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'Base renegade! 't is false!' replied A crippled veteran at his side, With locks all wintry-white, and waving: 'No rebels these a righteous monarch braving;


The enterprises of Trenton and Princeton shall be regarded as the dawnings of that bright day, which afterward broke forth with such resplendent lustre.'-Hamilton.

The holiest cause that ever prayers
Of good men rose to aid, is theirs :
No! these are honest patriots-steeled
With Justice' sword, and Freedom's

Alas! with other armor scarce, or none:
Sprung from the shop, the woods, the
To die, perchance, but not to yield [field,
Till all their country's wounds are healed,
And all their rights are won!
Long, long have they besought in vain
Their rulers to relax their chain:



Unheard was every prayer:
Thus writhing with the pain, what won-
The frenzied struggles of despair [der




At last should rend the galling links asunder?

My kindred share their country's fate:
Two sons I boast in yonder train,
And had these limbs their nerve again,
I were not here to prate.'

'Whence haste they now, thus spent, forlorn,

Half-armed, half-clad, on winter-morn, With bleeding feet unshod, and torn? And, as their wheeling ranks advance, Why turn they back the anxious glance, As if some danger tracked them near?'

'Alas! their dearest hopes are crossed: Defeated, driven, the city lost, Surrendered every fort and post,

Before them, shame and fear
Behind, with all the royal host,
Cornwallis stops the rear:
Despair, disgrace
In every face;

No glance along their panic lines
With still unshrinking courage shines,
Save his, in whom they trust alone,
The gallant chief that leads them on:

Oh! that he now would turn, and stand!
Stop! leader of the flying band
Freedom, and the wailing land
Beseeching, cling around thy knees:
Oh! shield them from their enemies!
The sacred soil by foes is trod:

Drive back th' invaders to the waves! One freeman on his native sod

Can match a score of slaves:

Stop! better were the deadliest fight
Than such unworthy flight:
All is not lost or if it be,

Still stand!-the dead at least are free: Why shun the strife that must begin? Then ranged by that humble stream, stand


And show the world though crushed at
You have deserved to win: [last,
Stand all! that narrow bridge before,
And e'er one foeman passes o'er,
With your free bodies pave the floor,

That tyranny may see

Her path to power so ghastly dread,
O'er bloody causeway of the dead,
Appalled, she shall not dare to tread,
But leave the free land free!'

They're gone! why should they list to
And fast beyond the hills afar [me?
Sink the last plumes of passing war.
Yet stood there in their leader's eye
A fixed enduring energy --

A beacon steady in the storm's turmoil:
There must be hope, hope e'en in flight,
While such an eye as that keeps bright;
He may retreat, yet scorn to fly,
And thus his forces gathering,
Sudden as bended steel may spring,
With terrible recoil!'


Tramp!- tramp! Tramp!- tramp! 'Hark! again the martial stamp On the hollow bridge resounds, From the steepy shore rebounds, Peopling thick with sounds the air; Mid shouting horns and glittering armor See! in dazzling pomp advancing, [fair! Banners flaunting, horses prancing, Seas of plumes in billows dancing, And far away the frosty bayonets glanHark! harmonious music, sent [cing! From many a breathing instrument, Pouring from their mellow throats Streaming hoards of golden notes: That the ear

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Clattering with irregular beat Tumultuous ring the mingled iron feet: Now in banded order tramp Ranks of foot, with timing stamp, Clad in robes of gory shade, Livery of their dreadful trade; O'er their heads, their breezes braving, St.George's bloody banner-cross is waving: Now o'er the trembling bridge with groaning jar [non-car : Rolls lumbering on the ponderous canBut who are these that last appear, With foreign garb and reckless air, In shaggy caps of savage hair? No British troops so wildly stare: What strangers have we here?

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I hear those horns whose song ascends With voice of angels urge to deeds of


I see the horse with crushing feet
The fractured breasts of brethren beat:
Those glittering tubes already roar:
I hear their fatal bullets whistle:
I see their steely points that bristle
Grow crimson wet with kindred gore:
Come back! ye scarlet legions dread :

Oh! think on what ye do!
'Tis brothers' blood ye seek to shed:
The curse of Cain will brand your head,
And ghosts of all the murdered dead
Your visions will pursue!

Loose not those hireling wolves to howl, On kindred homes and fields to prowl, On kindred flesh to prey!

