Written during captivity at Tripoli. WHEN the sweet smiling moon rolls her orb through the sky, And the white clouds are flying afar, Through the grove, While no danger is nigh, And with pensiveness utter a heart-broken sigh, O'er the earth hostile armies, in battle around, Like a flood, Flows with crimson the ground, And the groans of the dying unnumber'd around- Heaven hasten the time when the battle shall cease, When love, Like a dove, With the emblems of peace, Shall return to the ark, and all wretchedness cease, Then the vulture despair shall from misery fly, Shall keep From the fatherless eye, Nor disturb the repose of the brave with a sigh, 24 WASHINGTON'S BIRTH-DAY. No peerage we covet, no sceptres desire, And always with rapture his virtue she sings, O, widely diffuse it, ye winds, as ye blow; For the choicest of gifts that the God can bestow Oh! WASHINGTON, hail! whom the breath of pure With praises more sweet shall perfume, For Freedom, say, what did that foe of the Greek, Let the foes or the friends whom he massacred, speak, Ye unfetter'd freemen, examine each deed That made him renown'd or adored; Did conquering Cesar Rome's senate obey? Did he halt or retire from a summit of sway, Then, WASHINGTON, hail, &c. Did Athens, did Sparta one hero produce, Or Ah, no! if the wise but one patriot adept, 25 THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. Tune-" The Dauphin." CROWN'D with auspicious light, Thine emblems bless our sight, Nations admire thy rising dawn, An empire's born!—let cannons roar; Bid echo rend the sky; Let every heart adore High Heaven, our great ally. Illustrious era, hail Thy stars in union grow, Opposing mists dispel, And with fresh splendour glow. Let joy our hearts engage, The enrapturing smile of peace. No human genius e'er devised An empire's born, &c. Now, Fame, exert your powers, Through earth proclaim his praise. He once, in crimson fields of blood, And now, with an illustrious hand, An empire's born, &c. Discord aghast shall frown; Labour insure her crown, And useful arts appear. Then bend your spears to pruning-hooks, Break up the generous soil, While fruits of plenty round the land, Reward the reaper's toil. An empire's born, &c. Commerce, your sails display, An empire's born, &c. 26 THE RAISING. COME, muster, my lads, your mechanical tools, Your saws and your axes, your hammers and rules; Bring your mallets and planes, your level and line, And plenty of pins of American pine. For our roof we will raise, and our song still shall be, Come, up with the plates, lay them firm on the wall, Now hand up the girders, lay each in his place, |