Father and mother, authors of my birth,
Ye dwell in bliss; your son on sinful earth.
Hail, happy pair, who praise the Lamb above!
I strive to share your cup of perfect love.
Father, ere yet I knew thy manly form,
The ills of life were o'er, and hushed the storm;
Thy God called thee from earth to dwell on high;
In peace thou art, beyond the swelling sky.

O sainted parents, who my life has kept,
Preserved my sinful soul each night I slept;
Since God transported ye to realms of light,
And bade my youth in virtue take delight!
'Twas God. 'Tis he who still preserves my soul,
When foes unite, or waves of trouble roll,
Cared for my childhood, blessed my striving youth;
Me snatched from vice and led in paths of truth.

Delusive vice has spread her fictious charms,
Threw out her purse, and wooed me to her arms.
I gazed, I trembled, grasped the motley toys;
But keen remorse sprung from her guilty joys!
My joyful sire, I blush to own my sin,
But can I hide when God surveys within?
Within my soul the Great Jehovah spies,
Nor word nor thought escapes his piercing eyes.

O sainted mother, high in glory thou,
If God permits, behold thy Daniel now!
Good Lord, give strength; my feeble mind sustain,
Nor let my sighs ascend to thee in vain.
Servants of God, extol the King of kings;
Let higher notes flow from your trembling strings.
He saves your son, puts all his foes to flight--
His human foes, or fiends of deepest night.

When ignorance my mind in fetters bound,
He smote the fiend; then beams of light surround.
Broad beams of light described the way of truth,
And bade me lead therein benighted youth.
O here's my bliss, that I the way have shown
To lovely youths which was before unknown;
From scientific shrines plucked golden fire,
And thrilled with notes divine the sacred lyre.

Did I conceive five rolling years ago,
The luscious fruits which science can bestow?
O bend in praise devout before his throne!
'Twas God that gave the boon, and God alone.
My sire, when on the bed of death you lay,
Did thy blest soul in fervent accents pray
That I should be what now I feel I am--
Favored of God, preserved from every harm?

Thou didst, my sire; thrice blessed be thy name;
Come, wisdom, clothe me in thy sacred flame;
Ye scientific truths, my mind control;
And thou, fair virtue, guide my erring soul.
What's my ambition? What is my great desire?
The youthful mind with knowledge to inspire.
Not worlds on worlds for this would I exchange,
Though cruel laws my noble scheme derange.

Soon from the land where first I drew my breath
I go a wanderer on the flying earth!
Where shall I go? O Thou my fortune guide,
Who led good Abram with his modest bride.
Him didst thou lead across the eastern wild,
Direct his steps and on his fortune smiled;
In foreign climes spread wide his fruitful boughs,
Made strong his bands and scattered all his foes.

Dost thou not roll the thunder 'cross the sky?
Arouse the storm, and bid the lightnings fly?
Bid teeming earth produce her pulpy grains,
By genial sunbeams or the fruitful rains?
Stop, falling tears; God lights the cheerful day,
Gives gloomy night, and leads the darksome way.
Frown, fortune, frown; my struggling breast shall bear
Thy worthless blows, and pointless arrows dare.

O I had thought the moral plants would grow,
From all the care my talents can bestow,
Like trees of virtue lift their blooming heads
Where snowy clouds suspend their liquid beds!
Ye lads, whom I have taught with sacred zeal,
For your hard fate I pangs of sorrow feel.
O who shall now your rising talents guide,
Where virtues reign and sacred truths preside?

Ye modest virgins, I have taught your minds
To fly from earth where sinful pleasure blinds,
The rugged hill of science to ascend,
Where sacred flames with human fires blend.
Who now shall call your willing, joyful feet
In 'wisdom's institute' to learn and meet
Sweet piety and science, gods of light
Whose precepts lead your erring minds aright?

Who shall for you Minerva's field explore,
Spread open wide fair nature's roseate door?
O who shall help your op'ning wings to fly
Where virtue sits resplendent in the sky?
O God of mercy! whither shall I go?
Where turn my steps--to weal, or else to woe?
Speak. I the sacred mandate wait to hear,
Nor shall I ocean dread nor tempest fear.