Be generous in your pride of power!
Have mercy now in triumph's hour,
And further havoc stay!
Alas! they hasten on their way,
Nor heed what prating age may say:

But urge their cruel course,
Untouched with pity or remorse.
Come back! ye bloody fiends of war,
Ye slaves of tyrants bloodier far;
Defeated as your victims are,
Still have they mortal fangs to scar:
Ye shall not crush unstung!
Yes! - one free fragment of a blade

Ere this has deadliest havoc made
Invaders' ranks among;
For Freedom is a tigress, bayed:
'Beware!-touch not her young!'

They're gone beyond the hills afar: Convulsive, faint, no longer shrill, Along Passaic's lonely brink Swell the last clarion-notes of passing war, That heave, and sink Heave and sink, And all again is still!



"Tis night along the Delaware -
'Tis merry Christmas night;
And all the holiday may share,
Save yonder band of patriots there,
Preparing for the fight.
Extended on the opposing coast
Is quartered all the royal host,

Wide-spread in many a post.
'Now!' the patriot captain said,

Clip their wings ere they are spread!'* Rattling hail, and drizzling sleet 'Gainst their freezing faces beat : But storms, as well as armies, fail To make the breast where freedom lodges quail :

Lo! in many a shallow boat Thick-crowded on the stream they float, With horse and cannon laden low, Fast whitening in the driving snow; With darkness, storm, and foes before, While round them, with alarming roar, Fragments of massive ice rush crashing on the shore!


"T is night along the Delaware'Tis merry Christmas night, And all the holiday may share: The Hessian ranks throw off their care, And Trenton rings right merrily With strangest warrior-minstrelsy: 'Glory greet the roving band! 'What though banished far to roam 'Soldiers ever find a home!

"When unwelcome thoughts o'ercome, 'Still with drinking, 'Banish thinking! "Glory greet the exiled band! 'Let the toast be Father-land! 'Till peep of morning light: 'Fill high the can! 'Fill high the can!

"To Glory's prize the soldier's mark: "The toast- the toast be Fatherland! 'Till peep of morning' Hark! Hark to the deadly volley's rattle! Hark to the shout- the crash of battle! To arms! to arms! they rush, they form, The post surprised- the vanguard beat, No hope is left them but retreat! Away! their foes hold every street; 'Tis WASHINGTON that guides the storm, And flight and strife alike are vain : Surrounded, humbled, in despair,

His very words.


A thousand men surrender there,
And Rahl, their chief is slain!
'Tis night along Assànpink stream,
And wide the flaming watch-fires gleam;
While here and there, from either shore,
The bellowing cannon rarely roar,
As if to clear their rugged throats
To chant to-morrow's death-hymn notes;
For, quickened with the late disgrace,
Cornwallis rushed with force apace
From royal 'scutcheon to efface

The foul, corroding stain:
To-morrow shall the shame atone
For that shoal, narrow creek alone
Divides the foes in twain.

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The first report that stuns his ear,
Will bring Cornwallis furious here:
We must at once break through the rear!
We must we can we WILL!'

Then cannon oped the dreadful revel
Then muskets dropped in deadly level,
And Murder, as the signal broke,
Threw o'er the foes his sulphurous cloak,
The better in its folds of smoke

His bloody work to do:

And deeds were done so foul, alas! Himself, all butcher as he was, In face of heaven had shuddered to pursue. But vain the patriot's bold attackThe van is checked 't is beaten back! Oh Freedom's God! must all be lost At once, uncounting risk, or cost, Their daring leader goesA star-lit standard seizes there, And waves it through the sulphurous air, Then spurs between the foes! Thickens the din, the smoke, the flash; The bayonet thrust, the sabre gash; The heated combatants, grown rash, Madly on each other dash;


But God defends the right; To Freedom gives the conqueror's But claims a hero for his prize; For shattered in the front of fight, Devoted MERCER lies!

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A stubborn remnant yet maintain
Their stand within the college fane:
The muses' hallowed halls they stain

With all the wreck of fight.
The victor summons- - and they yield;
Triumphant now he quits the field,
Before the royal vanguard daunts the sight.

Cornwallis comes with thundering speed,
Revenge his raging senses blinds;
Too late! 'tis past the hour of need:

His dead along his track he finds, His living, scattered to the winds! And sheltered mid the hills afar,

The rebels, in his grasp at night, Themselves victorious from the fight,

With all the spoils of war! Astounded at the daring feat,

At once he sounds retreat; And leaves the soil he late profaned, Save by the captured foe, unstained.


