M'Fingal: a modern epic poem, in four cantos. : [Nine lines in Latin from Horace]

M'FINGAL: CANTO SECOND, OR THE TOWN-MEETING, P. M.

THE Sun, who never 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to dine, Two hours had pass'd ••he midway line, And driving at his usual rate; Lash'd on his downward car of state. And now expired the short vacation, And dinner done in epic fashion; While all the crew beneath the trees, Eat pocket-pies, or bread and cheese; Nor shall we, like old Homer care To versify their bill of fare, For now each party, seasted well, Throng'd in, like sheep, at sound of bell, With equal spirit took their places; And meeting oped with three Oh yesses: When first the daring Whigs t' oppose, Again the great M'Fingal rose, Stretch'd magisterial arm ama••n, And thus assum'd th' accusing strain.

"Ye Whigs attend, and hear affrighted The crimes whereof ye stand indicted, The sins and follies past all compass, That prove you guilty or non compos. I leave the verdict to your senses, And jury of your consciences;

Which tho' they're neither good nor true, Must yet convict you and your crew, Ungrateful sons! a factious band, That rise against your parent-land! Ye viper'd race, that burst in strife, The welcome womb, that gave you life, Tear with sharp fangs and forked tongue, Th' indulgent bowels, whence you sprung; And scorn the debt of obligation You justly owe the British nation, Which since you cannot pay, your crew Affect to swear 'twas never due, Did not the deeds of England's Primate First drive your fathers to this climate, Whom jails and sines and ev'ry ill Forc'd to their good against their will? Ye owe to their obliging temper The peopling your new tangled empire, While ev'ry British act and canon Stood forth ••ou causa sine qua no••. Did they not send you charters 〈◊〉〈◊〉, And give you lands you own'd before, Permit you all to spill your blood, And drive out heathen where you could▪ On these mild terms, that conquest won, The realm you gain'd should be their own. Or when of late attack'd by those, Whom her connection made your foes, Did they not then, distrest in war, Send Gen'rals to your help from far, Whose aid you own'd in terms less haughty, And thankfully o'erpaid your quota? Say, at what period did they grudge To send you Governor or judge, With all their missionary crew, To teach you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and gospel too?

Brought o'er all felons in the nation, To help you on in population; Propos'd their Bishops to surrender, And made their Priests a legal tender, Who only ask'd in surplice clad, The simple ty the of all you had: And now to keep all knaves in awe, Have sent their troops t' establish law, And with gunpowder, fire and ball, Reform your people one and all. Yet when their insolence and pride Have anger'd all the world beside, When fear and want at once invade, Can you refuse to lend them aid; And rather risq••e your heads in fight, Than gratefully throw in your mite? Can they for debts make satisfaction, Should they dispose their realm by auction; And fell off Britain's goods and land all To France and Spain by inch of candle? Shall good king George, w••th want opprest, Insert his name in bankrupt list, And shut up shop, like failing merchant, That sears the bailiffs should make search in't; With poverty shall princes strive, And nobles lack whereon to live? Have they not rack'd their whole inventions, To feed their brats on posts and pensions, Made ev'n Scotch friends with taxes groan, And pick'd poor Ireland to the bone; Yet have on hand as well deserving, Ten thousand bastards left for starving? And can you now with conscience clear, Refuse them an asylum here, Or not maintain in manner sitting, These genuine sons of mother Britain?

〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••vade these crimes of blackest grain, You prate of liberty in vain, And strive to hide your vile designs, With terms abstruse like school-divines.

Your boasted patriotism is scarce, And country's love is but a farce; And after all the proofs you bring, We Tories know there's no such thing. Our English writers of great fame Prove public virtue but a name. Hath not* 1.1 Dalrymple show'd in print, And* 1.2 Johnson too, there's nothing in't? Produc'd you demonstration ample From other's and their own example, That self is still, in either faction, The only principle of action; The loadstone, whose attracting t••ther Keeps the politic world together: And spite of all your double-dealing, We Tories know 'tis so, by feeling.

Who heeds your babbling of transmitting Freedom to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of your begetting, Or will proceed as though there were a tie, Or obligation to posterity? We get 'em, bear 'em, bre••d and nurse; What has poster'ty done for us, That we, lest they their rights should lose Should trust our necks to gripe of ••oose?

