Will rend the silence of our tented plains And bid the nations tremble at her strains. The puritan settlers of New England, while carrying on war against the Indian tribes, deemed it right to spend the hours their enemies devoted to profane dances and incantations, in singing verses, half military and half religious; and their actions in the field were celebrated in ballads which lacked none of the spirit and fidelity of the songs of the old bards and scalds, however deficient they may have been in metrical array and sentiment. “Lovewell’s Fight,” “The Gallant Church,” “Smith’s Affair at Sidelong Hill,” and “The Godless French Soldier,” are among the best lyrical compositions of the early period in which they were written, and are not without value as historical records. At the commencement of the Revolution, Barlow, Trumbull, Dwight, Humphreys, and other “Connecticut wits,” employed their leisure in writing patriotic songs for the soldiers and the people, “which,” says a life of Putnam, “had great effect through the country.” “I do not know,” wrote Barlow on entering the army, “whether I shall do more for the cause in the capacity of chaplain than I could in that of poet; I have great faith in the influence of songs; and I shall continue, while fulfilling the duties of my appointment, to write one now and then, and to encourage the taste for them which I find in the camp. One good song is worth a dozen addresses or proclamations.” The great song-writer of the Revolution, however, was Freneau, whose pieces were everywhere sung with enthusiasm. He was a keen satirist, and wrote with remarkable facility; but his lyrics were often profane and vulgar, while those written in New England, on account of their style and cast of thought, were stigmatized by the celebrated Parson Peters as “psalms and hymns adapted to the tastes of Yankee rebels.” The following is a characteristic specimen: WAR SONG.—_Written in 1776._ Hark, hark, the sound of War is heard, And we must all attend; Take up our arms and go with speed Our country to defend. Our parent state has turned our foe, Which fills our land with pain; Her gallant ships manned out for war Come thundering o’er the main. There’s Carleton, Howe, and Clinton too, And many thousands more, May cross the sea, but all in vain; Our rights we’ll ne’er give o’er. Our pleasant land they do invade, Our property devour; And all because we won’t submit To their despotic power. Then let us go against our foes, We’d better die than yield; We and our sons are all undone If Britain win the field. Tories may dream of future joys, But I am bold to say, They’ll find themselves bound fast in chains If Britain wins the day. Husbands must leave their loving wives And sprightly youths attend, Leave their sweethearts and risk their lives Their country to defend.