Awhile the Patriarch saw, with heaving sighs, These crimson flags insult the saddening skies, Saw desolation whelm his favorite coast, His children scattered and their vigor lost, Dekalb in furious combat press the plain, Morgan and Smallwood every shock sustain, Gates, now no more triumphant, quit the field, Indignant Davidson his lifeblood yield, Blount, Gregory, Williamson, with souls of fire But slender force, from hill to hill retire; When Greene in lonely greatness takes the ground, And bids at last the trump of vengeance sound. A few firm patriots to the chief repair, Raise the star standard and demand the war. But o'er the regions as he turns his eyes, What foes develop! and what forts arise! Rawdon with rapid marches leads their course, From state to state Cornwallis whirls their force, Impetuous Tarleton like a torrent pours, And fresh battalions land along the shores; Where, now resurgent from his captive chain, Phillips wide storming shakes the field again; And traitor Arnold, lured by plunder o'er, Joins the proud powers his valor foil'd before. Greene views the tempest with collected soul, Arid fates of empires in his bosom roll; So small his force, where shall he lift the steel? (Superior hosts o'er every canton wheel) Or how behold their wanton carnage spread, Himself stand idle and his country bleed? Fixt in a moment's pause the general stood, And held his warriors from the field of blood; Then points the British legions where to steer, Marks to their chief a rapid wild career, Wide o'er Virginia lets him foeless roam, To search for pillage and to find his doom, With short-lived glory feeds his sateless flame, But leaves the victory to a nobler name, Gives to great Washington to meet his way, Nor claims the honors of so bright a day. Now to the conquer'd south he turns his force, Renerves the nation by his rapid course; Forts fall around him, hosts before him fly, And captive bands his growing train supply; A hundred leagues of coast, in one campaign, Return reconquer'd to their lords again. At last Britannia's vanguard, near the strand, Veers on her foe to make one vigorous stand. Her gallant Stuart here amass'd from far The veteran legions of the Georgian war, To aid her hard-pusht powers, and quick restore The British name to that extended shore. He checks their flight, and chooses well their field, Flank'd with a marsh, by lofty woods concealed; Where Eutaw's fountains, tinged of old with gore, Still murmuring swell'd amid the bones they bore, Destined again to foul their pebbly stream, The mournful monuments of human fame; There Albion's columns, ranged in order bright, Stand like a fiery wall and wait the shock of fight.