The calm that smooths the summer seas
May suit the man of sloth and ease:
But skies that fret and storms that rave
Are the best schools to make us brave.
On Heckla's heights who hopes to see
The blooming grove, the orange tree
Awhile on hope may fondly lean
'Till sad experience blots the scene.
If Nature acts on Reason's plan,
And Reason be the guide of man:
Why should he paint fine prospects there,
Then sigh, to find them disappear?
For ruin'd states or trade perplext
'Tis almost folly to be vext:
The world at last will have its way
And we its torrent must obey.
On other shores a happier guest
The mind must fix her haven of rest,
Where better men and better climes
Shall soothe the cares of future times.
[357] Published in the Freeman's Journal, July 18, 1787; dated "Philadelphia, July 16." Republished in the 1788 and 1795 editions, the latter of which I have followed.
TO CRACOVIUS PUTRIDUS[358]
The Sailor, toss'd on stormy seas,
Implores his patron-god for ease
When Luna hides her paler blaze,
And stars, obscurely, dart their rays:
For ease the Yankee, fierce in war,
His stores of vengeance points afar:
For ease, the toiling Dutchman sighs,
Which gold, nor gems, nor purple buys!