And who believes you will not run? You're cowards, ev'ry mother's son; And should you offer to deny, We've 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to prove it by. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 th' opinion first, as refer••e, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your old Gen'ral, stout Sir Jeffery,

Who swore that with five thousand foot He'd rout you all, and in pursuit, Run thro' the land as easily, As camel thro' a needle's eye. Did not the valiant Col'nel Grant Against your courage make his slant, Affirm your universal failure In ev'ry principle of valour, And swear no scamp'rers e'er could match you, So swift, a bullet scarce could catch you? And will ye not confess in this, A judge most competent he is, Well skill'd on runnings to decide, As what himself has often tried? 'Twoul•• not methinks be labour lost, If you'd sit down and count the cost; And ere you call your Yankies out, First think what work you've set about. Have ye not rouz'd, his force to try on, That grim old beast, the British lion? And know you not that at a sup He's large enough to eat you up? Have you survey'd his jaws beneath, Drawn inventories of his teeth, Or have you weigh'd in even balance His strength and magnitude of talons? His roar would turn your boasts to fear, As easily as sour small-beer, And make your feet from dreadful fray, By native instinct▪ run away. Britain, depend on't, will take on her T' assert her dignity and honor, And ere she'd lose your share of pelf, Destroy your country and herself. For has not North declar'd they fight To gain substantial rev'nue by't,

Denied he'd ever deign to treat, Till on your knees and at his feet? And feel you not a trisling ague, From Van's Delenda est Carthago? For this, now Britain has come to't, Think you she has not means to do't? Has she not set to work all engines To spirit up the native Indians, Send on your backs a savage band, With each a hatchet in his hand, T' amuse themselves with scalping knives, And butcher children and your wives; That she may boast again with vanity, Her English national humanity? (For now in its p••••maeval sense, This term, human'ty, comprehends All things of which, on this fide hell, The human mind is capable; And thus 'tis well, by writers sage, Applied to Britain and to Gage.) And on this work to raise allies, She sent her duplicate of Guys, To drive, at diff••rent parts at once, on Her stout Guy Carlton and Guy Johnson; To each of whom, to send again ye Old Guy of Warwick were a ninny; Tho' the dun cow he fell'd in war, These killcows are his betters far.

And has she not assay'd her notes, To rouze your slaves to cut your throats, Sent o'er ambassadors with ••uineas, To bribe your blacks in Carolinas? And has not Ga••••, her missionary Turn'd many an 〈…〉〈…〉 a Tory, A•••• made 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Amer'can 〈◊〉〈◊〉 see grow, By 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a new converted Negro?

As friends to gov'rnment did not he Their slaves at Boston late set free; Enlist them all in black parade, Set off with regimental red? And were they not accounted then Among his very bravest men? And when such means she stoops to take, Think you she is not wide awake? As Eliphaz' good man in Job Own'd num'rous allies thro' the globe; Had brought the* 1.3 sto••es along the street To ratify a cov'nant meet, And ev'ry beast from lice to lions, To join in leagues of strict alliance: Has she not cring'd, in spite of pride, For like assistance for and wide? Was there a creature so despis'd, Its and she has not sought and priz'd? Till all this formidable league rose Of Indians, British troops and Negroes, And can you break these triple bands By all your workmanship of hands?"

" Sir, quoth Honorius, we presume You guess from past feats, what's to come, And from ••he mighty deeds of Gage, Foretell how fierce the war he'll wage. You doubtless recollected here The annals of his first great year: While wearying out the Tories' patience, He spent his breath in proclamations;

While all hi•• mighty noise and vapour Was used in wrangling upon paper; And boasted military 〈◊〉〈◊〉; Closed in the straining of his wits; While troops in Boston commons plac'd Laid nought but quires of paper was••e; While strokes alternate stu•••• ••'d ••he nation, Protest, address and proclamation; And speech ••et speech, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 clash'd wi••h fib, And Gage still answer'd, squib for squib,

Tho' this not all his time was lost on; He fortified the town of Boston; Built breast works that might l••nd assistance To keep the patriots at a distance; (For howsoe'er the rogues might 〈◊〉〈◊〉, He liked them best the saith 〈◊〉〈◊〉 off) Of mighty use and help to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 His courage, when 〈…〉〈…〉, And whence ••ight oft in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 station, He'd boldly pop his proclamation. Our hearts must in our bo•••• me ••••eeze At such heroic deeds as these."

