The harbour was block'd up

No ship could sail;

Our fishery was stopt,

A doleful tale!
Of tyrants' cruelty;
Their banners lifted high,
Made sons of freedom cry

Unto their God.

The Congress that we chose
Bid us unite,

And to withstand our foes,
For freedom fight;
They bid us ready stand,
Fight for our fathers' land,
Though we a feeble band,
Bid us not fear.

With great reluctancy
We ready stood,
And with our spirits high,
Trusting in God;
Our prayers did ascend,

That he would be our friend,
That he would us defend

In troubles great.

But oh! when cruel Gage

Did see that we

Would not bow to his rage

And tyranny;
Did fortify most strong,

His guards were stretch'd along
A base and brutish throng,

Of British troops.

Gage was both base and mean,
He dare not fight;

The men he sent were seen
Like owls in night.

It was in Lexington,

Where patriots' blood did run
Before the rising sun

In crimson gore.

Here sons of freedom fell

Rather than flee,

Unto those brutes of hell

They fell a prey;

But they shall live again,

Their names shall rise and reign Among the noble slain

In all our land.

But oh! this cruel foe
Went on in haste,
To Concord they did go,
And there did waste
Some stores in their rage,
To gratify old Gage,
His name in every page

Shall be defam'd.

Their practice thus so base
And murder too,
Rous'd up the patriot race,
Who did pursue,
And put this foe to flight,
They could not bear the light,
Some rue'd the very night
They left their den.

And now this cruelty

Was spread abroad,

The sons of liberty
This act abhorr'd;
Their noble blood did boil,
Forgetting all the toil,

In troubles they could smile,
And went in haste.

Our army willingly
Did then engage
To stop the cruelty

Of tyrants' rage.
They did not fear our foe,
But ready were to go,
And let the tyrants know
Whose sons they were.

But when old Gage did see
All us withstand,
And strive for liberty

Through all our land,
He strove with all his might,
For rage was his delight,
With fire he did fight,
A monster he.

On Charlestown he display'd
His fire abroad;
He it in ashes laid,

An act abhorr'd
By sons of liberty—
Who saw the flames on high
Piercing their native sky,
And now lies waste.

To Bunker-hill they came
Most rapidly,

And many there were slain,
And there did die.

They call'd it bloody hill,
Although they gain'd their will
In triumph they were still,
'Cause of their slain.
Here sons of freedom fought
Right manfully;

A wonder here was wrought,
Though some did die.
Here WARREN bow'd to death
His last expiring breath,
In language mild he saith-
Fight on, brave boys.
Oh! this did stain the pride
Of British troops;
They saw they were deny'd
Of their vain hopes
Of marching thro' our land,
When twice a feeble band
Did fight, and boldly stand
In our defence.

Brave WASHINGTON did come
To our relief;

He left his native home,

Filled with grief;

He did not covet gain,
The cause he would maintain
And die among the slain
Rather than flee.

His bosom glow'd with love
For liberty;

His passions much did move

To orphans' cry.

He let proud tyrants know,
How far their bounds should go,
And then his bombs did throw

Into their den.

This frighted them full sore
When bombs were sent,
When cannon loud did roar
They left each tent;

Oh! thus did the tyrants fly,
Went precipitately,
Their shipping being nigh,
They sailed off.

Their fleets have cross'd the main
And do pursue.

They've come in mighty haste
To lay our country waste,

The Southern States must taste
Of tyrants' rage.

Britons and Hessian troops,

A brutish throng,
To prosecute their hopes
They've sail'd along;
The Tories ask'd them o'er,
To come and try once more,
Some landed on the shore

Near Charleston bar.
Brave Charleston was prepar'd
For this brave foe;
A fortress they had rear'd
To let them know

That freedom's cause was good,
They would resist for blood,
And manfully withstood,

And drubb'd them well.
Oh! here Parker was beat
Right manfully;

And with his scatter'd fleet
With wounded's cry.
His ammunition fail'd,
He took the first fair gale,
With scarce a mast or sail
To join old Howe.