Applauding shouts the land rang round:

Of triumph, and of victory! [found, Then hope first pierced the gloom proAnd then the stars, which rose in shame

When the young banner 'gan to fly, First peeped through trouble's cloudy sky And sparkled on the eye! And joy the bright alliance crowned Which Freedom made with Fame, When Trenton grew a battle-cry, And Princeton found a name.

Then broke th' auspicious day! As hope new arms to courage gave Fast rolled successes wave on wave, All brightly gilt with glory's morning ray: The Lion, blinded, in despair, Slunk baffled to his lair: While boldly high

The Eagle, with a scream of joy, Soared sunward with unquailing eye, And flapped his wings for victory! And as the vapors fold by fold Before the light retreating rolled, Lo! Freedom on the lofty stand Of Alleghanian mountains towered, and blazed,


DOST think those gilt and hollow cones That front an organ cause the tones? Not so!-those pealing notes proceed From tubes of baser metal, hid.

Sole sovereign of the land: Long, long from man in mists concealed, Then first with every charm revealed, Her form august she raised; August, yet gracious, and her brows were


With lustrous stars that like a glorycrown'd.
Her front looked on th' Atlantic shore,
One beckoning hand outheld before,
Waved welcome to the world!
And one, to point the promised ground
She proffered to her guest,
Turn'd backward to th' unmeasur'd west,
Whose desert wealth of soil spread

widely round;

Still spreading, spreading, 'till the roar Of sounding seas at length proclaimed its bound,

Where, heaving without rest, Pacific's solemn billows curled, And broke unheard along the lonely shore!

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This same remark, we might advance,
Holds good in life's mysterious dance.
In front the pompous pretext find,
But the mean motive skulks behind.



FROM the time of the chimerical cruisings of Old Ponce de Leon in search of the Fountain of Youth; the avaricious expedition of Pamphilo de Narvaez in quest of gold; and the chivalrous enterprise of Hernando de Soto, to discover and conquer a second Mexico, the natives of Florida have been continually subjected to the invasions and encroachments of white men. They have resisted them perseveringly but fruitlessly, and are now battling amidst swamps and morasses, for the last foothold of their native soil, with all the ferocity of despair. Can we wonder at the bitterness of a hostility that has been handed down from father to son, for upward of three centuries, and exasperated by the wrongs and miseries of each succeeding generation! The very name of the savages with which we are fighting, betokens their fallen and homeless condition. Formed of the wrecks of once powerful tribes, and driven from their ancient seats of prosperity and dominion, they are known by the name of the Seminoles, or 'Wanderers.'

Bartram, who travelled through Florida in the latter part of the last century, speaks of passing through a great extent of ancient Indian fields, now silent and deserted, overgrown with forests, orange groves, and rank vegetation, the site of the ancient Alachua, the capital of a famous and powerful tribe, who in days of old could assemble thousands at bull-play and other athletic exercises 'over these then happy fields and green plains.' 'Almost every step we take,' adds he,' over these fertile heights, discovers the remains and traces of ancient human habitations and cultivation.'

About the year 1763, when Florida was ceded by the Spaniards to the English, we are told that the Indians generally retired from the towns and the neighborhood of the whites, and burying themselves in the deep forests, intricate swamps and hommocks, and vast savannahs of the interior, devoted themselves to a pastoral life, and the rearing of horses and cattle. These are the people that received the name of the Seminoles, or Wanderers, which they still retain.

Bartram gives a pleasing picture of them at the time he visited them in their wilderness; where their distance from the abodes of the white man gave them a transient quiet and security. • This handful of people,' says he, 'possesses a vast territory, all East and the greatest part of West Florida, which being naturally cut and divided into thousands of islets, knolls, and eminences, by the innumerable rivers, lakes, swamps, vast savannahs, and ponds, form so many secure retreats and temporary dwelling places that effectually guard them from any sudden invasions or attacks from their enemies; and being such a swampy, hommocky country, furnishes such a plenty and variety of supplies for the nourishment of varieties of animals, that I can venture to assert, that no part of the globe so abounds with wild game, or creatures fit for the food of man.

'Thus they enjoy a superabundance of the necessaries and conve

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