In such a dilemma pray what should they do?

Hearts loyal, to whom should they look but to You?-- You know pretty well how to handle the spade, To dig their ca.n.a.ls and to make a parade;

The city is left to your valiant defence, And of course it will be but of little expence, Since there is an old fellow that looks somewhat sooty Who, gratis, will help you in doing your duty--

"In doing our duty!--'tis duty indeed "(Says a Tory) if this be the way that we speed; "We never loved fighting, the matter is clear-- "If we had, I am sure we had never come here.

"George we owned for our king, as his true loyal sons, "But why will he force us to manage his guns?-- "Who 'list in the army or cruise on the wave, "Let them do as they will--'tis their trade to be brave.

"Guns, mortars and bullets,[170] we easily face, "But when they're in motion--it alters the case; "To skirmish with Huddies[A] is all our desire "For though we can murder, we cannot stand fire.

[A] Capt. Huddy, an American Captain, who, after capitulating in a block-house, was hanged by refugees, called new levies.--_Freneau's note._

"To the standards of Britain we fled for protection, "And there we are gathered, a goodly collection; "And most of us think it is rather too hard "For refusing to arm to be put under guard;

"Who knows under guard what ills we may feel!-- "It is an expression that means a great deal-- "'Mongst the rebels they fine 'em who will not turn out, "But here we are left in a sorrowful doubt;--

"These Britons were always so sharp and so shifty-- "The rebels excuse you from serving when fifty, "But here we are counted such wonderful men "We are kept in the ranks, till we are four score and ten.

"Kicked, cuffed and ill treated from morning till night "We have room to conjecture that all is not right, "For Freedom we fled from our country's defence "And freedom we'll get--when death sends us hence.[171]

"If matters go thus, it is easy to see "That as idiots we've been, so slaves we shall be; "And what will become of that peaceable train "Whose tenets enjoin them from war to abstain?

"Our city commandant must be an odd shaver, "Not a single exception to make in their favour!-- "Come let us turn round and rebelliously sing, "Huzza for the Congress!--the de'il take the king."

[169] First published in the _Freeman's Journal_, June 10, 1782, prefaced by the following reprint of the proclamation taken from Rivington's _Royal Gazette_ of the 26th of June:

"By His Excellency Lieutenant-General JAMES ROBERTSON, _Governor of New York, &c., &c._ The Commander-in-chief having shown the great confidence he reposes in the Citizens of New York by trusting his Majesty's interest there, to their Zeal, Loyalty, and Gallantry, I persuade myself that every citizen will with alacrity claim his t.i.tle to a share of the Militia duty; that none may be deprived of this, and that those whose zeal would lead them to appear whenever called for, may not be called for too often, I think proper to declare:

"That all persons are to perform the Militia duty, excepting the Ministers of G.o.d's Word, his Majesty's Counsellors and princ.i.p.al servants whose avocations to religious and civil, necessarily prevents their attendance on Military duties.

"All persons who from age or infirmity are unable to act, may do duty by subst.i.tutes, providing those they offer are judged sufficient by the Colonel of the regiment, or commanding officer of the corps to which they belong.

"If any of the Gentlemen of the learned professions find themselves so usefully employed as to be induced to avoid the honour of appearing in person, they are supposed to be judges of the importance of their own time, and may act by proper subst.i.tutes.

"As no person deserves protection in a place of which he refuses to contribute to the defence; every person who refuses to appear when summoned to his Militia duty is to be confined in the Main-Guard by the Colonel or commanding Officer of the corps to which he belongs, where he is to be kept till further orders.

JAMES ROBERTSON.

New York, June 22, 1782."

[170] "Gun bullets in boxes."--_Ed. 1786._

[171] In place of this stanza, the edition of 1786 had the following:

"Provided the clergy but preach non-resistance "And pa.s.sive obedience--they wave their a.s.sistance; "But we--tho' we're sick and have death in our faces, "Must purchase a proxy to serve in our places."

A PICTURE OF THE TIMES[172]

With Occasional Reflections

Still round the world triumphant Discord flies, Still angry kings to b.l.o.o.d.y contest rise; Hosts bright with steel, in dreadful order plac'd, And ships contending on the watery waste; Distracting demons every breast engage, Unwearied nations glow with mutual rage; Still to the charge the routed Briton turns, The war still rages and the battle burns; See, man with man in deadly combat join, See, the black navy form the flaming line; Death smiles alike at battles lost or won-- Art does for him what Nature would have done.

Can scenes like these delight the human breast?-- Who sees with joy humanity distrest; Such tragic scenes fierce pa.s.sion might prolong, But slighted Reason says, they must be wrong.

Curs'd be the day, how bright soe'er it shin'd, That first made kings the masters of mankind; And curs'd the wretch who first with regal pride Their equal rights to equal men deny'd.

But curs'd o'er all, who first to slav'ry broke Submissive bow'd and own'd a monarch's yoke, Their servile souls his arrogance ador'd And basely own'd a brother for a lord; Hence wrath and blood, and feuds and wars began, And man turned monster to his fellow man.

