Too soon the mother states, with jealous fear, Transport their feuds and homebred quarrels here. Now Gallia's war-built barks ascend in sight, White flags unfold, and armies robed in white On all the frontier streams their forts prepare, And coop our cantons with surrounding war. Quebec, as proud she rears her rocky seat, Feeds their full camp and shades their anchored fleet: Oswego's rampart frowns athwart his flood, And wild Ontario swells beneath his load. And now a friendly host from Albion's strand Arrives to aid her young colonial band. They join their force, and tow'rd the falling day Impetuous Braddock leads their hasty way; O'er Allegany heights, like streams of fire, The red flags wave and glittering arms aspire To meet the savage hordes, who there advance Their skulking files to join the arms of France. Where, old as earth, yet still unstain'd with blood, Monongahela roll'd his careless flood, Flankt with his mantling groves the fountful hills, Drain'd the vast region thro his thousand rills, Lured o'er his lawns the buffle herds, and spread For all his fowls his piscatory glade; But now perceives, with hostile flag unfurl'd, A Gallic fortress awe the western world; There Braddock bends his march; the troops within Behold their danger and the fire begin. Forth bursting from the gates they rush amain, Front, flank and charge the fast approaching train; The batteries blaze, the leaden volleys pour, The vales, the streams, the solid mountains roar; Clouds of convolving smoke the welkin spread, The champaign shrouding in sulphureous shade. Lost in the rocking thunder's loud career, No shouts nor groans invade the Patriarch's ear, Nor valorous feats are seen, nor flight nor fall, But one broad burst of darkness buries all; Till chased by rising winds the smoke withdrew, And the wide slaughter open'd on his view. He saw the British leader borne afar, In dust and gore, beyond the wings of war; And while delirious panic seized his host, Their flags, their arms in wild confusion tost, Bold in the midst a youthful warrior strode, And tower'd undaunted o'er the field of blood; He checks the shameful rout, with vengeance burns, And the pale Britons brighten where he turns. So, when thick vapors veil the nightly sky, The starry host in half-seen lustre fly, Till Phosphor rises o'er the twinkling crowd, And gives new splendor thro his parting cloud.