Virginia had been beautiful
And owned a lovely land;
Her sons, who were so dutiful,
Went with her heart and hand;
They raised her to the highest seat,
By talents and by worth,
And sent her name in accents sweet,
Far ringing through the earth.
But lately she had fallen off;
Her beauty was impair'd;
Her younger sons were heard to scoff—
They might at least have spared.
'Twas said that she was growing blind,
Was lazy and supine,
And that she weakly lagged behind
Her sisters, grown divine.
That all her days were spent, forsooth,
In one eternal chime
About her deeds of early youth—
"Resolves" of former time.
Naught could be said and nothing told
But she more devils spied;
"More devils than vast hell could hold—"
Or all the world beside.
And strangers1 did her land deride—
With wagging tongue, reviled;
Wild beasts, they said, had multiplied
In that most barren wild;
Her houses were untenanted—
The fox2 had manned her walls;
And "rank grass" waved around his head,
As in old Ossian's halls!
Her moral strength and physical,3
Aye, both of them were gone,
And every man seem'd phthisical,
Or like to tumble down;
Her talents all were buried deep,
Or in some napkin hid,
Or with the mighty dead, did sleep
Beneath the coffin lid.
But far! oh far beyond all these,
She had displeased her God;
Inter dolosos cineres,
She on volcano trod;
She could not get o' nights her rest;
At midnight bell for fire,
She hugged her infants to her breast,
Prepared for fun'ral pyre.
Virginia roused herself one day
And took her picture down;
And as she gazed, was heard to say—
Am I thus hideous grown?
And am I stupid—lazy—blind—
A monomaniac too!
Relaxed in body and in mind?
Oh no! it is not true.
There lies outstretched my glorious land,
With her capacious bay;
My rivers rush on every hand,
With sail and pennon gay;
My mountains, like a girdle blue,
Adorn her lovely waist,
"And lend enchantment to the view,"
As in "the distance" traced.
I'll hie me straight to Richmond town,
And call my liege men there;
And they shall write these libels down,
Or fill me with despair.
I have a friend, who'll make some stir,
And take my work in hand;
I'll send him forth my "MESSENGER"—
To "spy out all the land."4
That Messenger went gaily forth
Throughout her old domain,
And there found many men of worth
Would snatch their pens again;
And since their mothers' blood was up—
To cast her odium by,
Would shed—of ink—their latest drop
T' inscribe her name on high.
The land which he went out to sift,
No milk and honey floods—
It takes not two her grapes to lift—5
But grapes festoon her woods.
No want of food, for beast or man,
There met his eager gaze;
Find better bacon!—greens!—who can?
Or finer fields of maize!6
Her Tuckahoes 'tis true, are slim,
And of a bilious hue;
But then he found the Anakim
Beyond the mountains blue:
Some men he found in safety chains—
All crossed upon the breast—
They seem'd indeed to have no brains:
But these all lands infest.
The women look'd so passing fair,
How shall their charms be told?
By their Iachimo's7 they were
Like brilliants set in gold.
Of such pure water was each maid;
So sparkling unto view—
No wonder that it should be said
They never could turn blue.
No foxes here, peep'd windows through;
But oft at early morn
They're seen to brush the glittering dew,
Pursued by hounds and horn:
Her "hounds are of the Spartan breed"—
"So sanded and so flew'd,"—
All "dewlap'd" they, and all "crook-kneed"—
As Cadmus e'er halloo'd.
In short, all zealots are run mad
T' abuse this pleasing sod;
Where people sleep as sound, egad,
As in the land of Nod:
What! colonize old coachman Dick!
My foster brother Nat!
My more than mother, when I'm sick!
"Come, Hal, no more of that." |