He stood amidst Columbia's sons, He stood amidst dismounted guns, He fought amidst heart-rending groans, The tatter'd sail, the tottering mast. Then, round about, his ship he wore, And charged his guns with vengeance sore, And more than Etna shook the shore-- The foe confess'd the contest vain. In vain they fought, in vain they sail'd, That day; for Britain's fortune fail'd, And their best efforts nought avail'd To hold dominion on Champlain. So, down their colors to the deck The vanquish'd struck--their ships a wreck-- What dismal tidings for Quebec, What news for England and her prince! For, in this fleet, from England won, A favorite project is undone: Her sorrows only are begun-- And she may want, and very soon, Her armies for her own defence. A DIALOGUE AT WASHINGTON'S TOMB Genius of Virginia--and--Virginia. _Genius._ Who are these that lawless come Washington! too near thy tomb?-- Are they those who, long before, Came to subjugate this shore?-- Are they those whom he repell'd, Captured, or imprison'd held? Or the sons of those of old Cast in nature's rudest mould,-- Dear Virginia, can it be? What a stain is laid on thee! _Virginia._ Such a stain as I do swear Fills my swelling heart with care How to wash away the stain, How to be myself again. From my breast the hero rose, In my soil his bones repose: But this insult to thy shade, Washington, shall be repaid. _Genius._ Dear Virginia! tell me how?-- Tell me not, or tell me now, Can you wield the bolts of Jove, Seize the lightnings from above? Tear the mountain from its base To confound this hated race, Who, with hostile step, presume To violate the honor'd tomb Of my bravest, noblest son, Of th' immortal Washington! _Virginia._ Not the artillery of the sky, Not the vengeance from on high Did I want, to guard my son, I have lightnings of my own! But I wanted---- _Genius._ ----Wanted what? Tell me now, or tell me not. _Virginia._ Men, whom Washington had taught, Men of fire, and men of thought, All their spirits in a glow, Ever ready for the foe; Born to meet the hostile shock, Sturdy as the mountain oak-- Active, steady, on their guard, For the scene of death prepared; Such I wanted--say no more; Time, perhaps, may such restore. _Genius._ By the powers that guard this spot, Want them longer you shall not, I, the patron of your land, From this moment take command, Kindle flames in every breast, Thirst of vengeance for the past; Vengeance, that from shore to shore Shall dye your bay with english gore, And see them leave their thousands slain, If they dare to land again: This is all I choose to say-- Seize your armour--let's away! SIR PETER PETRIFIED On the Modern Sir Peter Parker's[207] Expedition to Kent Island in Chesapeake Bay. --1814--