The soldier flew, the sailor too,
And scar'd almost to death, sir,
Wore out their shoes, to spread the news,
And ran till out of breath, sir.

Now up and down throughout the town,
Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here, and others there,
Like men almost distracted.

Some fire cry'd, which some denied,
But said the earth had quaked;
And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
Ran thro' the streets half naked.

Sir William he, snug as a flee,

Lay all this time a snoring,
Nor dream'd of harm as he lay warm,
In bed with Mrs. Lg.

Now in a fright, he starts upright,
Awak'd by such a clatter;

He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries,
For God's sake, what's the matter?

At his bed-side he then espy'd,
Sir Erskine at command, sir,
Upon one foot, he had one boot,
And th' other in his hand, sir.

"Arise, arise," Sir Erskine cries,
"The rebels-more's the pity,
Without a boat are all afloat,
And rang'd before the city.

"The motly crew, in vessels new,
With Satan for their guide, sir.
Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs,
Come driving down the tide, sir.
"Therefore prepare for bloody war,
These kegs must all be routed,
Or surely we despised shall be,
And British courage doubted."

The royal band, now ready stand
All rang'd in dread array, sir,
With stomach stout to see it out,
And make a bloody day, sir.

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40

The cannons roar from shore to shore,
The small arms make a rattle;
Since wars began I'm sure no man
E'er saw so strange a battle.

The rebel dales, the rebel vales,

With rebel trees surrounded; The distant wood, the hills and floods, With rebel echoes sounded.

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60

The fish below swam to and fro, Attack'd from ev'ry quarter;

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Why sure, thought they, the devil's to pay, 'Mongst folks above the water.

The kegs, 'tis said, tho' strongly made,
Of rebel staves and hoops, sir,
Could not oppose their powerful foes,
The conqu'ring British troops, sir.

From morn to night these men of might
Display'd amazing courage;

And when the sun was fairly down,
Retir'd to sup their porrage.

An hundred men with each a pen,
Or more upon my word, sir.

It is most true would be too few,
Their valor to record, sir.

Such feats did they perform that day,
Against these wick'd kegs, sir,

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That years to come, if they get home, They'll make their boasts and brags, sir.

Pennsylvania Packet, Mar. 4, 1778. This ballad was occasioned by a real incident. Certain machines, in the form of kegs, charg'd with gun powder, were sent down the river to annoy the British shipping then at Philadelphia. The danger of these machines being discovered, the British manned the wharfs and shipping, and discharged their small arms and cannons at everything they saw floating in the river during the ebb tide. (Note in 1792 edition.)

THE BIRDS, THE BEASTS, AND THE BAT
A fable

A War broke out in former days,
If all is true that sop says,
Between the birds that haunt the grove,
And beasts that wild in forests rove:
Of fowl that swim in waters clear,
Of birds that mount aloft in air;
From ev'ry tribe vast numbers came,
To fight for freedom, as for fame:
The beasts from dens and caverns deep,
From valleys low and mountains steep; 10
In motly ranks determin'd stood,
And dreadful howlings shook the wood.
The bat, half bird, half beast was there,
Nor would for this or that declare;
Waiting till conquest should decide.
Which was the strongest, safest side:
Depending on this doubtful form,

To screen him from th' impending storm.

With sharpen'd beaks and talons long, With horny spurs and pinions strong, 20

The bat still hov'ring to and fro, Observ'd how things were like to go, Concludes those best who best can fight, And thinks the strongest party right; 40 "Push on, quoth he, our's is the day We'll chase these rebel birds away, And reign supreme-for who but we Of earth and air the Lords should be; That I'm a beast I can make out, By reasons strong beyond a doubt, With teeth and fur 'twould be absurd, To call a thing like me a bird: Each son and daughter of my house; Is stil'd at least a flying mouse.'

50

Always uncertain is the fate, Of war and enterprises great: The beasts exulting push'd too far Their late advantage in the war; Sure of success, insult the foe, Despise their strength and careless grow; The birds not vanquish'd, but dismay'd, Collect their force, new pow'rs display'd; Their chief, the eagle, leads them on, And with fierce rage the war's begun. 60 Now in their turn the beasts must yield, The bloody laurels of the field; Routed they fly, disperse, divide, And in their native caverns hide.