"Vain, quoth the 'Squire, you'll find to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 At Gage's first triumphant your; For Providence, disp••••••d to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 us, Can use what instruments it please•• To pay a tax at Peter's wish, His chief cashier was once a Fish; An Ass, in ••alaam's sad disaster, Turn'd orator and sav'd hi•• master; A Goose plac'd centry on his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Preserv'd old Rome from desolation; An English Bishop's* 1.4 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of late Disclosed rebellions 'gainst the state;

So Frogs croak'd Pharaoh to repentance, And Lice revers'd the threat'ning sentence: And heav'n can ruin you at pleasure, By our scorn'd Gage, as well as Caesar. Yet did our hero in these days Pick up some laurel wreaths of praise. And as the statuary of Seville Made his crackt saint an exc'llent devil; So tho' our war few triumphs brings, We gain'd great same in other things. Did not our troops show much discerning, And skill your various arts in learning? Outwent they not each native Noodle By far in playing Yanky-doodle; Which, as 'twas your New-England tune; 'Twas marvellous they took so soon? And ere the year was fully thro', Did not they learn to ••oot it too; And such a dance as ne'er was known, For twenty miles on end lead down? Was there a Yanky trick you knew, They did not play as well as you? Did they not lay their heads together, And gain your art to tar and feather, When Col'nel Nesbitt thro' the town, In triumph bore the country-clown? Oh, what a glorious work to sing The ve••'ran troops of Britain's king, Advent'ring for th' heroic laurel, With bag of feathers and tar-barrel 〈◊〉〈◊〉 To paint the cart where culprits ride, And Nesbitt marching at its side, Great executioner and proud, Like hangman high on Holbourn road; And o'er the bright triumpha•• car The waving ensigns of the war!

As when a triumph Rome decreed, For great Calig'la's valiant deed, Who had subdued the British seas, By gath'••ing cockles from their base; In pompous ••ar the conqu'ror bore His captiv'd scallops from the shore, Ovations gain'd his crabs for fetching, And mighty seats of oyster-catching: O'er Yankies thus the war begun, They tarr'd and triumph'd over one; And sought and boasted thro' the season, With might as great, and equal reason.

Y•••• thus, tho' skill'd in vict'ry's toils, They boast, not unexpert, in wiles. For gain'd they not an equal same in The arts of f••crecy and scheming? In stratagems show'd mighty force, And moderniz'd the Trojan horse, Play'd o'er again those tricks Ulyssea••, In their fam'd Salem-expedition? For as that horse, the Poets tell ye, Bore Grecian armies in his belly; Till their full reck'ning run, with joy Their Sinon midwif'd them in Troy: So in one ship was Leslie bold Cramm'd with three hundred men in hold, Equipp'd for enterprize and sail, Like Jonas stow'd in womb of whale. To Marblehead in depth of night, The cautious vessel wing'd her flight. And now the sabbath's silent day Call'd all your Yankies off to pray; Remov'd each prying jealous neighbour, The scheme and vessel fell in labour; Forth from its hollow womb pour'd hastily The Myrmidons of Col'n••l Leslie:

Not thicker o'er the blacken'd strand The* 1.5 frogs' detachment rush'd to land, Equipp'd by onset or surprize To storm th' entrenchment of the mice. Thro' Salem strait without delay, The bold battalion took its way, March'd o'er a bridge in open sight Of sev'ral Yankies arm'd for fight, Then without loss of time, or men Veer'd round for Boston back again; And found so well their projects thrive, That ev'ry soul got home alive.

Thus Gage's arms did fortune bless With triumph, safety and success: But mercy is without dispute His first and darling attribute; So great it far outwent and conquer'd His military skill at Concord. There when the war he chose to wage Shone the benevolence of Gage; Sent troops to that ill-omen'd place On errands meer of special grace, And all the work he chose them for Was to† 1.6 prevent a civil war: And for that purpose he projected The only certain way t' effect it, To take your powder, stores and arms, And all your means of doing harms: As prudent folks take knives away, Lest children cut themselves at play. And yet tho' this was all his scheme, This war you still will charge on him;

