Poet, son of the signer; born in
Taunton, Mass., Dec. 9, 1773; graduated at Harvard University in 1792; was originally named
Thomas, but in view of the character of
Thomas Paine, author of
Common sense, he had it changed by the legislature, he desiring, as he said, to bear a “
Christian” name.
He became a journalist and a poet, and was the author of the popular ode entitled
Adams and liberty.
He became a lawyer in 1802, and retired from the profession in 1809.
His last important poem—The
Steeds of Apollo—was written in his father's house in
Boston.
He died in
Boston, Nov. 13, 1811.
Adams and liberty.
In the spring and early summer of 1798 a war-spirit of great intensity excited the
American people.
The conduct of
France towards the
United States and its ministers had caused the
American government to make preparations for war upon the
French.
In June
Paine was engaged to write a patriotic song to be sung at the anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society.
He composed one which he
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entitled
Adams and liberty.
It was adapted to the spirit of the time, and had a wonderful effect upon the people.
It was really a war-song, in nine stanzas.
The following verses expressed the temper of the people then:
While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood,
And Society's base threats with wide dissolution,
May Peace, like the dove, who returned from the flood,
Find an ark of abode in our mild Constitution.
But though Peace is our aim,
Yet the boon we disclaim,
If bought by our Sov'reignty, Justice, or Fame.
'Tis the fire of the flint each American warms;
Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision,
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms—
We're a world by ourselves, and disclaim a division
While with patriot pride
To our laws we're allied,
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide.
Our mountains are crowned with imperial oak,
Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished;
But long ere our nation submits to the yoke,
Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished.
Should invasion impend,
Every grove would descend
From the hill-tops they shaded, our shores to defend.
Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent worm,
Lest our Liberty's growth should be checked by corrosion,
Then let clouds thicken round us, we heed not the storm,
Our realm fears no shock but the earth's own explosion.
Foes assail us in vain,
Though their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain.
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.
At the home of
Major Russell, editor of the
Boston Centinel, the author offered it to that gentleman.
“It is imperfect,” said
Russell, “without the name of
Washington in it.”
Mr. Paine was about to take some wine, when
Russell politely and good-naturedly interfered, saying, “You can have none of my port,
Mr. Paine, until you have written another stanza with
Washington's name in it.”
Paine walked back and forth a few minutes, called for a pen, and wrote the fifth verse in the poem as follows:
Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,
Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder;
For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand,
And repulse with his breast the assaults of the thunder!
His sword from the sleep
Of its scabbard would leap,
And conduct with its point ev'ry flash to the deep!
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves
While the earth bears a plant or the sea. rolls its waves.
This song became immensely popular, and was sung all over the country—in theatres and other public places, in drawing-rooms and work-shops, and by the boys in the streets.
