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AN ODE, IN HONOR OF THE PENNSYLVANIA MILITIA, AND A [...] BAND OF REGULAR TROOPS, UNDER THE COMMAND OF Gen. George Washington; WHO IN THE DEPTH OF WINTER, IN THE YEAR 1776, TURNED THE TIDE OF FORTUNE AGAINST BRITAIN, AND REPULSED HER FORCES TO THE BANKS OF THE RIVER DELAWARE.
"But rare as comets Washingtons are found."
ALBANY:— PRINTED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS
1800.
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AN ODE, &c.
I.
NOW the foe had pierced far,
Ireful, in vindictive mood,
Where the mighty Delaware
Pours his full resounding flood.—
II.
All behind a bleeding soil—
Every pleasant seat laid waste,
Where the soldier rov'd for spoil,
Or deflow'r'd the virgin chaste.
III.
Now before in prospect lies
Pennsylvania's happy state,
Where the blooming arts arise,
And the smiling Muses wait.
IV.
Satan when from hell he came,
Saw this new created earth,
And with hate's infernal flame
View'd its origin and birth:—
V.
Thus the British Chiefs, whom pain,
And anger fills with keenest smart,
When black malice swells the vein,
Or pale envy checks the heart!
VI.
"Ha!" say they, "yon rebel race
"Must recede o'er hill and plain,
"And this soil shall yet embrace
"Many a youthful warrior slain:—
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VII.
"Many an aged hoary head,
"Bare to winter's cloudy sky,
"On the ground shall make his bed,
"And beneath the cold winds lie—
VIII.
"Maids shall mingle bursting tears
"With the matron's heavy moan,
"While her infant's life she fears,
"On the stormy mountains thrown!"
IX.
Savage and contemptuous foe!
God shall disappoint your hope—
Neither tears nor blood shall flow
On the grisly mountain's top!—
X.
For our sons in noble rage,
O'er their native Delaware
Hasten quickly to engage,
And turn back th' infernal war!
XI.
See in noble strength of soul
Philadelphia pour each band,
As the waves of ocean roll
In succession to the land.—
XII·
Susquehannah's patriot tide
Sends her gallant marksmen forth,
Darting from her rocky side,
Thousands of distinguish'd worth.—
XIII.
Fair Ohio gladly stem'd
By the trading Indian swain:
Monongahela ever fam'd
For th' unhappy Braddock slain;—
XIV.
In compassion to the stream
Of their sister Delaware,
Send the bounding youths that gleam
Each in armour like a star:—
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XV.
Gallant youths! when you return
From the field of hostile play,
Annually a garland worn,
Shall give honor to the day:—
XVI.
Woodland maids shall deck the scene,
And your brows encircle still
With a sprig of Ever-green
From their native Laurel-hill.
XVII.
Say, shall storms that rudely play
Round the Allegany head,
Give the warrior's bands delay,
To the great achievement led?
XVIII.
No! the heav'ns enkindled flame—
Fires that in the bosom beat;
Thoughts of virtue and of fame,
Lend the soul immortal heat.
XIX.
All along the journey vast,
Bleak-wind hills oppose in vain;
But the bleak-wind hills are past,
And the warriors rush amain.
XX.
See from Tuskarora's height,
Bending to the eastward on,
Thousand bayonets gild the sight,
Or reflect the rising sun.—
XXI.
Now they meet the bounding flood;
Hear the British cannon roar!
See the Hessian marshall'd brood!
Trenton crowns the distant shore.
XXII.
You have seen a mountain's brow,
And the streams that tumble thence,
Mingling in the plains below,
With a happy confluence:—
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XXIII.
Thus the diff'rent reg'ments join
Of militia from the state,
With the vet'ran troops combine,
And for shout of battle wait.
XXIV.
Heroes pierce the wint'ry wave,
Flush'd with valor every vein!
Give to Hessian chiefs a grave,
On fair Trenton's bow'ry plain.—
XXV.
Fifteen hundred of that race,
Slain in fight, or prisoners made,
Doth the warriors' band embrace
With a circling ambuscade.—
XXVI.
When the news in New-York Town
Sounded in the ears of Howe,
Wrath gave wrinkles to his frown!
And he made the infernal vow:
XXVII.
"Death shall mangle ev'ry joint!
"Spoil the virgin—stab the male!
"Dart the bayonet's gleaming point!
"Ruin, havoc shall prevail!
XXVIII.
"See from Brunswick quickly sped,
"Crimson standards flush the air!