And tho' he oft has swore and said it, Stick close to facts and give no credit. Think you, he wish'd you'd brave and beard him? Why, 'twas the very thing that scar'd him. He'd rather you should all have run, Than stay'd to fire a single gun. And for the civil war you lament, Faith, you yourselves must take the blame in't; For had you then, as he intended, Giv'n up your arms, it must have ended. Since that's no war, each mortal knows, Where one side only gives the blows, And th' other bears 'em; on reflection The most you'•••• call it is correction. Nor could the contest have gone higher, If you had ne'er return'd the fire; But when you shot, and not before, It then commenc'd a civil war. Else Gage, to end this controversy, Had but corrected you in mercy: Whom mother Britain old and wise, Sent o'er, the Col'nies to chastise; Command obedience on their peril Of ministerial whip and ferule; And since they ne'er must come of age, Govern'd and tutor'd them by Gage. Still more, that this was all their errand, The army's conduct makes apparent. What tho' at Lexington you can say They kil••'d a few they did not fancy, At Concord then, with manful popping, Discharg'd a round the ball to open? Yet when they saw your rebel-rout Determin'd still to hold it out; Did they not show their love to peace, And wish, that discord strait might cease,

Demonstrate, and by proofs uncommon, Their orders were to injure no man? For did not ev'ry Reg'lar run As soon as e'er you fir'd a gun; Take the first shot you sent them greeting, As meant their signal for retreating; And fearful if they staid for sport, You might by accident be hurt, Convey themselves with speed away Full twenty miles in half a day; Race till their legs were grown so weary, They'd scarce suffice their weight to carry? Whence Gage extols, from gen'ral hearsay, The great* 1.7 activ'ty of Lord Piercy; Whose brave example led them on, And spirited the troops to run; And now may boast at royal levees A Yanky-chace worth forty Chevys. Yet you as vile as they were kind, Pursued, like tygers, still behind, Fir'd on them at your will, and shut The town, as tho' you'd starve them out; And with† 1.8 parade prepost' rous hedg'd A ••••••ct to hold them there besieg'd; (Tho' Gage, whom proclamations call Your Gov'r•••••• and Vice-Admiral, Whose pow'r gubernatorial still Extends as far as Bunker's hill; Whose admiralty reaches clever, Near half a mile up Mystic river,

Whose naval force commands the seat, Can run away when'er he please) Scar'd troops of Tories into town, And burnt their hay and houses down, And menac'd Gage, unless he'd flee, To drive him headlong to the sea; As once, to faithless Jews a sign, The de'el, turn'd hog-reeve, did the swine,

But now your triumphs all are o'er; For see from Britain's angry shore With mighty ho••••s of valour join Her Howe, her Clinton and Burgoyne. As comets thro' the affrighted skies Pour baleful ruin, as they rife; As AE 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with infernal roar In conflagration sweeps the shore; Or as* 1.9 Abi••••h White when sent Our Marshfield friends to represent, Himself while dread array involves, Commissions, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, swords, resolves, In awful pomp descending down, Bore terror on the factious town: Not wi••h less 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these Gen••rals ••orth to fight. No more each 〈◊〉〈◊〉 † 1.10 Col'nel run. From w••••zzing beetles, as air-〈◊〉〈◊〉,

Thinks hornbugs bullets, or thro' scars Muskitoes takes for musketeers; Nor scapes, as tho' you'd gain'd allies From B••lz••bub's whole host of flies. No bug their warlike hearts appalls; They better know the ••ound of balls. I hear the di•• of battle bray, The trump of horror marks its way. I see a far the sack of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, The gallows strung with Whig-committees; Your Moderators triced, like 〈◊〉〈◊〉, And gate-posts graced with heads of Chairmen; Your Gen'rals sor wave-o••••rings hanging, And ladders throng'd with Priests haranguing. Wh•••• pill••ries glad the Tories' eyes With patriot-〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••or sacrifice! What whipping-posts your chosen race Admit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in embrace, While each hears off his crimes, 〈◊〉〈◊〉! Like Bunyan's pilgrim, on his back! Where then, when To ies scarce got clear, Shall Whigs and Congresses appear? What rock, and mountains shall you call To wrap you over with their fall, And save your heads in these sad weathers, From fire and sword, and tar and feathers For ••o, with British troops 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Again our Ne••••••t heaves in 〈◊〉〈◊〉: He comes, he comes, your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to storm, And ri••g your troops in uniform! To m••••t such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will ye 〈◊〉〈◊〉, With 〈…〉〈…〉; Who wield their 〈…〉〈…〉, With 〈…〉〈…〉!