Howe's fleet cover'd the sea
Near New York shore
And very subtle he

To try once more;
Here Tories join'd our foe,
As base as hell below,
Who did our shores know,
Help'd them to land.
But oh! the bloody scene
I now will write;

Long Island I do mean,
Where was the fight,

Where our brave men did die,
Fighting for liberty,

No succor could come nigh
For their relief.

Here valiant men did bleed,
And fell a prey;
Here tyrants did succeed
And win the day;
It was by Tories' art,
Who took the tyrants' part
We yet do feel the smart

Of that base crew.
Brave WASHINGTON did say,
Alas! good God,
Brave men I've lost to-day,
They're in their blood.
His grief he did express
To see them in distress,
His tears and hands witness
He lov'd his men.

And then he thought best

To leave that place,

Than there to stand the test
With men so base.
He was wise and discreet,
He bid his men retreat,

Go farther from the fleet,
So left New York.

Du Simitière's volume of poetical selections in MS., to which we have frequently expressed our obligations, furnishes us with some lively verses for the outset of 1776, which are there entitled

Parody by John Tabor Kemp, Attorney-General of New York, to welcome Cortland Skinner, Attorney-General of New Jersey, on board of the Asia Man-of-War, at New York, Feb., 1776.

I.

Welcome, welcome, brother Tory,
To this merry floating place;
I came here a while before you;
Coming here is no disgrace.
Freedom finds a safe retreat here,
On the bosom of the waves;
You she now invites to meet her.
Welcome, then, thou Tory brave.

II.

As you serve, like us, the King, sir,
In a hammock you must lay;
Better far 'tis so to swing, sir,

Than to swing another way.
Tho' we've not dry land to walk on,
The quarter deck is smooth to tread :
Hear how fast, while we are talking,
Barrow trips it over head.

III.

Should vile Whigs come here to plunder,
Quick we send them whence they came;
They'd soon hear the Asia thunder,

And the Phoenix in a flame.
Neptune's gallant sons befriend us,
While at anchor here we ride;
Britain's wooden walls defend us,
Britain's glory and her pride.

In 1776, appeared The Fall of British Tyranny: or American Liberty Triumphant,-The First Campaign; a Tragi-Comedy of five acts, as lately planned at the Royal Theatrum Pandemonium, at St. James'. Phila. 8vo. pp. 66. It is one of several dramatic satires, like the Group of Mrs. Warren, which appeared during the war. We present a portion of

THE DEDICATION.

To Lord Boston, and the Remnant of the Actors, Merry-Andrews, and Strolling Players in Boston, Lord Kidnapper, and the rest of the Pirates and Buccaneers, and the innumerable and never-ending Clan of Macs and Donalds upon Donalds, in America:

My Lords and Gentlemen,

Understanding you are vastly fond of plays and farces, and frequently exhibit them for your own amusement, and the laudable purpose of ridiculing your masters (the Yankees, as you call 'em), it was expected you would have been polite enough to have favoured the world, or America at least (at

The deputy paymaster general of the King's army, that has also fled on board of the Asia, and continually walks the quarter-deck.

whose expence you act them) with some of your play-bills, or with a sample of your composition.

This is signed "DICK RIFLE," and is followed by a prose preface, and this by

THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY.