"Squadrons by Cornwallis led,
"Quick to Delaware's banks repair!—
XXIX.
"Full revenge is mine to-day!
(Then the bloody warrior said)
"And our loss shall these repay!—
"Rouse the sleepy cannonade!
XXX.
"Grenadiers—brigades of Hesse,
"Scale the bridged floods between—
"In the war's tempestuous chace
"Let your troops be foremost seen!
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XXXI.
"Wipe the foul disgrace away
"Of your brethren, captive made—
"Shew your German rage to-day!
"And o'er heaps of warriors tread!"
XXXII.
Not so swift, presuming chief!
Ere thou leav'st the wood-crown'd plain,
Many a mother shall have grief
For her son in battle slain!—
XXXIII.
For an equal war is wag'd
With the blood-stain'd setting sun.—
And the strength of battle rag'd
When the clouds of night came on.
XXXIV.
Now avails the warrior's skill—
Stratagems attend the night
When pale darkness clouds the hill,
And but stars diffuse their light.
XXXV.
What confusion wildly roll'd—
In each eye what looks were seen!
When the early morning told
Of our troops on Princeton's green!
XXXVI.
Now they tremble for their stores
And their vet'ran reg'ments there:
Disappointment on them pours
Her full urn of black despair!
XXXVII.
Now approaches what they fear'd!—
Now the contest is begun!
And the sound of battle heard,
Re-salutes the rising sun!
XXXVIII.
Now the soil is drench'd in blood!—
Many a hero gasping lies!—
Shouts of men—artillery loud,
Rend the wieldy, bending skies!
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XXXIX.
Drench'd in blood, is Princeton's plain,
(Where the Muse that breathes the lay,
Free from care and anxious pain,
Sported many a summer's day.—
XL.
Little thought she on that day,
That her lyre should yet be strung
From the tales of love's soft lay,
To the deeds of warriors sung.—
XLI.
Deeds of war, of which the green,
On whose shaven brow she stray'd,
Is itself the hapless scene,
And the gasping hero's bed!)
XLII.
Bravely yet the day is fought—
Vict'ry hangs in even scale.—
Ah! sweet heav'n! ah why that shot!
By which the noble MERCER fell!
XLIII.
Oh ye Britons! inhumane!
Why re-wound the bleeding chief?
Cruel actions fix a stain
On what valor doth achieve.
XLIV.
In the gallant strife of death,
See in stable columns move
Fair New-England's sons, that breathe
Noble fire and patriot love.—
XLV.
To the right their ranks unfold,
And firm proof of valor shew;
While the Philadelphians bold,
Pierce the centre of the foe!
XLVI.
Sons of valor—sons of ease,
Who on plesure's lap were laid:
Skill'd in arts that gently please—
Soft and elegantly bred.—
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XLVII.
But no depths of winter's snow
Could the march of these repress—
Braving every storm that blows,
With a vet'ran hardiness.
XLVIII.
Such the power of virtuous thoughts—
Kindling fame through ev'ry age:
See them pour their steady shot,
With a more than Lion's rage!
XLIX.
"Come, brave souls! sustain that shock!"
(Mifflin, gallant Mifflin said;
Firm as is the sea-beat rock
On the surging ocean's bed!)
L.
"Rifle-men, attack that flank!—
"Pour your bushy ambuscade!—
"See from many a shatter'd rank,
"Britons on the field lie dead!!"
LI.
But at last I see the scale
Of Britannia kick the beam!
And the shouts of joy prevail
Where the patriots' bayonets gleam!
LII.
See the British troops give way!
To superior worth they yield—
While the spirit of dismay
Drives in carnage o'er the field!
LIII.
But the swift pursuit is o'er,
And soft mercy heals the wound
Of the fainting, who implore
Mercy on the ensanguine'd ground.
LIV.
Who is this that guides their might?
Gives to each brigade its place?
And amidst batallions bright,
Steps with majesty and grace?
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LV.
Mild his eye—his look serene
Placid as the evening sun;
Stately in his make and mien!
'Tis the noble WASHINGTON!
LVI.
Hail! renow'n'd, immortal Chief!
Conquests on thy banners wait!—
Bid the brooding shades of grief
Fly from every happy state!
LVII.
Fabius-like, thy name shall dwell
Ever with immortal fame!
And thy praise run parallel
Even with great Scipio's name!
LVIII.
Whom resembling, may thy age
See the pride of battle cease,
And the war that fiercely rage
Leave thy country blest with peace.
THE END.