ODE. Written for, and sung at the fifteenth Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1809. GRAND RECITATIVE. BLEAK lowered the morn; the howling snow-drift blew ; Rude piles of devastation smoked around; While houseless Outcasts, shivering o'er the ground, Bade the sad phantoms of their Homes adieu; AIR. Ah! mouldering wrecks! ye flit in fearful trance, When in horror we leaped, with a fugitive glance, From the flames of yon desolate Wall! It weeps o'er this ruinous waste, As it totters and rocks in the air. In vain, sweet pleading Pity calls; Or the cry of shrill Terror appals;— Bending, beetling, crushing o'er the crowded way, And wretches forget all their griefs in dismay. RECITATIVE. But lo! along its crumbling base, With vacancy's ecstatic pace, All-reckless, a heart-broken mourner repair; Grief has reason beguiled, And with melodies wild, Invoking her child, She wanders like Hope, and bewails like Despair. AIR-Andante. My Boy beneath this ruin lies!" Lost William! hear a Mother's sighs! Through blasts that freeze, and paths that burn, Thy tombless dust she comes to urn. Now I thy cherub spirit see! It spreads its doating arms to me! It smiles in air! while piteous grace ALLEGRO FURIOSO. Now to clouds of purple light, Where William sits, I'll steal my flight! Cold is this crazy crust of clay, He beckons to a warmer day! Wealth! I'm a happier wretch than you, 32 SONG. TO ARMS, COLUMBIA ! Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society. Tune-" HE COMES! HE COMES ! To arms, to arms, when Honour cries, To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea, Columbia's Eagle soars so high, He kens the sun with sovereign eye; Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour, Nor perches, when the thunders roar. Like Glory's dazzling bird of day, To arms, Columbia, &c. Shall Gallia bid our oaks descend, Her rubrick banner to defend? Enslave those forests, reared to reign, To arms, Columbia, &c. Can glow-worm vie with noontide Sun, Revenge! Revenge! The flag's unfurled! The fate of nations waits the hour, To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea, SONG. RULE NEW-ENGLAND. Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, May, 1802. WHAT arm a sinking State can save, Looks round her realm, and thus replies, Rule New-England! New-England rules and saves! Columbians never, never shall be slaves. New-England, first in Freedom's Van, Still true to virtue, dares to say, Order is Freedom-Man, obey! Rule, &c. Gloomed, like Cimmeria's beamless day, Delusion drugged a nation's veins ; And Truth was philtered in her chains. Rule, &c. 'Twas now the witching time of night, When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright; |