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Prepared to cut our precious limbs away
And leave the bleeding body to decay.

Seek ye for foes? alas, my friends, look round,
In every street, see numerous foes abound!
Methinks I hear them cry, in varied tones,
“Give us our father's-brother's sister's bones."
Methinks I see a mob of sailors rise-
“ Revenge !-revenge!” they cry, and damn their eyes,
“ Revenge for comrade Jack, whose flesh they say,
You minced to morsels and then threw away."
Methinks I see a black infernal train-
The genuine offspring of accursed Cain-
Fiercely on you their angry looks are bent,
They grin and gibber dangerous discontent,
And seem to say—“ Is there not meat enough?
Ah! massa cannibal, why eat poor Cuff?”
Even hostile watchmen stand in strong array,
And o'er our heads their threatening staves display :
Howl hideous discord through the noon of night,
And shake their dreadful lanthorns in our sight.

Say, are not these sufficient to engage
Your high wrought souls eternal war to wage ?
Combine your strength these monsters to subdue,
No friends of science and sworn foes to you;
On these—on these, your wordy vengeance pour,
And strive our fading glory to restore.

Ah! think how, late, our mutilated rites
And midnight orgies, were by sudden frights
And loud alarms profaned—the sacrifice,
Stretch'd on a board before our eager eyes,
All naked lay—even when our chieftain stood
Like a high priest, prepared for shedding blood;
Prepared, with wonderous skill to cut or slash,
The gentle sliver or the deep drawn gash;
Prepared to plunge even elbow deep in gore,
Nature and nature's secrets to explore-
Then a tumultuous cry-a sudden fear-
Proclaim'd the foe—the enraged foe is near-
In some dark hole the hard-got corse was laid,
And we, in wild conclusion, fled dismay'd.

Think how, like brethren, we have shared the toil, When in the Potter's field we sought for spoil,

Did midnight ghosts and death and horror brave-
To delve for science in the dreary grave.-
Shall I remind you of that awful night
When our compacted band maintained the fight
Against an armed host?—fierce was the fray,
And yet we bore our sheeted prize away,
Firm on a horse's back the corse was laid,
High blowing winds the winding sheet display'd ;
Swift flew the steed—but still his burthen bore-
Fear made him fleet, who ne'er was fleet before ;
O'er tombs and sunken graves he coursed around,
Nor aught respected consecrated ground.
Meantime the battle raged—so loud the strife,
The dead were almost frighten'd into life-
Though not victorious, yet we scorn'd to yield,
Retook our prize, and left the doubtful field.

In this degenerate age, alas! how few
The paths of science with true zeal pursue ?
Some trifling contest, some delusive joy
Too oft the unsteady minds of youth employ.
For me—whom Esculapius hath inspired
I boast a soul with love of science fired;
By one great object is my heart possess'd-
One ruling passion quite absorbs the rest-
In this bright point my hopes and fears unite ;
And one pursuit alone can give delight.

To me things are not as to vulgar eyes,
I would all nature's works anatomize
This world a living monster seems, to me,
Rolling and sporting in the aerial sea ;
The soil encompasses her rocks and stones
As flesh in animals encircles bones.
I see vast ocean, like a heart in play,
Pant systole and diastole every day,
And by unnumbered venous streams supply'd
Up her broad river force the arterial tide.
The world's great lungs, monsoons and tradewinds show
From east to west, from west to east they blow
Alternate respiration-
The hills are pimples which earth's face defile,
And burning Ætna, an eruptive bile :
From her vast body perspirations rise,
Condense in clouds and float beneath the skies:
Thus fancy, faithful servant of the heart,
Transforms all nature by her magic art.



E’en mighty love, whose power


Is not, in me, like love in other souls
Yet I have loved—and Cupid's subtle dart
Hath through my pericardium pierced my heart.
Brown Cadavera did my soul ensnare,
Was all my thought by night and daily care-
I long'd to clasp, in her transcendant charms,
A living skeleton within my arms.

