From groups at St. James's who slight our Petitions, And fools that are waiting for further submissions; From a nation whose manners are rough and abrupt, From scoundrels and rascals whom gold can corrupt. From pirates sent out by command of the king To murder and plunder, but never to swing; From Wallace, and Graves, and _Vipers_, and _Roses_, Whom, if Heaven pleases, we'll give bloody noses. From the valiant Dunmore, with his crew of banditti Who plunder Virginians at Williamsburg city, From hot-headed Montague, mighty to swear, The little fat man with his pretty white hair. From bishops in Britain, who butchers are grown, From slaves that would die for a smile from the throne, From assemblies that vote against Congress' proceedings (Who now see the fruit of their stupid misleadings). From Tryon, the mighty, who flies from our city, And swelled with importance, disdains the committee (But since he is pleased to proclaim us his foes, What the devil care we where the devil he goes). From the caitiff, Lord North, who would bind us in chains, From our noble King Log, with his toothful of brains, Who dreams, and is certain (when taking a nap), He has conquered our lands as they lay on his map. From a kingdom that bullies, and hectors, and swears, I send up to Heaven my wishes and prayers That we, disunited, may freemen be still, And Britain go on--to be damn'd if she will. PHILIP FRENEAU. On June 8 Richard Henry Lee submitted to the Continental Congress a motion "That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown; and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." The debate on the motion began July 1. RODNEY'S RIDE [July 3, 1776] In that soft mid-land where the breezes bear The North and South on the genial air, Through the county of Kent, on affairs of state, Rode Cæsar Rodney, the delegate. Burly and big, and bold and bluff, In his three-cornered hat and coat of snuff, A foe to King George and the English State, Was Cæsar Rodney, the delegate. Into Dover village he rode apace, And his kinsfolk knew, from his anxious face, It was matter grave that brought him there, To the counties three on the Delaware. "Money and men we must have," he said, "Or the Congress fails and our cause is dead; Give us both and the King shall not work his will. We are men, since the blood of Bunker Hill!" Comes a rider swift on a panting bay: "Ho, Rodney, ho! you must save the day, For the Congress halts at a deed so great, And your vote alone may decide its fate."