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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,
And the vision of frenzy recall,

When in horror we leaped, with a fugitive glance,

From the flames of yon desolate Wall!
See, now, with blighting melancholy bare,
Like the monument stone at a sepulchre placed

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,
Hark! it cracks! see, it falls!

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
Softens the sorrows of its face.
Vain was thy Mother's frantick flight
To snatch thee from the Fiend of Night!
Thy Couch, alas! thy funeral pyre,
Mid shrieks of horror, sunk in fire!

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,
And laughing bid the world, Adieu !

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,
Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise;
On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred,
"Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword!

To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.

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.
To arms, Columbia, &c.

Like Glory's dazzling bird of day,
Our realm should hold imperial sway;
Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand,
Though Faction's earthquake shake the land.

To arms, Columbia, &c.

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Shall Gallia bid our oaks descend,

Her rubrick banner to defend?

Enslave those forests, reared to reign,
The future monarchs of the main?

To arms, Columbia, &c.

Can glow-worm vie with noontide Sun,
Or Lodi's chief with Washington?
Can Earth her maniack moon obey,
Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway?
To arms, Columbia, &c.

Revenge! Revenge! The flag's unfurled!
Let Freedom's cannon wake the world,
And Ocean gorge on pirates slain,
'Till Truxton Nelsonise the main!
To arms, Columbia, &c.

The fate of nations waits the hour,
Foretold to end the serpent's power;
When fallen realms shall break their trance,
And Adams bruise the head of France.

To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.

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,
From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave?
Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes,

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,
To toil and bleed for injured man,

Still true to virtue, dares to say,

Order is Freedom-Man, obey!

Rule, &c.

Gloomed, like Cimmeria's beamless day,
Our realm in misted error lay,

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;

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