Not so that age of innocence and ease When men, yet social, knew no ills like these; Then dormant yet, ambition (half unknown) No rival murder'd to possess a throne; No seas to guard, no empires to defend-- Of some small tribe the father and the friend.

The h.o.a.ry sage beneath his sylvan shade Impos'd no laws but those which reason made; On peace not war, on good not ill intent, He judg'd his brethren by their own consent; Untaught to spurn those brethren to the dust; In virtue firm, and obstinately just, For him no navies rov'd from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.

No slaves were doom'd to dig the glitt'ring ore; Remote from all the vain parade of state, No slaves in diamonds saunter'd at his gate, Nor did his breast the guilty pa.s.sions tear, He knew no murder and he felt no fear.

Was this the patriarch sage?--Then turn thine eyes And view the contrast that our age supplies; Touch'd from the life, I trace no ages fled, I draw no curtain that conceals the dead; To distant Britain let thy view be cast, And say the present far exceeds the past; Of all the plagues that e'er the world have curs'd, Name George the tyrant, and you name the worst!

What demon, hostile to the human kind, Planted these fierce disorders in the mind?

All urg'd alike, one phantom we pursue, But what has war with happiness to do?

In death's black shroud this gem can ne'er be found; Who deals for that the life-destroying wound, Or pines with grief to see a brother live, That life dissolving which we cannot give?

'Tis thine, Ambition!--Thee these horrors suit: Lost to the human, she a.s.sumes the brute; She proudly vain or insolently bold, Her heart revenge, her eye intent on gold, Sway'd by the madness of the present hour Mistakes for happiness extent of power; That shining bait which dropt in folly's way Tempts the weak mind, and leads the heart astray!

Thou happiness! still sought but never found, We, in a circle, chase thy shadow round; Meant all mankind in different forms to bless, Which yet possessing, we no more possess:-- Thus far remov'd and painted on the eye Smooth verdant fields seem blended with the sky, But where they both in fancied contact join In vain we trace the visionary line; Still as we chase, the empty circle flies, Emerge new mountains or new oceans rise.

[172] Contributed to the July 19, 1782, issue of the _Freeman's Journal_ over the signature "Philomeides." The t.i.tle in the 1786 edition was "Philosophical Reflections." I have used the original text.

PRINCE WILLIAM HENRY'S SOLILOQUY[173]

Occasioned by Public Rejoicings in Philadelphia for the birth of the Dauphin of France, son to Louis XVI

People are mad thus to adore the Dauphin-- Heaven grant the brat may soon be in his coffin--[174]

The honours here to this young Frenchman shown, Of right should be Prince George's, or my own; And all those wreathes that bloom on Louis now, Should hang, unfading, on my father's brow.

To these far sh.o.r.es with longing hopes I came, (By birth a Briton, not unknown to fame) Pleasures to share that loyalty imparts, Subdue the rebels, and regain their hearts.

Weak, stupid expectation--all is done!

Few are the prayers that rise for George's son; Nought through the waste of these wide realms I trace, But rage, contempt, and curses on our race, Hosts with their chiefs by bold usurpers won, And not a blessing left for George's son!

Here on these isles[A] (my terrors not a few) I walk attended by the Tory crew: These from the first have done their best to please, But who would herd with sycophants like these?

This exiled race, who their lost sh.o.r.es bemoan, Would bow to Satan, if he held our throne-- Rul'd by their fears--and what is meaner far, Have worshipp'd William only for his star!

To touch my hand their thronging thousands strove, And tir'd my patience with unceasing love-- In fame's fair annals told me I should live, But they, poor creatures, had no fame to give: Must Digby's royal pupil walk the streets, And smile on every ruffian that he meets; Or teach them, as he has done--he knows when-- That kings and princes are no more than men?

Must I alas disclose, to our disgrace, That Britain is too small for George's race?

Here in the west, where all did once obey, Three islands only, now, confess our sway; And in the east we have not much to boast, For _Hyder Ali_ drives us from the coast: Yield, rebels, yield--or I must go once more Back to the white cliffs of my native sh.o.r.e; (Where, in process of time, shall go sir Guy, And where sir Harry has returned to sigh, Whose hands grew weak when things began to cross, Nor made one effort to retrieve our loss) Oatmeal and Scottish kale pots round me rise, And Hanoverian turnips greet mine eyes;-- Welch goats and naked rocks my bosom swell, And Teague! dear Teague!--to thee I bid farewell-- Curse on the Dauphin and his friends, I say, He steals our honours and our rights away.

Digby--our anchors!--weigh them to the bow, And eastward through the wild waves let us plow: Such dire resentments in my bosom burn, That to these sh.o.r.es I never will return, 'Till fruits and flowers on Zembla's coast are known, And seas congeal beneath the torrid zone.

[A] New York and the neighbouring islands.--_Freneau's note._

[173] _Freeman's Journal_, July 24, 1782. Text from edition of 1786.

[174] The prayer of the prince was soon answered.