From sack'd Savanna, whelm'd in hostile fires, A few raw troops brave Lincoln now retires; 2l With rapid march to suffering Charleston goes, To meet the myriads of concentring foes, Who shade the pointed strand. Each fluvial flood Their gathering fleets and floating batteries load, Close their black sails, debark the amphibious host, And with their moony anchors fang the coast. The bold beleaguer'd post the hero gains, And the hard siege with various fate sustains. Cornwallis, towering at the British van, In these fierce toils his wild career began; He mounts the forky streams, and soon bestrides The narrow neck that parts converging tides, Sinks the deep trench, erects the mantling tower, Lines with strong forts the desolated shore, Hems on all sides the long unsuccour'd place, With mines and parallels contracts the space; Then bids the battering floats his labors crown, And pour their bombard on the shuddering town. High from the decks the mortar's bursting fires Sweep the full streets, and splinter down the spires. Blaze-trailing fuses vault the night's dim round, And shells and langrage lacerate the ground; Till all the tented plain, where heroes tread, Is torn with crags and cover'd with the dead. Each shower of flames renews the townsmen's woe, They wail the fight, they dread the cruel foe. Matrons in crowds, while tears bedew their charms, Babes at their sides and infants in their arms, Press round their Lincoln and his hand implore, To save them trembling from the tyrant's power. He shares their anguish with a moistening eye, And bids the balls rain thicker thro the sky; Tries every aid that art and valor yield, The sap, the countermine, the battling field, The bold sortie, by famine urged afar, That dreadful daughter of earth-wasting War. But vain the conflict now; on all the shore The foes in fresh brigades around him pour; He yields at last the well contested prize, And freedom's banners quit the southern skies. The victor Britons soon the champaign tread, And far anorth their fire and slaughter spread; Thro fortless realms, where unarm'd peasants fly, Cornwallis bears his bloody standard high; O'er Carolina rolls his growing force, And thousands fall and thousands aid his course; While in his march athwart the wide domain, Colonial dastards join his splendid train. So mountain streams thro slopes of melting snow Swell their foul waves and flood the world below.