Thus, in thirty minutes ended, Mischiefs that could not be mended: Masts, and yards, and ship descended, All to David Jones' locker-- Such a ship in such a pucker!

Drink about to the Constitution! She perform'd some execution Did some share of retribution For the insults of the year When she took the Guerriere. May success again await her, Let who will again command her Bainbridge, Rodgers, or Decatur-- Nothing like her can withstand her, With a crew, like that on board her Who so boldly call'd "to order" One bold crew of english sailors, Long, too long our seamen's jailors, Dacre' and the Guerriere!

The Poems of Philip Freneau, Volume III (of III) — Part 158

The fatal and perfidious barque! Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that angel form of thine!

The Poems of Philip Freneau, Volume III (of III) — Part 158

The morning star, resplendent in the east, May be our station, when from life released,

The Poems of Philip Freneau, Volume III (of III) — Part 158

Tempestuous cape! how fatal proved the day When from thy shores the faithless ship withdrew, Yet, prosperous gales impell'd her on her way Till the broad canvas vanish'd from the view.

Long on that height the pensive friends remain'd Till ocean's curve conceal'd her from the eye, And all was hope that she her port attain'd Ere ten more suns illumed the morning sky.

Fond friends! false hope! no port beheld her come With flowing sheet, to meet the pilot's sail: No pilot met her on the Atlantic foam-- What could the pilot, or his art, avail?

Detested barque! nor art thou yet arrived-- Nor wilt thou come! three years are roll'd away! You, Theodosia of her life deprived, You sunk her from the cheerful beams of day!

Where dost thou rest, with her whose genius rose Above her sex--for science so renown'd-- But does her spirit in the deep repose Or find new mansions on celestial ground?

That soars above to heights unknown before, Where all is joy, and life that never ends; Where all is rapture, all admire, adore; Immortal nature, with angelic friends.

Oh! shed no more the tears of sad regret; The hymns of joy, the lofty verse prepare-- Her briny doom, the ingulphing wave forget For Theodosia in the Morning Star.

[200] Theodosia, the brilliant and accomplished daughter of Aaron Burr, embarked from Charleston, S. C., December 29, 1812, in the schooner _Patriot_ for New York. The boat never was heard from afterwards. It doubtless foundered off Cape Hatteras in the severe gale which sprang up soon after the vessel had left the harbor.