Long, lank, and lean, my Cadavera stood, Like the tall pine, the glory of the woodOft times I gazed, with learned skill to trace The sharp edged beauties of her bony face-There rose os frontis prominent and bold, In deep sunk orbits two large eye-balls roll’d, Beneath those eye-balls, two arch'd bones were seen Whereon two flabby cheeks hung loose and lean; Beneath those cheeks, proturberant arose, In form triangular, her lovely nose, Like Egypt's pyramid it seem’d to rise, Scorn earth, and bid defiance to the skies ; Thin were her lips, and of a sallow hue, Her open'd mouth exposed her teeth to view; Projecting strong, protuberant and wide Stood incisoresand on either side The canine ranged, with many a beauteous flaw, And last the grinders, to fill up the jawAll in their alveoli fix'd secure, Articulated by gomphosis sure. Around her mouth, perpetual smiles had made Wrinkles wherein the loves and graces play'd ; There, stretch'd and rigid by continual strain, Appeard the zygomatic muscles plain, And broad montanus o'er her peaked chin Extended to support the heavenly grin. Long were her fingers and her knuckles bare, Much like the claw-foot of a walnut chair. So plain was complex metacarpus shown It might be fairly counted bone by bone. Her slender phalanxes were well defined, And each with each by ginglymus coinbined. Such were the charms that did my fancy fire, And love-chaste, scientific love inspire.


Mrs BLEECKER was the daughter of Mr Brandt Schuyler, and was born in New York in 1752. In 1769 she was married to John J. Bleecker Esq. of New Rochelle, and removed to Poughkeepsie, and shortly after to Tomhanick, a beautiful solitary village eighteen miles above Albany. Here she passed several years in the unbroken quiet of the wilderness, and although accustomed to move in the busy and gay throngs of the metropolis, her love for rural scenery, and the endearments of her domestic circle, rendered her life in this retirement a scene of unalloyed tranquillity and happiness. The repose of this beautiful and romantic spot, was at length broken by the clamors of war. In 1777 the approach of Burgoyne's army from Canada spread terror and consternation throughout the back settlements, in that quarter. The horrors of military rapine were augmented by the fierce cruelties of savage warfare, and the dread of the British general's Indian ally frightened the peaceful inhabitants of the forest from their dwellings. Mr Bleecker's residence lay directly in the march of the invading foe, and he hastened to Albany to prepare a shelter for his family. But a few hours after his departure, Mrs Bleecker, as she sat at table, received intelligence that the enemy was within two miles of the village, burning and slaughtering all before him. In unspeakable terror at this information, she started up, and taking one of her daughters under her arm, and seizing the other by the hand, set off on foot, attended only by a young mulatto girl, leaving her house and all its contents a prey to the savages. The roads were incumbered with carriages loaded with women and children, and no assistance could be obtained; nothing but confusion and distress prevailed. After travelling on foot four or five miles, she procured a seat for the children in a wagon, and walked onward to the village of Stony Arabia, where after much difficulty she obtained shelter in a garret. Her husband returning from Albany, met her the next morning, and they proceeded to that city, from which place they departed down the Hudson by water. Twelve miles below Albany, her youngest daughter was taken so ill, that they were forced to go on shore, where shortly after she died. From hence they proceeded to Red Hook, where they considered themselves in safety

The capture of Burgoyne soon after allowed them to return to their retreat in the country, but the loss of her daughter made so deep an impression upon her mind, that she never recovered her former happiness. She was naturally of a pensive turn, and brooded over her griefs with too free an indulgence. She lived, however, in tolerable tranquillity till the year 1781, when, as Mr Bleecker was assisting in the harvest one day in August, he was surprised by a party of the enemy from Canada, and carried off prisoner with two of his men. Mrs Bleecker, unknowing of the circumstance, continued to expect him home till late in the day, at which time, growing apprehensive, she despatched a servant in search of him, who returned without 'making any discovery. As a number of parties from Canada were known to be prowling about in the woods for the purpose of seizing and carrying off the most active citizens, she began to conjecture what had become of him. The neighborhood was raised, and the forest searched for him, but without effect; not a trace could be discovered of the party. Mrs Bleecker, completely overcome with grief, gave

for lost, and set out for Albany, although it was near night. Mr Blecker however, had the good fortune to be rescued from his captors, just at the time when they had proceeded so far as to imagine themselves in perfect security. He was retaken by a party of Americans from Bennington, and returned to his wife, after an absence of six days. The joy she experienced on again beholding him, so far overpowered her, as to bring on a fit of sickness, which nearly proved fatal.

After the peace, she returned to New York for the purpose of revisiting the scenes and associates of her childhood, but the loss of her friends, and the ruinous condition of her native city, preyed so powerfully upon her, that her spirits

him up

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