Eternal Goodness, from thy shining seat,
Let mercy fly to guide my wandering feet.
On distant lands I will thy servant be,
To turn from vice the youthful mind to thee.
Just two revolving moons shall light the shores
When Carolina's laws shall shut the doors
Of this fine room, where science holds his reign,
The humble tutor, hated Daniel Payne.

O that my arms could reach yon burning sun,
And stop his motion till my work be done!
With these small fingers catch the flying moon--
Night should not triumph o'er the dazzling noon.
April should ne'er appear; but I would teach
Each yielding pupil till their minds could reach

The climax of proud science, and their plumes
Could soar where good John Locke or Newton blooms
Ye blooming plants of moral culture fine,
The dews that wet ye be those dews divine.
The faithful gard'ner! Ah who shall he be?
The Father, Spirit, Son--the sacred three!
Before you nature spreads her blooming fields;
On verdant breast her fragrant produce yields.
Go seek her lilies, tulips, roseate sweets
When morning light her swelling bosom greets.

Each minute insect and each flying bird,
Each walking beast, whose tuneless notes are heard,
The scaly fish that lives not on the shore,
And man himself, the mighty being explore.
Aspiring mounts and hills, descending dales,
The floating air, when peace or storm prevails;
Oceans and seas, streams and expanding lakes,
When night leaps in, or sweet aurora wakes.

The flying rays of light, the spangled sky,
On contemplation's wing mount ye on high.
Bright cherubim and flaming seraphim,
All things upon wide earth, th' eternal Him,
Children, all, all are yours! Search, find them out.
Knowledge, where are thy bounds? In depths without.
The heavens, within the heavens, nor time,
Nor vast eternity, the gods sublime,

Can in their sweeping compass e'er embrace!
He reigns o'er angels, guides the human race.
Seek not the joys which sinful earth can give;
They sparkle, perish, for a moment live.
Sweet innocents, behold each moving lip!
From cups of wisdom sacred sweets they sip.
What demon snatches from your hands those books,
And blasts your talents with his withering looks?

I weep. Flow, then, ye sympathetic tears!
Each bitter stream the stamp of sorrow bears.
O who those smiling infant cheeks can see
Destined to night, and not lament with me?
Could tears of blood revoke the fierce decree,
The statesmen touch and make my pupils free,
I at their feet the crimson tide would pour
Till potent justice swayed the senate floor.

As when a deer does in the pasture graze,
The lion roars--she's filled with wild amaze,
Knows strength unequal for the dreadful fight,
And seeks sweet safety in her rapid flight--
So Payne prepares to leave his native home,
With pigmy purse on distant shores to roam.
Lo! in the skies my boundless store-house is!
I go reclining on God's promises.

Pupils, attend my last departing sounds;
Ye are my hopes, and ye my mental crowns,
My monuments of intellectual might,
My robes of honor and my armor bright.
Like Solomon, entreat the throne of God;
Light shall descend in lucid columns broad,
And all that man has learned or man can know
In streams prolific shall your minds o'erflow.

Hate sin; love God; religion be your prize;
Her laws obeyed will surely make you wise,
Secure you from the ruin of the vain,
And save your souls from everlasting pain.
O fare you well for whom my bosom glows
With ardent love, which Christ my Saviour knows!
'Twas for your good I labored night and day;
For you I wept, and now for you I pray.

Farewell! farewell! ye children of my love;
May joys abundant flow ye from above!
May peace celestial crown your useful days,
To bliss transported, sing eternal lays;
For sacred wisdom give a golden world,
And when foul vice his charming folds unfurl,
O spurn the monster, though his crystal eyes
Be like bright sunbeams streaming from the skies!
And I! O whither shall your tutor fly?
Guide thou my feet, great Sovereign of the sky.

A useful life by sacred wisdom crowned,
Is all I ask, let weal or woe abound!