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1752–1832

ADDRESS

Philip Morin Freneau

Say — shall we pause, and here conclude our page, Or waft it onward to the coming age?— Just as You say, whose efforts shook his throne, And plucked the brightest gem from George's crown —

Who, armed in Freedom's cause with hearts of steel, Have through these stormy times toiled for the common weal; Nor quit that standard thousands have deserted, By foreign arts, or gold, or titles re-converted.

If You, propitious to the press and pen, Gave vigour to the cause that roused up men When slavery's sons approached with Britain's fleet, Still we demand your aid — for Britain hates you yet:

Not with the sword and gun she now contends But wages silent war, and by corruption bends, Foe to the system that enlightens man, Here, thrones she would erect, and frustrate Freedom's plan.

Here, on this virgin earth, the soil unstained, Where yet no tyrant has his purpose gained, Keep bright that flame which every bosom fired When Hessian hirelings from these lands retired,

When, worn and wasted, all that murdering crew And British squadrons from the Hudson flew; When, leagued with France, you darts of vengeance hurled, And bade defiance to the despot world.

Ye heirs and owners of the future age Who soon will shove old actors from the stage, To you the care of liberty they trust When Washington and Gates are laid in dust —

When Jefferson, with Greene, in long repose Shall sleep, unconscious of your bliss or woes, Seeming to say, Be wise, be free, my sons, Nor let one tyrant trample on our bones.

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ADDRESS · Philip Morin Freneau · Poetry Cove