Ezra Darby, Esq. was a member of congress from New Jersey, and died at Washington a few months after the following was written. He was an uneducated, or rather a self educated, young man of the most amiable character and manners. — Freeman's Journal
Poetical Epistle.
From Washington City, January 16, 1806.
- The winds sweeping over the hills,
- With winter incessantly blow :
- Ice binds up the rivers and rill;
- Earth whitens her surface with snow.
- The mildness of summer and spring,
- And autumn's rich fruitage are gone;
- The birds have forgotten to sing,
- The flocks have deserted the lawn.
- Far, far from the place of my birth,
- The plait where my morning was past,
- That beautiful section of earth,
- Where fortune my residence cast;
- From friends and from home far away,
- With half of myself left behind,
- My heart beats in time while I say
- The season accords with my mind.
- By fashion, or folly, or fame,
- Or some other phantom assail'd,
- Perhaps in pursuit of a name,
- Tho' thousands far batter have fail'd :
- I laid by my team and my plough,
- Forsook the sweet cottage of love,
- And came, before great men to bow,
- A clod-hopper statesmen to prove.
- Surrounded by men of all minds,
- All colors the earth can produce,
- With all sorts of bodies and minds,
- And fitted to all sorts of use;
- Compelled in some squabbles to share,
- To battle along with the rest,
- My thoughts are all ruffled with care,
- And heaviness presses my breast.
- I sigh for that silent repose
- Which home, and home only, provides;
- Those scenes unencumbered with woes,
- Where soothing contentment presides;
- Where peace builds her nest with delight,
- Domestic endearments appear,
- Where hearts can in rapture unite,
- And happiness winds off the year.
- Alas! am I here to remain,
- And count the dull minutes away,
- Till winter shall wear out his reign,
- And nature begin to look gay;
- Till the foliage shall cover the trees,
- The blue bird be seen on the wing;
- Till fragrance shall float on the breeze,
- And perhaps till the whippoorwill sing?
- Then hasten your tardy career,
- Ye moments! forget your delay;
- Let spring in her verdure appear,
- Bring forward the beauty of May,
- Let me catch the full note of the grove,
- Take the earliest Zepher that blows,
- To fly to the bosom of love,
- And rest in ecstatic repose.