〈◊〉〈◊〉, where 〈…〉〈…〉 brings Destruction on 〈…〉〈…〉,

While thro' the deeps her potent thunder Shall sound th' alarm to rob and plunder! As Phoebus first, so Homer speaks, When he march'd out t' attack the Greeks, Gainst 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sent forth his arrows fatal, And slow th' auxiliaries, their cattle; So where our ships shall stretch the keel, What conquer'd oxen shall they steal! What heroes rising from the deep Invade your marshall'd hosts of sheep! Disperse whole troops of horse, and pressing Make cows surrender at discretion; Attack your hens, like Alexanders, And reg'ments rout of geese and ganders; Or where united arms combine Lead captive many a herd of swine! Then rush in dreadful fury down To fire on ev'ry seaport town; Display their glory and their wits, Fright unar••••'d children into sits, And stoutly from th' unequal fray, Make many a woman run away! And can ye doubt whene'er we please Our chiefs shall boast such deeds as these Have we not chiefs transcending far, The old fam'd thunderbolts of war; Beyond the brave romantic fighters, Stiled swords of death by novel-writers? Nor in romancing ages e'er rose So terrible a tier of heroes. From Gage, what flashes fright the waves! How loud a blunderbuss is Graves! How Newport dreads the blustring sallies, That thunder from our popgun, Wallace, While noise in formidable strains Spouts from his thimble-full of brains!

I see you sink with aw'd surprize! I see our Tory-brethren rise! And as the sect'ries Sandemanian, Our friends describe their wish'd Millennium; Tell how the world in ev'ry region At once shall own their true religion; For heav'n with plagues of awful dread Shall knock all heretics o' th' head; And then their church, the meek in spirit, The earth, as promis'd, shall inherit, From the dead wicked, as heirs male, And next remainder-men in tail: Such ruin shall the Whigs oppress! Such spoils our Tory friends shall bless! While Consiscation at command Shall stalk in horror thro' the land, Shall give your Whig-estates away, And call our brethren into play.

And can ye doubt or scruple more, These things are near you at the door? Behold! for tho' to reas'ning blind, Signs of the times ye sure might mind, And view impending sate as plain As ye'd foretell a show'r of rain.

Hath not heav'n warn'd you what must ensue, And Providence declar'd against you; Hung forth its dire portents of war, By* 1.11 signs and beacons in the air; Alarm'd old women all around By fearful noises under ground; While earth for many dozen leagues Groan'd with her dismal load or Whigs?

Was there a meteor far and wide But muster'd on the Tory-side? A star malign that has not bent Its aspects for the Parliament, Foreboding your defeat and misery; As once they sought against old Sisera? Was there a cloud that spread the skies, But bore our armies of allies? While dreadful hosts of fire stood forth 'Mid baleful glimm'rings from the North; Which plainly shows which part they join'd, For North's the minister, ye mind; Whence oft your quibblers in gazettes On Northern blasts have strain'd their wits; And think ye not the clouds know how To make the pun as well as you? Did there arise an apparition, But grinn'd sorth ruin to sedition? A death-watch, but has join'd our leagues, And click'd destruction to the Whigs? Heard ye not, when the wind was fair, At night our or'tors in the air, That, loud as admiralty-libel, Read awful chapters from the bible, And death and deviltry denounc'd, And told you how you'd soon be trounc'd? I see to join our conqu'ring side Heav'n, earth and hell at once allied! See from your overthrow and end The Tories paradise ascend; Like that new world that claims its station Beyond the final conflagration! I see the day that lo••s your share In utter darkness and despair; The day of joy, when North, our Lord, His saithful favorites shall reward!

No Tory then shall set before him Small wish of 'Squire, or Justice Quo••••••: But 'fore his unmistaken eyes See Lordships, posts and pensions ••i••e. A wake to gladness then, ye Tories, Th' unbounce•• prospect lies before us? The pow'r displayed in Gage's banners Shall cut Amer'can lands to manors, And o'er our happy conquer'd ground Dispense estates and titles round. Behold, the world shall stare at new setts Of home-made* 1.12 earls in Massachusetts; Admire, array'd in ducal tassels, Your Ol'vers, Hutchinsons and Vassals; See join'd in minsterial work His grace of Albany and York! What Lordships from each carv'd estate, On our New-York Assembly wait! What titled† 1.13 Jaun••vs, Gales and Bi••••ops; Lord Brush, Lord Wilkins and Lord Philips! In wide-sleev'd pomp of godly guise, What solemn ••ows of bishops rise! Aloft a card'nal's hat is spread O'er punstersect 1.14 Cooper's rev'rend head! In Vardel' hat poetic zealot, I view a lawn-bedizen'd prelate! While mitres fall, as 'tis their duty, On heads of Chandler and Auchmuty! Knights, viscounts, barons shall ye meet As thick as pavements in the street!

