Go tell the savage nations
You're crueler than they,
To fight your own relations
In North America.

Ten millions you've expended,
And twice ten millions more;
Our riches, you intended

Should pay the mighty score.
Who now will stand your sponsor,
Your charges to defray?
For sure you cannot conquer
This North America.

I'll tell you, George, in metre,
If you'll attend awhile;
We've forced your bold Sir Peter
From Sullivan's fair isle.

At Monmouth, too, we gainèd
The honors of the day-
The victory we obtained
For North America.

Surely we were your betters

Hard by the Brandywine;

We laid him fast in fetters

Whose name was John Burgoyne;

We made your Howe to tremble

With terror and dismay;

True heroes we resemble,
In North America.

Confusion to the tories,

That black infernal name
In which Great Britain glories,
Forever to her shame;

We'll send each foul revolter

To smutty Africa,

Or noose him in a halter

In North America.

A health to our brave footmen,
Who handle sword and gun,
To Greene and Gates and Putnam
And conquering Washington;
Their names be wrote in letters
Which never will decay,
While sun and moon do glitter
On North America.

O'er their heads aloft in mid-sky,
Three bright angel forms were seen;
This was Hampden, that was Sidney,
With fair Liberty between.

"Soon," they cried, "your foes you'll banish,
Soon the triumph shall be won;

Scarce shall setting Phoebus vanish
Ere the deathless deed be done."

Quick as thought the ships were boarded,
Hatches burst and chests displayed;

Axes, hammers, help afforded;

What a glorious crash they made.

Squash into the deep descended
Cursed weed of China's coast;
Thus at once our fears were ended;
British rights shall ne'er be lost.

Captains! once more hoist your streamers,
Spread your sails and plough the wave;
Tell your masters they were dreamers

When they thought to cheat the brave.

THE BALLAD OF NATHAN HALE.

[Moore's "Songs and Ballads of the American Revolution." 1856.]

THE

HE breezes went steadily through the tall pines,
A-saying "oh! hu-ush!" a-saying "oh! hu-ush!"

As stilly stole by a bold legion of horse,

For Hale in the bush, for Hale in the bush.

"Keep still!" said the thrush as she nestled her young,
In a nest by the road; in a nest by the road.
"For the tyrants are near, and with them appear
What bodes us no good, what bodes us no good."

The brave captain heard it, and thought of his home
In a cot by the brook; in a cot by the brook.
With mother and sister and memories dear,

He so gayly forsook; he so gayly forsook.

Cooling shades of the night were coming apace,
The tattoo had beat; the tattoo had beat.
The noble one sprang from his dark lurking-place,
To make his retreat; to make his retreat.

He warily trod on the dry rustling leaves,

As he passed through the wood; as he passed through the wood; And silently gained his rude launch on the shore,

As she played with the flood; as she played with the flood.

The guards of the camp, on that dark, dreary night,
Had a murderous will; had a murderous will.
They took him and bore him afar from the shore,
To a hut on the hill; to a hut on the hill.

No mother was there, nor a friend who could cheer,
In that little stone cell; in that little stone cell.
But he trusted in love, from his Father above.

In his heart, all was well; in his heart, all was well.

An ominous owl, with his solemn bass voice,

Sat moaning hard by; sat moaning hard by: "The tyrant's proud minions most gladly rejoice, For he must soon die; for he must soon die."

The brave fellow told them, no thing he restrained,—
The cruel general! the cruel general!-

His errand from camp, of the ends to be gained,
And said that was all; and said that was all.

They took him and bound him and bore him away,
Down the hill's grassy side; down the hill's grassy side.
'Twas there the base hirelings, in royal array,

His cause did deride; his cause did deride.

Five minutes were given, short moments, no more,
For him to repent; for him to repent.

He prayed for his mother, he asked not another,
To Heaven he went; to Heaven he went.

The faith of a martyr the tragedy showed,

As he trod the last stage; as he trod the last stage. And Britons will shudder at gallant Hale's blood,

As his words do presage, as his words do presage.

"Thou pale king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,
Go frighten the slave, go frighten the slave;
Tell tyrants, to you their allegiance they owe.
No fears for the brave; no fears for the brave."

1776.

BATTLE OF TRENTON.

[Preserved in Griswold's "Curiosities of American Literature." 1843.]

N Christmas-day in seventy-six,

Our ragged troops, with bayonets fixed,

For Trenton marched away.

The Delaware see! the boats below!

The light obscured by hail and snow!
But no signs of dismay.

Our object was the Hessian band,

That dared invade fair freedom's land,
And quarter in that place.
Great Washington he led us on,

Whose streaming flag, in storm or sun,
Had never known disgrace.

In silent march we passed the night,
Each soldier panting for the fight,

Though quite benumbed with frost.
Greene on the left at six began,
The right was led by Sullivan

Who ne'er a moment lost.

Their pickets stormed, the alarm was spread,
That rebels risen from the dead

Were marching into town.

Some scampered here, some scampered there,
And some for action did prepare;

But soon their arms laid down.

Twelve hundred servile miscreants,
With all their colors, guns, and tents,

Were trophies of the day.

The frolic o'er, the bright canteen,
In centre, front, and rear was seen
Driving fatigue away.

Now, brothers of the patriot bands,
Let's sing deliverance from the hands

Of arbitrary sway.

And as our life is but a span,

Let's touch the tankard while we can,

In memory of that day.