And deeply griev'd with their departing laws, Arm in conviction of a righteous cause. But e'er I reach'd the great encampment's bound The friendly Genius on the way I found; Graceful he smil'd his azure locks he shook, While from his lips these flowing accents broke: "O mortal! guided by the fates and me, To view what thousands wish in vain to see; Now to my care the magic vest restore, Chearful return to what thou wast before, I to the shades this wond'rous mantle bear, And hang it safe in Fancy's temple there; Nor let its loss provoke thee to repine, The vest was Jove's, the will to lend it mine." So said the God, and blending with the light, I walk'd conspicuous and reveal'd to sight, No more impervious to the human view, But seeing all, and seen by others too. Now throngs on throngs on ev'ry side surround, Beneath the burthen groans the heaving ground, Those fam'd afar to drive the deadly shot, With truest level to the central spot; Those whom Virginia's vast dominion sends, From her chaste streams and intervening lands, And those who conscious of their country's claim, From Pennsylvania's happy climate came. These, and ten thousand more were scatter'd round In black battalions on the tented ground, Prepar'd, whene'er the trumpet's iron roar Should summon forth to all the woes of war, To hear with joy the loud alarming call, And rush perhaps to their own funeral. Just in the center of the camp arose An elm, whose shade invited to repose; Thither I rov'd, and at the cool retreat A brave, tho' rough-cast, soldier chanc'd to meet: No fop in arms, no feather on his head, No glittering toys the manly warrior had, His auburne face the least employ'd his care, He left it to the females to be fair; And tho't the men, whom shining trifles sway, But pageant soldiers for a sun-shine day. Marking my pensive step, his hand he laid On his hard breast, and thus the warrior said: "Stranger, observe, behold these warlike fields, Mark well the ills, that civil discord yields: No crimes of our's this vengeful doom require, Our city ravag'd and our towns on fire, Troops pour'd on troops to Britain's lasting shame, That threaten all with universal flame; These are the kings, the monarchs of the sea, Exerting power in lawless tyranny, These, hot for power, and burning for command, Would rule the ocean and subject the land; But while this arm the strength of man retains, While true-born courage revels through my veins, I'll spill my blood yon' hostile force to quell, And lawless power by lawful strength repel; This rough, black cannon shall our cause defend, This black, rough cannon is my truest friend. This, arm'd with vengeance, belching death afar, Confus'd their thousands marching to the war: Yet, deeply griev'd, the tears bedew my eyes, For this, the greatest of calamities;