And with yourselves let John Burgoyne retire To reign the monarch, whom your hearts admire. Britain, at last to arrest your lawless hand, Rises the genius of a generous land, Our injured rights bright Gallia's prince defends, And from this hour that prince and we are friends; Feuds, long upheld, are vanished from our view. Once we were foes--but for the sake of you-- Britain, aspiring Briton, now must bend-- Can she at once with France and us contend, When we alone, remote from foreign aid, Her armies captured, and distressed her trade? Britain and we no more in combat join, No more, as once, in every sea combine; Dead is that friendship which did mutual burn, Fled is the sceptre, never to return; By sea and land, perpetual foes we meet, Our cause more honest, and our hearts as great; Lost are these regions to Britannia's reign, Nor need these strangers of their loss complain,[162] Since all, that here with greedy eyes they view, From our own toil to wealth and empire grew. Our hearts are ravished from our former queen Far as the ocean God hath placed between, They strive in vain to join this mighty mass Torn by convulsions from its native place. As well might men to flaming Hecla join The huge high Alps, or towering Appenine: In vain they send their half-commissioned tribe, And whom they cannot conquer, strive to bribe; Their pride and madness burst our union chain, Nor shall the unwieldy mass unite again. Nor think that France sustains our cause alone; With gratitude her helping hand we own, But hear, ye nations--Truth herself can say We bore the heat and danger of the day: She calmly viewed the tumult from afar, We braved each insult, and sustained the war: Oft drove the foe, or forced their hosts to yield, Or left them more than once a dear bought field-- 'Twas then, at last, on Jersey plains distrest, We swore to seek the mountains of the west, There a free empire for our seed obtain, A terror to the slaves that might remain.[163] Peace you demand, and vainly wish to find Old leagues renewed, and strength once more combined-- Yet shall not all your base dissembling art Deceive the tortures of a bleeding heart-- Yet shall not all your mingled prayers that rise Wash out your crimes, or bribe the avenging skies; Full many a corpse lies mouldering on the plain That ne'er shall see its little brood again: See, yonder lies, all breathless, cold, and pale, Drenched in her gore, Lavinia of the vale;[C] The cruel Indian seized her life away, As the next morn began her bridal day!-- This deed alone our just revenge would claim, Did not ten thousand more your sons defame. Returned, a captive, to my native shore, How changed I find those scenes that pleased before! How changed those groves where fancy loved to stray, When spring's young blossoms bloom'd along the way; From every eye distils the frequent tear,