ON THE DEPARTURE OF PETER PORCUPINE

A bird of night attends the sail

That now towards us turns her tail

With Porcupine, escaped from jail.

O may the sharks enjoy their bait:

He came such mischief to create

We wish him not a better fate.

This hero of the pension'd pen

Has left our shores, and left his den

To write at home for English men.

Five thousand dollars,we may guess,

Have made his pension something less —

So, Peter left us,— in distress.

He writ, and writ, and writ so long

That sheriff came, with writ more strong,

And he went off, and all went wrong.

May southern gales that vex the main,

Or Boreas, with his whistling train

Make Peter howl and howl again.

I hear him screech, I hear him shout!—

The storm has put his Rush light out —

I see him famish'd with sour crout.

May on the groaning vessel's side

All Neptune's ruffian strength be try'd

Till every seam is gaping wide.

And while the waves about him swell

May not one triton blow the shell

( A sign at sea of doing well ):

But should he reach the british shore,

( The land that englishmen adore )

One trouble will he find and more:

His pen will run at such a rate,

His malice so provoke the great,

They soon will drive him out of date.

With broken heart and blunted pen

He'll sink among the little men

Or scribble in some Newgate den.

Alack, alack! he might have stay'd

And followed here the scribbling trade,

And lived without the royal aid.

But democratic laws he hated,

Our government he so be-rated

That his own projects he defeated.

He took his leave from Sandy-Hook,

And parted with a surly look,

That all observed and few mistook.