Hail! patriots, hail! by me inspired be!
Speak boldly, think and act for Liberty,
United sons, America's choice band,
Ye patriots firm, ye sav'ours of the land.
Hail! patriots, hail! rise with the rising sun,
Nor quit your labour, till the work be done.
Ye early risers in your country's cause,
Shine forth at noon, for Liberty and Laws,
Build a strong tow'r, whose fabric may endure
Firm as a rock from tyranny secure.
Yet would you build my fabric to endure,

Be your hearts warm-but let your hands be pure,
Never to shine yourselves, your country sell;
But think you nobly, while in place act well.
Let no self-server general trust betray,
No pique, no party, bar the public way.
Front an arm'd world, with union on your side:
No foe shall shake you,-if no friends divide.
At night repose, and sweetly take your rest;
None sleeps so sound as those by conscience blest :
May martyr'd patriots whisper in your ear,
To tread the paths of virtue without fear;
May pleasing visions charm your patriot eyes,
While Freedom's sons shall hail you blest and wise.
Hail! my last hope, she cries, inspir'd by me,
Wish, write, talk, fight, and die-for LIBERTY!

The characters of the play consist of the leading statesmen of England, who are introduced under descriptive names, Bute being Lord Paramount, Mansfield Lord Mocklaw, &c.; Gage figures as Lord Boston, and Washington, Lee, and Putnam appear in propria persona. The scene is laid in England, and at Lexington and Bunker's Hill. The dialogue is in prose and somewhat stiff. The following song is sung by one of two shepherds, near Lexington, who have a discussion of public affairs "after the defeat and flight of the Regulars." Roger says, "This is the First of May; our shepherds and nymphs are celebrating our glorious St. Tammany's day; we'll hear the song out, and then join in the frolic, and chorus it o'er and o'er again. This day shall be devoted to joy and festivity."

SONG.

Tune.- The Ilounds are all out."

I.

Of St. George, or St. Bute, let the poet laureat sing, Of Pharaoh or Pluto of old,

While he rhimes forth their praise, in false flattering lays,

I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys.

II.

Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast,
And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad;
Potatoes and oats, and Welch leeks for Welch goats,
Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys.

III.

In freedom's bright cause, Tamm'ny pled with applause,

And reason'd most justly from nature;
For this was his song, all, all the day long:
Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys.

IV.

Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat,
His throne was the crotch of the tree;
With Solomon's look, without statutes or book,
He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys.

V.

His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound, Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face;

So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause, That might Bute, North, and Mansfield disgrace, my brave boys.

VI.

No duties, nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps, A king, though no tyrant was he;

He did ofttimes declare, nay sometimes would swear The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys.

VII.

He, as king of the woods, of the rivers and floods, Had a right all beasts to control;

Yet, content with a few, to give nature her due; So gen'rous was Tammany's soul, my brave boys.

VIII.

In the morn he arose, and a hunting he goes,
Bold Nimrod his second was he.

For his breakfast he'd take a large venison steak,
And despis'd your slip-slops and tea, my brave boys

IX.

While all in a row, with squaw, dog and bow,
Vermillion adorning his face,

With feathery head he rang'd the woods wide:
St. George sure had never such grace, my brave
boys.

X.

His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear,
Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd,
Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down space,
Like the oil from Aaron's old beard, my brave boys.

ΧΙ.

The strong nervous deer, with amazing career,
In swiftness he'd fairly run down;
And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear,
Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys.

XIL

When he'd run down a stag, he behind him would lag,

For, so noble a soul had he;

He'd stop, tho' he lost it, tralition reports it, To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys.

XIII.

With a mighty strong arm, and a masculine bow,
His arrow he drew to the head,

And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot,
His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys

XIV.

His table he spread where the venison bled,
Be thankful, he used to say;

He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king,
And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys.

XV.

Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills,
He'd caper, such was his delight;

And ne'er in his days, Indian history says,
Did lack a good supper at night, my brave boys.

XVI.

On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat, When supper was ready to eat,

Snap, his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye; For ven'son, the king of all meat, my brave boys.

XVIL

Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould,
Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage,
He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarch eat,
Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, brave boys.

XIX.

As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb,
Tho' his sport, 'twere hard to keep from it,
Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife,

And blaz'd like the tail of a comet, brave boys.

XX.

What country on earth, then, did ever give birth, To such a magnanimous saint?

His acts far excel all that history tell,

And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys.

ΧΧΙ.

