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Nobles and beauties and such common

toasts, Those who admire may drink, sir; Fill up the glass to the volunteer hosts, 10 Who never from danger will shrink, sir.

Let mirth appear,

Every heart cheer, The toast that I give is the brave vol

unteer.

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A PASQUINADE

JOSEPH STANSBURY "Has the Marquis La Fayette

Taken off all our hay yet?” Says Clinton to the wise heads around

him: "Yes, faith, Sir Harry,

Each stack he did carry, And likewise the cattle-confound him!

“Besides, he now goes,

Just under your nose,
To burn all the houses to cinder."

"If that be his project,

It is not an object Worth a great man's attempting to hinder.

"For forage and house

I care not a louse;
For revenge, let the Loyalists bellow;

I swear I'll not do more

To keep them in humor, Than play on my violincello.

"Since Charleston is taken,

'Twill sure save my bacon,I can live a whole year on that same, sir;

Ride about all the day,

At night, concert or play; So a fig for the men that dare blame, sir;

"If growlers complain,

I inactive remain-
Will do nothing, nor let any others!

'Tis sure no new thing

To serve thus our king-
Witness Burgoyne, and two famous

Brothers !
Posted in New York, Aug. 25, 1780.

Here's to the lawyer who, leaving the bar,

Hastens where honor doth lead, sir, Changing the gown for the ensigns of war, The cause of his country to plead, sir.

Freedom appears,

Every heart cheers, And calls for the health of the law vol

unteers.

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Here's to the soldier, though batter'd in

wars, And safe to his farm-house retir'd; 30 When called by his country, ne'er thinks

of his scars, With ardor to join us inspir'd.

Bright fame appears,

Trophies uprear, To veteran chiefs who become volunteers.

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VOLUNTEER BOYS 1

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Hence with the lover who sighs o'er his

wine, Chloës and Phillises toasting. Hence with the slave who will whimper

and whine Of ardor and constancy boasting.

Hence with love's joys,

Follies and noise, The toast that I give is the Volunteer

Boys. 1 This is attributed to Henry Archer, a young and wealthy, Englishman who came to America in 1778 and volunteered in the Revolutionary army. The sixth and seventh stanzas must have been written before his change of allegiance; but the song as a whole, whenever composed, was popular with the Colonials.

Here's to the peer first in senate and field

Whose actions to titles add grace, sir ; Whose spirit undaunted would never yet

yield To a foe, to a pension or place, sir.

Gratitude here,

Toasts to the peer, Who adds to his titles, “the brave volun

teer."

Thus the bold bands for old Jersey's defence,

50 The muse hath with rapture review'd

sir; With our volunteer boys, as our verses

commence, With our volunteer boys they conclude, sir.

Discord or noise

Ne'er damp our joys, But health and success to the volunteer

boys.

He bounded like Congo, and bade you de

fiance, And plac'd on his running his greatest

reliance; But fate overtook him and brought him

before ye, To shew how rebellion will wind up her

story.

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SONG, FOR A VENISON DINNER

JOSEPH STANSBURY Friends, push round the bottle, and let us

be drinking, While Washington up in his mountains is

slinking : Good faith, if he's wise he'll not leave

them behind him, For he knows he's safe nowhere where

Britons can find him. When he and Fayette talk of taking this

city, Their vaunting moves only our mirth and

our pity. But, though near our lines they're too

cautious to tarry, What courage they shew when a hen

roost they harry! Who can wonder that poultry and oxen

and swine Seek shelter in York from such valor

divine,While Washington's jaws and the French

man's are aching The spoil they have lost, to be boiling and

baking.

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Cornwallis led a country dance,

The like was never seen, sir, Much retrogade and much advance,

And all with General Greene, sir. They rambled up and rambled down,

Joined hands, then off they run, sir, Our General Greene to Charlestown,

The earl to Wilmington, sir. Greene in the South, then danced a set,

And got a mighty name, sir, Cornwallis jigged with young Fayette,

But suffered in his fame, sir.
Then down he figured to the shore,

Most like a lordly dancer.
And on his courtly honor swore

He would no more advance, sir. Quoth he, my guards are weary grown

With footing country dances, They never at St. James's shone,

At capers, kicks or prances. Though men so gallant ne'er were seen,

While sauntering on parade, sir, Or wriggling o'er the park's smooth

green, Or at a masquerade, sir. Yet are red heels and long-laced skirts,

For stumps and briars meet, sir? Or stand they chance with hunting-shirts,

Or hardy veteran feet, sir?

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Now housed in York he challenged all,

At minuet or all 'amande, And lessons for a courtly ball

His guards by day and night conned.

Thought he would soon her conqu'ror be;

And so was North's opinion.
From State to State with rapid stride,

His troops had march'd before, sir,
Till quite elate with martial pride,

He thought all dangers o'er, sir.

This challenge known, full soon there

came, A set who had the bon ton, De Grasse and Rochambeau, whose fame

Fut brillant pour un long tems.

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And Washington, Columbia's son,

Whom easy nature taught, sir, That grace which can't by pains be won,

Or Plutus's gold be bought, sir. Now hand in hand they circle round

This ever-dancing peer, sir ; Their gentle movements soon confound

The earl as they draw near, si:. His music soon forgets to play

His feet can no more move, sir, And all his bands now curse the day

They jiggèd to our shore, sir. Now Tories all, what can ye say?

