Philip Freneau Poems
- On A Honey Bee Thou born to sip the lake or spring, Or quaff...
- The Indian Burying Ground In spite of all the learn'd have ...
- The Wild Honey-Suckle Fair flower, that dost so comely ...
- To A New England Poet Though skilled in Latin and in ...
- On The Death Of Dr. Benjamin F... Thus, some tall tree ...
- To The Memory Of The Brave Ame... AT Eutaw Springs the ...
- The Republican Genius Of Europ... Emporers and kings! in vain ...
Philip Freneau was born in New York of Huguenot ancestry in 1752, and died near Freehold, New Jersey, in 1832.
Well versed in the classics in Monmouth County under the tutelage of William Tennent, Philip entered Princeton as a sophomore in 1768, but the joy of the occasion was marred by his father's financial losses and death the year before. In spite of financial hardships, Philip's Scottish mother believed that her oldest of five children would graduate and join the clergy. Though he was a serious student of theology and a stern moralist all his life, Freneau found his true calling in literature. As his roommate and close friend James Madison recognized early, Freneau's wit and... more »
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On A Honey Bee
Thou born to sip the lake or spring,
Or quaff the waters of the stream,
Why hither come on vagrant wing?--
Does Bacchus tempting seem--
Did he, for you, the glass prepare?--
Will I admit you to a share?
Did storms harrass or foes perplex,
Did wasps or king-birds bring dismay--
Did wars distress, or labours vex,
Or did you miss your way?--
A better seat you could not take
Than on the margin of this lake.
Welcome!--I hail you to my glass:
All welcome, here, you find;
Here let the cloud of trouble pass,
Here, be all care resigned.--