Now, to finish my song, a full flowing bowl
I'll quaff, and sing all the long day,

And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint,

And hail ev'ry first of sweet May, my brave boys.

We have next to present a poem, which, though dated from a distant city, has the true home spirit of the time.

To the tune of "Smile Britannia."
Rise, rise, bright genius rise,
Conduct thy sons to war;

Thy spear pois'd to the skies,

Whirl, whirl thy rapid car;

Fire each firm breast with noble zeal,
To conquer for the common weal.
For years the iron rod

Has hover'd o'er our heads,
Submit to George's nod,

Whose power all Europe dreads;
The slavish minion cries,

But Freedom's sons all fears despise.
All means for peace we've tried,
But found those measures vain;
North's ministerial pride

Thought fear made us complain.
But in the end, convinc'd he'll see,
We dread not death, but slavery.
Tho' fatal lust of pow'r

Has steel'd the tyrant's soul;
Though in an ill-tim'd hour

He bids his thunders roll,
Great LIBERTY, inspired by thee,
We fly to death or victory.
Great Nature's law inspires,

And free-born souls unite,
While common interest fires

Us to defend our right
Against corruption's boundless claim,
And firmly fix great Freedom's reig
They foreign troops employ,

For mercenary hire;
Their weakness we enjoy,

Each pulse new ardors fire,
Convinc'd the wretch who fights for pay,
Will never bear the palm away.

They boast their power by sea,
The ruin of our trade;

Our navy soon they'll see,

Wide o'er the ocean spread;

Come all you brave soldiers, both valiant and free,
It's for Independence we all now agree,
Let us gird on our swords, and prepare to defend
Our liberty, property, ourselves and our friends.
In a cause that's so righteous, come let us agree,
And from hostile invaders set America free;
The cause is so glorious we need not to fear

But from merciless tyrants we'll set ourselves clear. Heaven's blessing attending us, no tyrant shall say That Americans e'er to such monsters gave way; But, fighting, we'll die in America's cause,

Before we'll submit to tyrannical laws.

George the Third, of Great Britain, no more shall he reign,

With unlimited sway o'er these free states again; Lord North, nor old Bute, nor none of their clan, Shall ever be honor'd by an American.

May heaven's blessing descend on our United States,
And grant that the union may never abate;
May love, peace and harmony ever be found
For to go hand in hand America round.
Upon our grand Congress, may heaven bestow
Both wisdom and skill our good to pursue;
On heaven alone dependent we'll be,

But from all earthly tyrants we mean to be free.

Unto our brave generals may heaven give skill,
Our armies to guide and the sword for to wield;
May their hands taught to war and their fingers to
fight,

Be able to put British armies to flight.

And now, brave Americans, since it is so,

That we are independent we'll have them to know,

That united we are, and united we'll be,

And from all British tyrants we'll try to keep free.

May heaven smile on us in all our endeavours,
Safe guard our sea-ports, our towns and our
rivers;

Keep us from invaders, by land and by sea,
And from all who'd deprive us of our liberty.
Freeman's Journal, or New Hampshire Gazette,
August 17, 1776.

A continuation of Hudibras, in Two Cantos, written in the time of the Unhappy Contest between Great Britain and America, in 1777 and 1778, published in London in the latter year, contains a parody, with comments, on the Declaration of Independence, and may with propriety be inserted here. We are without clue to the name or place of nativity of the author, but it is probably an American production.

When in the course of human things,
All subjects may desert their kings,
And thus becoming disaffected,

Break bonds by which they were connected;
Assuming 'mongst the powers on earth

An equal rank, to which their birth,
The laws of heav'n and of nature,
Intitle every human creature,
Respect when men are thus inclin'd,
For the opinions of mankind,
Requires they should the causes tell,
That have induc'd them to rebel.

