Poems relating to the American Revolution / Philip Freneau ; with an introductory memoir and notes by Evert A. Duyckinck [electronic text]

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Title
Poems relating to the American Revolution / Philip Freneau ; with an introductory memoir and notes by Evert A. Duyckinck [electronic text]
Author
Freneau, Philip Morin, 1752-1832
Publication
New York: W.J. Widdleton
1865
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http://name.umdl.umich.edu/BAD9545.0001.001
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"Poems relating to the American Revolution / Philip Freneau ; with an introductory memoir and notes by Evert A. Duyckinck [electronic text]." In the digital collection American Verse Project. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/BAD9545.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 22, 2025.

Pages

EMANCIPATION FROM BRITISH DEPENDENCE.

Libera nos, Domine —Deliver us, O Lord,Not only from British Dependence, but also,
FROM a junto that labour for absolute power, Whose schemes disappointed, have made them look sour, From the lords of the council, who fight against freedom, Who still follow on where delusion shall lead 'em.
From the group at St. James's that slight our Petitions, And fools that are waiting for further submissions — From a nation whose manners are rough and abrupt, From scoundrels and rascals, whom gold can corrupt.
From pirates sent out by command of the king To murder and plunder, but never to swing; From Wallace, and Graves, and Vipers, and Roses,* 1.1 Whom, if heaven pleases, we'll give bloody noses.

Page 24

From the valiant Dunmore, with his crew of banditti, Who plunder Virginians at Williamsburg city, From hot-headed Montague, mighty to swear, The little fat man, with his pretty white hair.
From bishops in Britain, who butchers are grown, From slaves, that would die for a smile from the throne, From assemblies, that vote against Congress proceedings, (Who now see the fruit of their stupid misleadings.)
From Tryon the mighty, who flies from our city, And swell'd with importance disdains the committee: (But since he is pleas'd to proclaim us his foes, What the devil care we where the devil he goes.)
From the caitiff, lord North, who would bind us in chains, From our noble king Log, with his tooth-full of brains, Who dreams, and is certain (when taking a nap) He has conquered our lands, as they lay on his map.
From a kingdom that bullies, and hectors, and swears, I send up to heaven my wishes and prayers That we, disunited, may freemen be still, And Britain go on —to be damn'd if she will.
[1775.]

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