Vain were their hopes--the poison'd darts of hell, Glanced from your flinty shield, and harmless fell. All this you bore--beyond it all you rose, Nor ask'd despotic laws to crush your foes. Mild was your language, temperate though severe; And not less potent than Ithuriel's spear To touch the infernals in their loathsome guise, Confound their slanders and detect their lies. All this you braved--and, now, what task remains, But silent walks on solitary plains: To bid the vast luxuriant harvest grow, The slave be happy and secured from wo-- To illume the statesmen of the times to come With the bold spirit of primeval Rome; To taste the joys your long tried service brings, And look, with pity, on the cares of kings:-- Whether, with Newton, you the heavens explore, And trace through nature the creating power, Or, if with mortals you reform the age, (Alike, in all, the patriot and the sage) May peace and soft repose, attend you, still, In the lone vale, or on the cloud-capp'd hill, While smiling plenty decks the abundant plain, And hails Astrea to the world again. ON THE PROSPECT OF WAR, AND AMERICAN WRONGS. Americans! rouse at the rumors of war, Which now are distracting the hearts of the nation, A flame blowing up, to extinguish your power And leave you, a prey, to another invasion; A second invasion, as bad as the old, When, northward or southward, wherever they stroll'd With heart and with hand, a murdering band Of vagrants, came over to ravage your land: For liberty's guard, you are ever array'd And know how to fight, in the sun or the shade. Remember the cause that induced you to rise When oppression advanced, with her king-making host, Twas the cause of our nation that bade you despise And drive to destruction all England's proud host, Who, with musket and sword, under men they adored, Rush'd into each village and rifled each shade To murder the planter, and ravish the maid. What though you arose, and resolved to be free, With spirit to humble all Europe combining, You had soon bit the dust or been drown'd in the sea By the slaves of a king, and a court all designing, Had not liberty swore she would cover your shore, Her colors display'd, and with vengeance repaid The myriads that came from a blood-thirsty isle Our groves, and our streams, and our beds to defile. Our churches defaced, by a merciless foe, Or made the poor captive's distress'd habitation: The prison-ship, fraught with its cargo of wo, Where thousands were starved, without shame or compassion; All these, and yet more, were the evils we bore From a motherly dame, Great Britain her name, From a nation, that once we accounted our friends, Who would shackle the country, that freedom defends.