First, let this downright maxim strike,
That all men are born free alike,
And are undoubtedly allow'd,
By Providence to be endow'd
(As many a learned author writes)
With some unalienable rights;

'Mong these we lay the greatest stress,
On life, pursuit of happiness,
And (what is best of all the three)
Of uncontrouled liberty.
For surely no one can believe,
But he's a certain right to live,
Without receiving check or stop here,
As long as ever he think proper:
Neither is life like chair or table,
To one another alienable,
Neither can any mortal have,
The right to make himself a slave
(Although by thieving we must say
Some people do it ev'ry day):
Neither can any one entrap ye,
From the just right of being happy
(Tho' your chief happiness in life,
Should be to kiss your neighbour's wife).
To keep these rights by their consents,
Men instituted governments;

And should they afterwards be tir'd,
Of systems that the world admir'd,
The people have a right t' abolish,
Alter, relinquish, and demolish,
By methods novel and surprising,
New states and powers organizing,
In such a form and figure drest,
As the wise authors shall think best.
Prudence indeed might plainly dictate,
(To any but a dull and thick pate)
That governments establish'd ancient,
Should not be chang'd for causes transient,-
And therefore all experience shews,
That men would rather something lose,
Than to be rash,-because they're strong,
And right themselves by doing wrong.—
But when we had refused assent,
To British acts of parliament,
(Tho' bulwarks of the constitution)
And stuck to this our resolution
When we determined to be free,
And seiz'd on other people's tea,
Tarring and feathering ev'ry fool,
That spoke in favour of good rule;
Broke up the courts of law and justice,
(For in ourselves-our hope and trust is)
Forcing from every one-concession,
To things of which we made profession,
And setting those we could not guide,
To ride upon a stick-astride,
Because we plainly saw designs,
To catch us in despotic mines;
When after this-the plans absurd,
Of that harsh tyrant George the Third,
Under a notion of expedience,
To bring us to a due obedience,
Pursued thro' regular gradation,

Of great abuse and usurpation,
Prove an invariable design,
Our liberties to undermine,
A resolution to betray,

And rule us by despotic sway;

It is our right and our intent,
To throw off such a government,
Whilst other methods may be tried,
For future safety to provide.

During the winter which followed the battle of Trenton occurred. We have a ballad in its honor.

BATTLE OF TRENTON.

On Christmas day in '76,

Our ragged troops with bayonets fix'd,
For Trenton marched away.

The Delaware see, the boats below,
The light obscured by hail and snow,
But no symptoms of dismay.

Our object was the Hessian band,
That dared to invade fair freedom's land,
And quarter in that place.

Great Washington he led us on,
With ensigns streaming with renown,
Which ne'er had known disgrace.
In silent march we pass'd the night,
Each soldier panting for the fight,
Though quite benumb'd with frost.
Greene on the left, at six began,
The right was with brave Sullivan,
Who in battle no time lost.

Their pickets storm'd, the alarm was spread,
That rebels risen from the dead

Were marching into town.

Some scamper'd here, some scamper'd there, And some for action did prepare, But soon their arms laid down. Twelve hundred servile miscreants, With all their colours, guns, and tents, Were trophies of the day:

The frolic o'er, the bright canteen,
In centre, front, and rear was seen
Driving fatigue away.

Now, brothers of the patriot bands,
Let's sing our safe deliverance
From arbitrary sway.

And as life you know is but a span,
Let's touch the tankard while we can,
In memory of the day.*

One of the patriotic productions of the same year was a poem, in a pamphlet of fifteen pages, commenting in a severe but not equally forcible style on the conduct of Lord North. We quote the title-page, confident that the reader will not "ask for more."

The Continental Key of the Liberties of America; in three parts.

Perhaps the critics of the age,
May find a fault in ev'ry page,
Or yet, perhaps, in ev'ry line,

Well, they have their faults, I have mine.

If any man should ask the price,
One or two shillings take your choice,
Sometimes true Whigs have given twenty,
But Tories think that five is plenty.

New York, printed for Elijah Weige, 1776.

* McCarty's Songs, i. 24.