Ev'n I perhaps, heav'n speed my claim, Shall fix a Sir before my name. For titles all our foreheads ache; For what blest changes can they make! Place rev'rence, grace and excellence Where neither claim'd the least pretence; Transform by patent's magic words Men, likest devils, into Lords; Whence commoners to peers translated Are justly said to be created! Now where commissioners ye saw Shall boards of nobles deal you law! Long-rob'd comptrollers judge your rights, And tide-waiters start up in knights! While Whigs subdued in slavish awe, Our wood shall hew, our water draw, And bless that mildness, when past hope, Which sav'd their necks from noose of rope, For as to gain assistance we Design their Negroes to set free; For Whigs, when we enough shall bang 'em, Perhaps 'tis better not to hang 'em; Except their chiefs; the vulgar knaves Will do more good preserv'd for slaves."

"'Tis well, Honorius cried, your scheme Has painted out a pretty dream. We can't confute your second sight; We shall be slaves and you a knight: These things must come: but I divine They'll come not in your day, or mine. But oh, my friends, my brethren, hear, And turn for once th' attentive ear. Ye see how prompt to aid our woes, The tender mercies of our foes; Ye see wi••h what unvaried rancour ••till for our blood their minions hanker,

Nor aught can sate their mad ambition, From us, but death, or worse, submission. Shall these then riot in our spoil, Reap the glad harvest of our toil, Rise from their country's ruin proud, And roll their chariot wheels in blood? And can ye sleep while high out spread Hangs desolation o'er your head? See Gage with inauspicious star Has oped the gates of civil war; When streams of gore from freemen slain, E••••rimson'd Concord's fatal plain; Whose warning voice with awful sound, Still cries, like Abel's from the ground, And heav'n, attentive to its call, Shall doom the proud oppressor's ••all.

Rise then, ere ruin 〈◊〉〈◊〉 surprize, To victory, to vengeance rise! Hark, how the distant din alarms! The echoing trumpet breathes, to arms; From provinces remote, afar, The sons of glory rouze to war; 'Tis freedom calls; th' enraptur'd sound The Apalachian hills rebound; The Georgian shores her voice shall hear, And start from lethargies of fear. From the parch'd zone, with glowing ray, Where pours the sun intenser day, To shores where icy waters roll, And tremble to the dusky pole, Inspir'd by freedom's heav'nly charms, United nations wake to arms. The star of conquest lights their way, And guides their vengeance on their prey— Yes, tho' tyrannic sorce oppose, Still shall they triumph o'er their soes,

Fill heav'n the happy land shall bless, Wi••h safety, liberty and peace.

And ye whose souls of dastard mould Start at the brav'ry of the bold; To love your country who pretend, Yet want all spirit to defend; Who feel your fancies so prolific, Engend'ring vision'd whims terrific, O'er-run with horrors of coercion, Fire, blood and thunder in reversion, King's standards, pill'ries, confiscations, And Gage's scarecrow proclamations, With all the trumpery of fear; Hear bullets whizzing in your rear; Who scarce could rouze, if caught in fray, Presence of mind to run away; See nought but halters rise to view In all your dreams (and dreams are true) And while these phantoms haunt your brains, Bow down the willing neck to chains; Heav'ns! are ye sons of sires so great, Immortal in the fields of fate, Who brav'd all deaths by land or sea, Who bled, who conquer'd to be free! Hence, coward souls, the worst disgrace Of our forefathers' valiant race; Hie homeward from the glorious field; There turn the wheel, the distaff wield; Act what ye are, nor dare to stain The warrior's arms with touch profane: There beg your more heroic wives To guard your children and your lives; Beneath their aprons find a screen, Nor dare to mingle more with men."

