In climes remote, beyond the setting sun, Beyond the Atlantic wave, his rage begun. Alas! poor country, how with pangs unknown To Britain did thy filial bosom groan! What savage armies did thy realms invade, Unarm'd, and distant from maternal aid! Thy cottages with cruel flames consumed, 320 And the sad owner to destruction doom'd; Mangled with wounds, with pungent anguish torn, Or left to perish naked and forlorn! What carnage reek'd upon thy ruin'd plain! What infants bled! what virgins shriek'd in vain! In every look distraction seem'd to glare, Each heart was rack'd with horror and despair. To Albion then, with groans and piercing cries, America lift up her dying eyes; To generous Albion pour'd forth all her pain, 330 To whom the wretched never wept in vain. She heard, and instant to relieve her flew, Her arm the gleaming sword of vengeance drew; Far o'er the ocean wave her voice was known, That shook the deep abyss from zone to zone: She bade the thunder of the battle glow, And pour'd the storm of lightning on the foe; Nor ceased till, crown'd with victory complete, Pale Spain and France lay trembling at her feet. Her fears dispell'd, and all her foes removed, 340 Her fertile grounds industriously improved, Her towns with trade, with fleets her harbours crown'd, And plenty smiling on her plains around: Thus blest with all that commerce could supply, America regards with jealous eye, And canker'd heart, the parent, who so late Had snatch'd her gasping from the jaws of fate; Who now, with wars for her begun, relax'd, With grievous aggravated burthens tax'd, Her treasures wasted by a hungry brood 350 Of cormorants, that suck her vital blood; Who now of her demands that tribute due, For whom alone the avenging sword she drew. Scarce had America the just request Received, when, kindling in her faithless breast, Resentment glows, enraged sedition burns, And, lo! the mandate of our laws she spurns! Her secret hate, incapable of shame Or gratitude, incenses to a flame, Derides our power, bids insurrection rise, 360 Insults our honour, and our laws defies; O'er all her coasts is heard the audacious roar, "England shall rule America no more!" Soon as on Britain's shore the alarm was heard, Stern indignation in her look appear'd; Yet, both to punish, she her scourge withheld From her perfidious sons who thus rebell'd; Now stung with anguish, now with rage assail'd, Till pity in her soul at last prevail'd, Determined not to draw her penal steel 370 Till fair persuasion made her last appeal. And now the great decisive hour drew nigh, She on her darling patriot cast her eye; His voice like thunder will support her cause, Enforce her dictates, and sustain her laws; Rich with her spoils, his sanction will dismay,