English

[A New Version OF AN O LD S ONG ]

When Abraham spends without measure,
Sending armies and navies afar,
Who fills up the chests of his treasure,
Who tightens the sinews of war?
Undaunted by danger or omen,
'T is the In-ter-nal Revenue,
That flaunts in the face of the foeman
The flag of the Red, White, and Blue.

Each stamp breaks a link of our fetters,

Were I to draw Grief's picture to the life,
I'd take't from you now mourning for your wife:
Armes folded, fixed eyes, and full of tears,
Repeated sighes, neglected cloaths and hairs,
Pale face, no words but what are pumpt by force,
Small difference is betwixt you and a corse.
Sure 'tis not you but your ghost, come to tell
How much you lov'd your lady, and how wel,
That having but one soul between you two,
She being gone, you had no more to do
But vanish strait; such power hath love to make

As from a window, in the wane of night,
With starry views , I feasted wand'ring sight,
I saw L IBERIA watch the rising day,
Whose lustre was to light her friend away!
That friend , whose kindred passion serv'd to prove,
The promis'd ardour of her brother's love!
That brother's love, which, tho' it meets regard,
Remains uncrown'd , with the yet-hop'd reward!
As, in some overcast and dismal day,
We start, to see the sun, at once, break way ,
So, at that hour, to see such charms advance,

There was a jolly shepherd lad,
And Colin was his name,
And all unknown to her old dad,
He sometimes to see Peggy came —
The object of his flame.

One day of his absence too secure,
Her father thunder'd at the door,
When, fearing of his frown,
Says she, " dear love the chimney climb;"
" I can't," cries he, " there is not time
" Besides, I should tumble down."

Here's all her geer, her wheel, her work;
These little bobbins to and fro,
How oft I've seen her fingers jerk,
Her pretty fingers, white as snow.

Each object to me is so dear,
My heart at sight on't throbbing goes;
'Twas here she sat her down, and here
She told me she was Colin's Rose.

II.

This poesy for her when she's dress'd,

Come, soldiers, join a Yankee song,
And cheer us, as we march along,
With Yankee voices, full and strong,—
Join in chorus all;
Our Yankee notions here we bring,
Our Yankee chorus here we sing,
To make the Dixie forest ring
With Old F ANEUIL H ALL !

When first our fathers made us free,
When old King George first taxed the tea,
They swore they would not bend the knee,
But armed them one and all!
In days like those the chosen spot
To keep the hissing water hot,
To steep the tea leaves in the pot,

Come, freemen of the land,
Come meet the great demand,
True heart and open hand,—
Take the loan!
For the hopes the prophets saw,
For the swords your brothers draw,
For liberty and law,
Take the loan!

Ye ladies of the land,
As ye love the gallant band
Who have drawn a soldier's brand,
Take the loan!
Who would bring them what she could,
Who would give the soldier food,
Who would staunch her brothers' blood,
Take the loan!

All who saw our hosts pass by,

When we behold her angel face,
Or when she sings with heav'nly grace,
In what we hear or what we see,
So ravishing 's the harmony,
The melting soul, in rapture lost,
Knows not which charm enchants it most.

Sounds that made hills and rocks rejoice,
Amphion's lute, the Syren's voice,
Wonders with pain receiv'd for true
At once find credit, and renew.
No charms like Clavering's voice surprise,
Except the magic of her eyes.

I.

Keen! but obscure destroyer! cou'd you see,
How your wit's warmth has fledg'd my flutt'ring soul!
You, who have oar'd , wou'd also pilot me,
And not thus tempt the race, yet hide the goal!

II.

You bid me come , but, ah! you say not where ,
Such soft, such soul-inspiring graces live!
Tell me but that , and I'll, at once, be there ,
With all the speed, that hope-wing'd love can give.

III.

You're, now, the ignis fatuus of desire!
You tempt my wishes, with a wily spark;

High, on the summit of a craggy rock ,
Whose harden'd sides resist the billows' shock;
Whose cliffy brow, mens eyes, with horror, view,
O'erlooking, proudly, land , and ocean , too:
There stands a roomy cave , by nature, made,
To knit , in just embraces, light , and shade :
Its spacious mouth the sun's up-rising greets,
Admits his lustre , but repels his heats!
Arriv'd, incumbent on the ruffled air,
She sees rude globes the floating forest tear:
Her sons, o'er match'd , like men, untaught to yield;