As thus he said, the Tories' anger Could now restrain itself no longer,

Who tried before by many a freak, or Insulting noise, to stop the speaker; Swung th' unoil'd hinge of each pew-door; Their feet kept shuffling on the floor; Made their disapprobation known By many a murmur, hum and groan, That to his speech supplied the place Of counterpart in thorough-base: As bag-pipes, while the tune they breathe, Still drone and grumble underneath; Or as the sam'd Demosthenes Harangued the rumbling of the seas, H••ld forth with eloquence full grave To audience loud of wind and wave; And had a stiller congregation Than Tories are to hear th' oration. But now the storm grew high and louder As nearer thundrings of a cloud are, And ev'ry soul with heart and voice Supplied his quota of the noise; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••••ning ••ar was set on torture Each ••ory bell' wing out, to order; And some, with tongue not low or weak, Were clam'ring fast, for leave to speak; The moderator, with great vi'••ence, The cushion thump'd with "Silence, silence;" The constable to ev'ry prater Bawl'd out, " Pray hear the moderator;" Some call'd the vote, and some in turn Were screaming high, " adjourn, adjourn:" Not cha••s heard such ••ars and clashes When ••ll the el'ments sought for places. Each bludgeon soon for 〈…〉〈…〉; Each 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stood ready 〈…〉〈…〉; The storm each moment louder grew; His sword the great M'Ti•••••• dr••w,

Prepar'd in either chance to share, To keep the peace, or aid the war. Nor lack'd they each poetic being, Whom bards alone are skill'd in secing; Plumb'd Victory stood perch'd on high, Upon the pulpit-canopy, To join, as is her custom tried, Like Indians, on the strongest side; The Destinies with shears and distaf••, Drew near their threads of life to twist off; The Furies 'gan to feast on blows, And broken heads or bloody nose; When on a sudden from without Arose a loud terrific shout; And strait the people all at once heard Of tongues an universal concert; Like AEsop's times, as sable runs, When ev'ry creature talk'd at once, Or like the variegated gabble That craz'd the carpenters of Babel, Each party soon forgot the quarrel, And let the other go on parole; Eager to know what fearful matter Had conjur'd up such gen'ral clatter; And left the church in thin array, As tho' it had been lecture-day. Our 'Squire M'Fingal straitway beckon••d The constable to stand his second, And sallied forth with aspect fierce The croud assembled to disperse. The moderator out of view Beneath a bench had lain p••rdue; Peep'd up his head to view the ••••ay, Beheld the wranglers run away, And left alone with solemn face, Adjourn'd them without time or place.

END OF CANTO SECOND.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Ministerial Pensioners.
• * 1.2

  Ministerial Pensioners.
• * 1.3

  The stones and all the elements wi••h thee Shall ratify a strict confed'racy; Wild beasts their savage temper shall forget, And for a firm alliance with thee 〈◊〉〈◊〉: &c.

  Blackmore's Paraphrase 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.4

  See Bishop 〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.5

  See Homer's battle of the frogs and mice.
• † 1.6

  See Gage's answer to Governor Trumbull.
• * 1.7

  "Too much praise cannot be given to Lord Percy for his remarkable activity thro' the whole day."

  Gage'•• account of the Lexington battle.
• † 1.8

  " And with a preposterous parade of military arrange|ment they affect to ••old the army besieged."

  Gage's last grand proclamation.
• * 1.9

  He was a representative of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 field, and employed ••o carry their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 town resolves to Boston. He armed himself in as 〈…〉〈…〉 military array, as another Hud••bra••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he was afraid he should be robb'd of them.
• † 1.10

  This was a fact Some British officers, soon after Gage's arrival in Boston, walking on Beacon-H••ll after sunset, were affrighted by noises in the air (supposed to be the fly|ing of bugs and 〈◊〉〈◊〉) which they took to be the sound of bullets, and left the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with great precipitation: Concern|ing which they wrote terrible accounts to England of their being shot at with 〈◊〉〈◊〉; as appears by one or two 〈◊〉〈◊〉, extracts, from which were published in the English 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.11

  Such stories of prodigies were at that time industriously propagated by the Tory-patty in various parts of New-Eng|land, to terrify and intimidate the superstitious.
• * 1.12

  See Hutchinson's and Oliver's letters.
• † 1.13

  Members of the ministerial Majority in the New-York assembly; Wilkins a noted writer.
• sect 1.14

  President Cooper is a notorious punster: Vardell, au|thor of some poetical satires on the sons of liberty in New-York, and royal professor in King's college; Chandler and Auch••••••y, High-church and Tory-writers of the Cleri••al order.