He points the assault; and, thro the howling air, O'er rocky ramparts leads audacious war. Swift rise the rapid files; the walls are red With flashing flames, that show the piles of dead; Till back recoiling from the ranks of slain, They leave their leader with a feeble train, Begirt with foes within the sounding wall, Who thick beneath his single falchion fall. But short the conflict; others hemm'd him round, And brave Montgomery prest the gory ground. A second Wolfe Columbus here beheld, In youthful charms, a soul undaunted yield; Forlorn, o'erpower'd, his hardy host remains, Stretch'd by his side, or led in captive chains. Macpherson, Cheesman share their general's doom; Meigs, Morgan, Dearborn, planning deeds to come, Resign impatient prisoners; soon to wield Their happier swords in many a broader field. Triumphant to Newyork's ill forted post Britannia turns her vast amphibious host, That seas and storms, obedient to her hand, Heave and discharge on every distant land; Fleets, floating batteries shake Manhattan's shore, And Hellgate rocks reverberate the roar. Swift o'er the shuddering isles that line the bay The red flags wave, and battering engines play; Howe leads aland the interminable train, While his bold brother still bestorms the main, Great Albion's double pride; both famed afar On each vext element, each world of war; Where British rapine follows peaceful toil, And murders nations but to seize their spoil. Wide sweep the veteran myriads o'er the strand, Outnumbering thrice the raw colonial band; Flatbush and Harlem sink beneath their fires, Brave Stirling yields, and Sullivan retires. In vain sage Washington, from hill to hill, Plays round his foes with more than Fabian skill, Retreats, advances, lures them to his snare, To balance numbers by the shifts of war. For not their swords alone, but fell disease Thins his chill camp and chokes the neighboring seas. The baleful malady, from Syrius sent, floats in each breeze, impesting every tent, Strikes the young soldier with the morning ray, And lays him lifeless ere the close of day, Far from his father's house, his mother's care, And all the charities that nursed him there. Damp'd is the native rage that first impell'd The insulted colons to the battling field; When first their high-soul'd sentiment of right And full-vein'd vigor nerved their arm to fight. For stript of health, benumb'd thy vital flood, Thy muscles lax'd and decomposed thy blood, What is thy courage, man? a foodless flame, A light unseen, a soul without a frame.