[Page]
[Page]
A New SONG.
To the Tune of the British GRENADIERS.
VAIN BRITONS, boast no longer with proud Indignity,
By Land—your conqu'ring Legions—your matchless Strength at Sea!
Since WE your braver Sons, incens'd, our Swords have girded on,
Huzza, Huzza, Huzza, Huzza, for WAR and WA
[...]HINGTON!
Urg'd on by
North and Vengeance, these valiant Champions came,
[...]ud bellowing TEA and TREASON! and GEORGE was all on Flame!
[...]t sacrilegious as it seems—we REBELS still live on—
And laugh at all your empty Puffs, and so does WASHINGTON!
Still deaf to mild Intreaties—still blind to England's Good,
You have for Thirty Pieces—betray'd your Country's Blood;
Like Aesop's greedy Cur, you'll gain a Shadow for your Bone,
Yet find us fearful Shades indeed, inspir'd by WASHINGTON.
Mysterious! unexampled! incomprehensible!
The blundering Schemes of Britain, their Folly, Pride and Zeal!
Like
Lions how ye growl, and threat! meer
Asses have ye shown,
And ye shall share an
Ass's Fate, and drudge for WASHINGTON!
Your dark, unfathom'd Councils—our weakest Heads defeat,
Our Children rout your Armies—our Boats destroy your Fleet!
And to compleat the dire Disgrace, coop'd up within a Town,
You live the Scorn of all our Host! the Slaves of WASHINGTON!
Great Heav'n! is this the Nation—whose thund'ring Arms were hurl'd
Thro' Europe, Afric, India? whose Navy rul'd a World?
The Lustre of your former Deeds—whole Ages of Renown—
Lost! in a Moment—or transfer'd to US and WASHINGTON.
Yet think not Thirst of Glory—unsheaths our vengeful Swords—
To rend your Bands asunder—and cast away your Cords—
'Tis Heav'n-born FREEDOM fires us all—and strengthens each brave Son—
From him who humbly guides the Plough to god-like WASHINGTON!
For THIS—O could our Wishes—your ancient Rage inspire!
Your Armies should be doubled—in Numbers, Force and Fire!
Then might the glorious Conflict prove, which best deserv'd the Boon—
AMERICA or ALBION—a GEORGE or WASHINGTON!
Fir'd with the great Idea—our Fathers' Shades would rise!
To view the stern Contention—the Gods desert their Skies—
And Wolfe, mid Hosts of Heroes, superior, bending down—
Cry out, with eager Transport—Well done, brave WASHINGTON!
Should GEORGE, too choice of
Britons—to foreign Realms apply—
And madly arm half Europe—yet still we would defy
Turk, Russian, Jew, and Infidel, or all those Pow'rs in one—
While HANCOCK crowns our Senate—our Camp great WASHINGTON.
Tho' warlike Weapons fail'd us—disdaining slavish Fears—
To Swords we'd beat our Plough-shares—our Pruning hooks to Spears—
And rush all-desp'rate! on our Foe! nor breathe, till Battle won;
Then shout and shout, AMERICA! and conqu'ring WASHINGTON!
Proud France should view with Terror—and haughty Spain should fear—
While ev'ry warlike Nation— would court Alliance here—
And George, his Minions trembling round, dismounted from his Throne—
Pay Homage to AMERICA and glorious WASHINGTGN!