Once more the bat with courtly voice, "Hail, noble birds! much I rejoice

In your success, and come to claim
My share of conquest and of fame."
The birds the faithless wretch despise;
Hence, traitor, hence the eagle cries;
No more, as you just vengeance fear,
Amongst our honour'd ranks appear.
The bat, disown'd in some old shed,
Now seeks to hide his exil'd head;
Nor dares his leathern wings display,
From rising morn to setting day:
But when the gloomy shades of night,
Screens his vile form from every sight,
Despis'd, unnotic'd, flits about;
Then to his dreary cell returns,
And his just fate in silence mourns.

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80

Shall a girl's capricious frown
Sink my noble spirits down?
Shall a face of white and red
Make me droop my silly head?
Shall I set me down and sigh
For an eyebrow or an eye?
For a braided lock of hair,
Curse my fortune and dispair?
My generous heart disdains, etc.
3

Still uncertain is tomorrow,
Not quite certain is to-day-
Shall I waste my time in sorrow?
Shall I languish life away?
All because a cruel maid
Hath not love with love repaid?

My generous heart disdains, etc.

(The text and notes are from "The Poetical Works of John Trumbull" in two volumes, 1820.) THE PROGRESS OF DULNESS1 PART III

OR THE ADVENTURES OF

MISS HARRIET SIMPER

"Come hither, HARRIET, pretty Miss,
Come hither; give your aunt a kiss.
What, blushing? fye, hold up your head,
Full six years old and yet afraid!
With such a form, an air, a grace,
You're not ashamed to show your face!
Look like a lady-bold-my child!
Why ma'am, your HARRIET will be spoil'd.
What pity 'tis, a girl so sprightly
Should hang her head so unpolitely?
And sure there's nothing worth a rush in
That odd, unnatural trick of blushing;
It marks one ungenteelly bred,
And shows there's mischief in her head.
I've heard Dick Hairbrain prove from
Paul,

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20

Eve never blush'd before the fall.
'Tis said indeed, in latter days,
It gain'd our grandmothers some praise;
Perhaps it suited well enough
With hoop and farthingale and ruff;
But this politer generation
Holds ruffs and blushes out of fashion.
"And what can mean that gown so odd?
You ought to dress her in the mode,
To teach her how to make a figure;
Or she'll be awkward when she's bigger,
And look as queer as Joan of Nokes,
And never rig like other folks;
Her clothes will trail, all fashion lost,
As if she hung them on a post,
And sit as awkwardly as Eve's
First pea-green petticoat of leaves.

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"And what can mean your simple whim here

To keep her poring on her primer?
'Tis quite enough for giris to know,
If she can read a billet-doux,
Or write a line you'd understand
Without a cypher of the hand.

1 Part I of the Progress of Dulness is entitled "On the Adventures of Tom Brainless"; Part II, "On the Life and Character of Dick Hairbrain." Both of these characters appear in Part III. These appeared, Part I, Aug., 1772; Part II, Jan., 1773; Part III, July, 1773.

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50

Why need she learn to write, or spell?
A pothook scrawl is just as well;
Might rank her with the better sort,
For 'tis the reigning mode at court.
And why should girls be learn'd or wise?
Books only serve to spoil their eyes.
The studious eye but faintly twinkles,
And reading paves the way to wrinkles.
In vain may learning fill the head full;
'Tis beauty that's the one thing needful;
Beauty, our sex's sole pretence,
The best receipt for female sense,
The charm that turns all words to witty,
And makes the silliest speeches pretty.
Ev'n folly borrows killing graces
From ruby lips and roseate faces.
Give airs and beauty to your daughter,
And sense and wit will follow after."
Thus round the infant Miss in state
The council of the ladies meet,
And gay in modern style and fashion
Prescribe their rules of education.
The mother once herself a toast,
Prays for her child the self-same post;
The father hates the toil and pother,
And leaves his daughters to their mother;
From whom her faults, that never vary,
May come by right hereditary,
Follies be multiplied with quickness,
And whims keep up the family likeness.
Ye parents, shall those forms so fair,
The graces might be proud to wear,
The charms those speaking eyes display,
Where passion sits in ev'ry ray,
Th' expressive glance, the air refined,
That sweet vivacity of mind,
Be doom'd for life to folly's sway,
By trifles lur'd, to fops a prey?
Say, can ye think that forms so fine
Were made for nothing but to shine,
With lips of rose and cheeks of cherry.
Outgo the works of statuary,

