'Tis great Montgomery demands the tear:
The brave M Pherson's fate we'll also mourn;
And Cheeseman, to his country no less dear,
Nor great, nor brave-from her forever torn.

Could prayers or tears avert the dreadful blow,
Could piercing sighs recall the once-lost breath,
Then would our briny torrents ceaseless flow,

Until we'd draw them from the arms of death.

But, ah! they're gone! they now are past relief:
Their fate we mourn in vain-in vain we weep:
Our fears will not avail-our boundless grief

Can ne'er awake them from their deadly sleep.

Stretch'd on the hostile plain, they breathless layTheir mortal eyes are closed in endless night: But, then, their souls are fled to endless day,Methinks I see them near the world of light!

Wrapp'd up in ecstasy, I now behold

The glorious gates of heaven open wide:
Millions of seraphs, clothed in robes of gold,
Enclose the heroes in on every side.

Chief of the band, illustrious Warren's seen,
Sweetness ineffable beams in his face:

Piercing his eyes-though piercing, still serene—
Awful his looks-yet, in each look a grace.

A wreath of laurel does his brow surround;
A crown of glory does adorn his head;
And on his breast is seen the purple wound

Through which, from earth, his soul with honour
fled.

Warren is sent to greet his much-loved friends:
To him the lovely, gentle task is given

Safe to conduct them where joy never ends,
And bid them welcome to the bliss of heaven.

183 THE SWEETS OF LIBERTY.

From the Pennsylvania Evening Post, February 27th, 1777.

How blest is he who, unconstrain❜d,
Obeys kind nature's equal laws!
Who fears no power by might maintain'd,
And boldly vindicates his country's cause.

Fortune's attacks, secure, he braves,
Firmly prepared for any chance:
None tremble at her frowns but slaves,
Whose dastard fears their abject hopes enhance.

With thee, who treads the eternal snows
Of distant Greenland's icy coast,
Or, scorch'd beneath the line, he glows,
By adverse deities unkindly toss'd.

His roving steps, uncurb'd by dread,

From clime to clime can freely roam:
He goes where choice or fortune lead,
Freedom his guide, and all the world his home.
The face of war he nobly dares,

In freedom's cause prepared to bleed;
And, soldier-like, defies all cares

But such as bounteous Heaven hath long decreed. Conscious of worth, his generous soul

To stoop to lawless power disdains;

No threats his principles control; He e'en enjoys his liberty in chains. 'Tis not ambition's giddy strife,

But justice, feeds the hero's fire:
Th' emblazon'd joys of public life
May please his fancy-not his breast inspire.
Hail, genius of our bleeding land!

Whose smiles confer a deathless name:
Thy glorious cause nerves every hand,
To pluck the laurel from the brow of Fame.

184 THE HEADS; OR, THE YEAR 1776.

From the Pennsylvania Evening Post, April 17, 1777.

YE wrong heads and strong heads, attend to my strains; Ye clear heads, and queer heads, and heads without

brains:

Ye thick skulls, and quick skulls, and heads great and small,

And ye heads that aspire to be heads over all.

Derry down, &c.

Ye ladies, (I would not offend for the world,)
Whose bright heads and light heads are feather'd and

curl'd,

The mighty dimensions Dame Nature surprise,
To find she'd so grossly mistaken the size.
Derry down, &c.

And ye petit maitres, your heads I might spare,
Encumber'd with nothing but powder and hair;

Who vainly disgrace the true monkey race,
By transplanting the tail from its own native place.
Derry down, &c.

Enough might be said, durst I venture my rhymes,
On crown'd heads and round heads of these modern
times:

This slippery path let me cautiously tread;

The neck else will answer, perhaps, for the head.
Derry down, &c.

The heads of the church, and the heads of the state,
Have taught much, and wrote much-too much to

repeat:

On the neck of corruption, uplifted, 'tis said,
Some rulers, alas! are too high by the head.
Derry down, &c.

Ye schemers and dreamers of politic things,
Projecting the downfall of kingdoms and kings,
Can your wisdom declare how this body is fed,
When the members rebel and wage war with the head?
Derry down, &c.

Expounders, confounders, and heads of the law,
I bring case in point-don't point out a flaw:
If reason be treason, what plea shall I plead ?
To your chief I appeal, for your chief has a head.
Derry down, &c.

On Britannia's bosom sweet Liberty smiled:
The parent grew strong whilst she foster'd the child.
Ill-treating her offspring, a fever she bred,

Which contracted her limbs and distracted her head.
Derry down, &c.

Ye learned state doctors, your labours are vain-
Proceeding by bleeding to settle her brain;
Much less can your art the lost members restore:
Amputation must follow, perhaps something more.
Derry down, &c.

Pale goddess of whim! when, with cheeks lean or full,

Thy influence seizes an Englishman's skull,
He blunders, yet wonders his schemes ever fail,
Though often mistaking the head for the tail.
Derry down, &c.

185 TO THE MEMORY OF MAJOR FLEMING AND LIEUTENANT YATES,

Of the First Virginia Battalion, who fell at Princeton, January 3, 1777.
From the Pennsylvania Evening Post, February 1, 1777.

ADDRESSED TO VIRGINIAN YOUTH.

PERMIT an artless muse, in votive lays,
To speak in Fleming's and in Yeates's praise;
And, in a grateful strain, to tell

How well they fought, how well they fell.

When Freedom's cause, by base, tyrannic hands, Was seeming hurt, yet shined in distant landsWhen fair Virginia nigh a spoil was made, And thought bereft of liberty and trade, We saw these youths* with honest rage pursue The daring foet who would their land subdue:

*Major Fleming was in his twenty-first year, and Mr. Yeates about the same age.

† Lord Dunmore and the English troops.