Classic Poem

When Britain determined to tax us at pleasure,
We rose as one Man, and opposed the measure;
Not liking the Pilgrimage, I can assure ye,
Of going to England for Trial by Jury.
Therefore for Freedom alone we are fighting;
For that sort of Freedom was not so inviting.

To Edicts of Britain subjection refusing,
We set up a Government of our own chusing.
The Guardians of Freedom resolv'd to maintain it,
And publish'd a long Bill of Rights to explain it.
For its for Freedom alone we are fighting:
The name of all names which true Freemen delight in.

We fondly imagin'd that all future Story
Should tell of our Justice, our Freedom and Glory:
We laugh'd at Oppression, not dreaming or fearing
That Men would be banish'd without charge or hearing;
For Freedom indeed we supposed we were fighting;
But this sort of Freedom's not very inviting.

If they with our Enemies have been partakers,
Then prove it in God's name, and punish the Quakers:
But if there is nothing alleged but Suspicion,
What honest Man's safe from this State-Inquisition?
If such be the Freedom for which we are fighting,
This sample, good Folks, is not very inviting.

When good Men are seiz'd on, who boldly defie all
The malice of Hell, and demand a fair Trial —
The cause of refusal you vainly dissemble:
" The Churchmen must bend, and the Quakers shall tremble. "
Since this is the Freedom for which we are fighting,
The old-fashioned Freedom was much more inviting.

When Quakers and Churchmen have suffer'd your pleasure —
Their Worship and Consciences shap'd to your measure —
The Catholics then may expect Penal Laws,
Whereby we shall have one Religion and Cause.
This, this is the Freedom for which you are fighting:
And let all who think it so, call it inviting.