of our land impose
The smallest inconvenience on his foes;
But gentle, brave, magnanimous and kind,
Left them to feel the stings of a reproaching mind.
I've heard of Muses that could sweetly train,
For enterprises bold, the simple swain;
Could give them knowledge from a magic brook
Who knew no science but to rule the crook: —
Oh that their sacred influence would shine,
And aid for once these simple lays of mine!
While I an interesting scene rehearse,
Too moving for such homely uncouth verse —
Our right to empire duly ascertain'd,
And all his painful labours at an end,
Our chief prepares to visit Vernon's shades,
That seat of peace, which tumult ne'er invades, —
To take the helmet from his laurel'd brow,
And taste the ease that rural joys bestow:
But now, alas! his noble spirit bends,
When he must bid adieu to all his friends, —
Beloved warriors, who had always fought
Fast by his side, and posts of danger sought —
Whose love to him, and strong attachment bore
No parallel to aught we've seen before.
The starting tear roll'd down his manly cheek,
And words were vain, the sad farewell to speak;
But stronger far the silent eloquence
That shew'd his soul was all benevolence.

Aminta.
Then he is gone forever from this plain,
No more to visit on these fields again! —

Lucinda.
Some weeks ago, he reach'd his native seat,
Where crown'd with greatness, shuns the being great,
But had you seen how keenly sorrow stung
The pensive shepherds as he rode along!
The silent tear had been a sweet relief,
To save your tender heart from bursting grief.
For me , I look'd till I could see no more,
And then my sighs the plaintive echoes bore —
Sighs that were wafted up to heav'n in prayer,
For blessings on him fervent as sincere.
Palemon from a swain a paper took,
In which I read the solemn words he spoke;
When he his great commission did resign,
Which marks his character in every line.

Aminta —
Not cooling breezes when the dog-star reigns,
Nor sun beams playing on the frost-bound plains,
Could so delight me as the pleasing view,
Of that same paper — Was it left with you? —
If it was not, the substance I must plead;
For you remember every thing you read. —

Lucinda —
No, it was not, nor memory nor time,
Will serve me to impart the true sublime,
The nervous sense and elevated style.
With which he finishes the arduous toil;
And greatly closes the official scene
Which graves him on our hearts the first of men.
But since to hear so strong is your desire,
I'll make th'attempt — 'tis all you can require —
I'll try in brief the substance to repeat
Of that which should in deathless lines be writ.
He gratulates the fathers of our land,
On the propitious unexpected end
Of a most cruel and eventful war;
Ascribing all to heav'n's protecting care:
And hopes the blessings providence supplies,
May make them great, respectable and wise —
Commends the men immediately employ'd
About him, and his confidence enjoy'd;
Whose eminent abilities and zeal,
Have greatly tended to their country's weal —
Resigns th'important trusts his country gave —
To heav'n commits her rights, and takes a solemn leave.

Aminta
So may our gracious shepherd ever guard
His path from ills and be his great reward —
May Pan himself his flocks to pasture lead,
And Flora deck with flowers his verdant mead.

Lucinda
These flow'ry vales, these fields and shady rocks,
My milk-white heifers and beloved flocks,
Had pass'd from me and call'd another lord,
But soon he came and saw them safe restor'd;
And while I bear my crook or tune my lyre,
His dear remembrance shall my lays inspire.

Aminta.
Adieu, my friend, the sun is getting low
My sheep dispers'd, and I have far to go. —
For see the shadows lengthen on the plain, —
Thanks for your kindness — may we meet again.