And gain the prize of show, as victors,
O'er busts and effigies and pictures?
Can female sense no trophies raise,
Are dress and beauty all their praise,
And does no lover hope to find
An angel in his charmer's mind?
First from the dust our sex began,
But woman was refined from man;
Received again, with softer air,
The great Creator's forming care.
And shall it no attention claim
Their beauteous infant souls to frame?

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70

80

90

Shall half your precepts tend the while
Fair nature's lovely work to spoil,
The native innocence de face,

The glowing blush, the modest grace,
On follies fix their young desire,
To trifles bid their souls aspire,

Fill their gay heads with whims of fashion,

100

And slight all other cultivation,
Let every useless, barren weed
Of foolish fancy run to seed,
And make their minds the receptacle
Of every thing that's false and fickle;
Where gay caprice with wanton air,
And vanity keep constant fair,
Where ribbons, laces, patches, puffs,
Caps, jewels, ruffles, tippets, muffs,
With gaudy whims of vain parade,
Croud each apartment of the head;
Where stands, display'd with costly pains,
The toyshop of coquettish brains,
And high-crown'd caps hang out the sign,
And beaux as customers throng in;
Whence sense is banish'd in disgrace,
Where wisdom dares not show her face;
Where the light head and vacant brain
Spoil all ideas they contain,

As th' air-pump kills in half a minute
Each living thing you put within it?
It must be so; by ancient rule
The fair are nursed in folly's school,
And all their education done

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120

130

Is none at all, or worse than none;
Whence still proceed in maid or wife,
The follies and the ills of life.
Learning is call'd our mental diet,
That serves the hungry mind to quiet,
That gives the genius fresh supplies,
Till souls grow up to common size:
But here, despising sense refined,
Gay trifles feed the youthful mind.
Chameleons thus, whose colours airy
As often as coquettes can vary,
Despise all dishes rich and rare,
And diet wholly on the air;
Think fogs blest eating, nothing finer,
And can on whirlwinds make a dinner;
And thronging all to feast together,
Fare daintily in blust'ring weather.

140

Then most the fineries of dress,

Her thoughts, her wish and time possess; She values only to be gay,

And works to rig herself for play; Weaves scores of caps with diff'rent spires,

And all varieties of wires;

Gay ruffles varying just as flow'd
The tides and ebbings of the mode;
Bright flow'rs, and topknots waving high,
That float, like streamers in the sky; 160
Work'd catgut handkerchiefs, whose flaws
Display the neck, as well as gauze;
Or network aprons somewhat thinnish,
That cost but six weeks time to finish,
And yet so neat, as you must own
You could not buy for half a crown.
Perhaps in youth (for country fashion
Prescribed that mode of education,)
She wastes long months in still more
tawdry,

180

A coat of arms, that mark'd her house,
Three owls rampant, the crest a goose;
Or shows in waxwork goodman Adam,
And serpent gay, gallanting madam,
A woful mimickry of Eden,
With fruit, that needs not be forbidden;
All useless works, that fill for beauties
Of time and sense their vast vacuities;
Of sense, which reading might bestow,
And time, whose worth they never know.
Now to some pop'lous city sent,
She comes back prouder than she went;
Few months in vain parade she spares,
Nor learns, but apes, politer airs;
So formal acts, with such a set air,
That country manners far were better.
This springs from want of just discerning,
As pedantry from want of learning;
And proves this maxim true to sight,
The half-genteel are least polite.

Yet still that active spark, the mind
Employment constantly will find,
And when on trifles most 'tis bent,
Is always found most diligent;

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200

For weighty works men show most sloth in, But labour hard at doing nothing,

A trade, that needs no deep concern,

Or long apprenticeship to learn,
To which mankind at first apply
As naturally as to cry,