Come-is not this a griper, That while your hopes are danced away, 'Tis you must pay the piper ?

1781.

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Be peace, the glorious end of war,

By this event effected;
And be the name of Washington,

To latest times respected;
Then let us toast America,

And Franc in nion with her; And may Great Britain rue the day Her hostile bands came hither.

1781.

CORNWALLIS BURGOYNED Adapted to the air, Maggie Lauder When British troops first landed here,

With Howe commander o'er them They thought they'd make us quake for

fear, And carry all before them: With thirty thousand men or more,

And she without assistance America must needs give o'er,

And make no more resistance.

LET US BE HAPPY AS LONG AS

WE CAN

Joseph STANSBURY I've heard in old times that a sage used

to say, The seasons were nothing, December, or

May; The heat, or the cold never enter'd his

planThat all should be happy whenever they

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can.

But Washington, her glorious son,

Of British hosts the terror, Soon, by repeated overthrows,

Convinc'd them of their error: Let Princeton and let Trenton tell.

What gallant deeds he's done, sir, And Monmouth's plains where hundreds

fell And thousands more have run, sir.

No matter what power directed the state, He looked upon such things as ordered

by fate: Whether governed by many, or ruld by

one man, His rule was-be happy whenever you

Cornwallis, too, when he approach'd

Virginia's old dominion

can.

He happen'd to enter this world the same

day With the supple, complying, fam'd Vicar

of Bray: Thro' both of their lives the same. prin

ciple ranMy boys, we'll be happy as long as we

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can.

Since no man can tell what to-morrow

may bring, Or which side shall triumph, the Congress

or King, Since fate must o'errule us and carry her

planWhy, let us be happy as long as we can. 20 To-night, let's enjoy this good wine and

a song, And relish the hour which we cannot

prolong: If evil will come, we'll adhere to our

planAnd baffle misfortune as long as we can.

1782-3.

Time-serving I hate, yet I see no good

reason A leaf from their book should be thought

out of season : When kick'd like a football from Sheba

to DanEgad, let's be happy as long as we can.

PHILIP FRENEAU

(1752-1832)

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(The text and author's notes are taken from Now she views Arcadian rocks, early editions and collated with the invaluable "Poems of Philip Freneau," ed. by F. L. Pattee,

Where the shepherds guard their flocks, 3 vols. 1902.)

And, while yet her wings she spreads, THE POWER OF FANCY

Sees chrystal streams and coral beds,

Wanders to some desert deep, Wakeful, vagrant, restless thing,

Or some dark, enchanted steep,
Ever wandering on the wing,

By the full moonlight doth shew
Who thy wondrous source can find, Forests of a dusky blue,
Fancy, regent of the mind;

Where, upon some mossy bed,
A spark from Jove's resplendent throne, Innocence reclines her head.
But thy nature all unknown.

Swift, she stretches o'er the seas
This spark of bright, celestial flame, To the far off Hebrides,
From Jove's seraphic altar came,

Canvas on the lofty mast
And hence alone in man we trace,

Could not travel half so fast

60 Resemblance to the immortal race.

Swifter than the eagle's Aight
Ah! what is all this mighty whole. Or instantaneous rays of light!
These suns and stars that round us roll! Lo! contemplative she stands
What are they all, where'er they shine, On Norwegia's rocky lands-
But Fancies of the Power Divine !

Fickle Goddess, set me down
What is this globe, these lands, and seas, Where the rugged winters frown
And heat, and cold, and flowers, and trees, Upon Orca's howling steep,
And life, and death, and beast, and man, Nodding o'er the northern deep,
And time—that with the sun began-

Where the winds tumultuous roar,
But thoughts on reason's scale combin'd, Vext that Ossian sings no more.
Ideas of the Almighty mind!

Fancy, to that land repair, On the surface of the brain

Sweetest Ossian slumbers there; Night after night she walks unseen, Waft me far to southern isles Noble fabrics doth she raise

Where the soften'd winter smiles, In the woods or on the seas,

To Bermuda's orange shades, On some high, steep, pointed rock,

Or Demarara's lovely glades; Where the billows loudly knock

Bear me o'er the sounding cape, And the dreary tempests sweep

Painting death in every shape, Clouds along the uncivil deep.

Where daring Anson spread the sail Lo! she walks upon the moon,

Shatter'd by the stormy galeListens to the chimy tune

Lo! she leads me wide and far, Of the bright, harmonious spheres,

Sense can never follow herAnd the song of angels hears;

Shape thy course o'er land and sea, Sees this earth a distant star,

Help me to keep pace with thee, Pendant, floating in the air;

Lead me to yon' chalky cliff, Leads me to some lonely dome,

Over rock and over reef, Where Religion loves to come.

Into Britain's fertile land, Where the bride of Jesus dwells,

Stretching far her proud command. And the deep ton'd organ swells

Look back and view, thro' many a year, In notes with lofty anthems join'd, Cæsar, Julius Cæsar, there. Notes that half distract the mind.

Now to Tempe's verdant wood, Now like lightning she descends

Over the mid-ocean flood To the prison of the fiends,

Lo! the islands of the seaHears the rattling of their chains,

Sappho, Lesbos mourns for thee: Feels their never ceasing pains

Greece, arouse thy humbled head, But, I never may she tell

Where are all thy mighty dead, Half the frightfulness of hell.

Who states to endless ruin hurl'd

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