170, "And leave his coursers starting for the race"; 172, "aloof from Styx"; 174, "Than leaky vessels;" 177, "thy ghastly sight restrains;" following 178, "May no gay flowers or vernal blooming tree Scent thy vile air or shade the face of thee!" 180, "nodded o'er Britannia's troops"; 183, "to your breast"; 185, "has fix'd us here"; 186, "Pray query"; 189, "fluent Percy"; 194, "our conduct down"; 196, "more brave"; 199, "my bloody stand." In place of lines 201-208, the 1775 version has the following: 'Till met the strength of each opposing force, Like blazing-stars in their etherial course That all on fire with rapid swiftness fly, Then clash and shake the concave of the sky. Twice we gave way, twice shunn'd the infernal rout, And twice you would have cry'd all hell's broke out. They fought like those who press for death's embrace, And laugh the grizly monarch in the face. Putnam's brave troops, your honor would have swore, Had robb'd the clouds of half their sulph'rous store, Call'd thunder down whence Jove his vengeance spreads, And drove it mix'd with lightning on our heads! What tho' Cop's-hill its black artillery play'd, Clouding the plains in worse than Stygian shade; Tho' floating batteries rais'd their dismal roar, Tho' all the navy bellow'd from the shore, They roar'd in vain, death claim'd from them no share, But helpless, spent their force in empty air. Alas! what scenes of slaughter I beheld, What sudden carnage flush'd the glutted field! Heaven gave the foe to thin my warlike train, For not a musket was discharg'd in vain; Yes, that short hour, while heaven forbore to smile, Made many widows in Britannia's isle, And shewing all what power supreme can do, Gave many orphans to those widows too. But Gage arouse, come lift thy languid head, Full fifty foes we pack'd off to the dead: Who feeling death, from their hot posts, withdrew, And Warren with the discontented crew-- Blest be the hand that laid his head so low, Not fifty common deaths could please me so-- But to be short, so quick our men came in, The hostile army was so very thin; We fix'd our bay'nets and resum'd the fray, Then forc'd their lines and made the dogs give way." Next rose Burgoyne and rais'd his brazen voice, And cry'd, "We have no reason to rejoice. Warren is dead--in that we all agree, Not fate itself is half so fix'd as he; But my suspecting heart bids me foredoom A thousand Warrens rising in his room-- Heaven knows I left my native country's air, In full belief of things that never were; Deceiv'd by Grant, I've sail'd thus far in vain, And like a fool may now sail back again-- Grant call'd them cowards--curse the stupid ass, Their sides are Iron and their hearts are brass-- Cowards he said, and lest that should not do, He pawn'd his oath and swore that they were so: O, were he here, I'd make him change his note,