ON THE FIRST AMERICAN SHIP

With clearance from Bellona won

She spreads her wings to meet the Sun,

Those golden regions to explore

Where George forbade to sail before.

Thus, grown to strength, the bird of Jove,

Impatient, quits his native grove,

With eyes of fire, and lightning's force

Through the blue aether holds his course.

No foreign tars are here allowed

To mingle with her chosen crowd,

Who, when returned, might, boasting, say

They shewed our native oak the way.

To that old track no more confined,

By Britain's jealous court assigned,

She round the Stormy Cape shall sail,

And, eastward, catch the odorous gale.

To countries placed in burning climes

And islands of remotest times

She now her eager course explores,

And soon shall greet Chinesian shores.

From thence their fragrant teas to bring

Without the leave of Britain's king;

And Porcelain ware, enchased in gold,

The product of that finer mould.

Thus commerce to our world conveys

All that the varying taste can please;

For us, the Indian looms are free,

And Java strips her spicy tree.

Great pile proceed!— and o'er the brine

May every prosperous gale be thine,

‘ Till freighted deep with Asia's stores,

You reach again your native shores.