But will they once more be engaged in a war, Be fated to discord again? A peace to the nations will nothing restore But the challenge of death and a deluge of gore!
A modern crusade Is undoubtedly made:— With treaties rejected, and treaties renew'd, A permanent treaty they never conclude.
And who is to blame? we submissively ask — Did nature predestine this curse to mankind; Or is it the cruel detestable task That tyrants impose, with their minions combined?
We are anxious to know The source of our wo In a world where the blessings of nature abound Why discord, the bane of her blessings, is found.
Must our freedom, our labors, our commerce, our all Be tamely surrender'd, to tyrants convey'd; Must the flag of the country disgracefully fall, To be torn by the dogs of the slaughtering trade?
Does no one reply, With a tear in his eye, It must be the case, if we do not resent What monarchs have menaced and tyranny meant.
Not a ship, or a barque, that departs from the shore But her cargo is plunder'd, her sailors are slain, Or arriving in England, we see them no more, Condemn'd in the court of deceit and chicane,
Where their wicked decrees And their costs and their fees Have ruin'd the merchant — mechanics half fed, And sailors uncaptured are begging their bread.
To reason with tyrants is surely absurd; To argue with them is to preach to the deaf: They argue alone by the length of the sword; Their honor the same as the word of a thief.
In such to confide When a cause they decide, Is the wolf and the lamb ( if the tale we recall ) Where the weakest and meekest must go to the wall.
But an englishman's throat is expanded so wide Not the ocean itself is a mess for his maw: And missions there are, and a scoundrel employ'd To divide, and to rule by the florentine law :
New-England must join In the knavish design, As some have predicted to those who believe‘ em; — The event is at hand — may the devil deceive‘ em.
With an empire at sea and an empire on land, And the system projected, monopolization, The western republic no longer will stand Than answers the views of a desperate nation,
Who have shackled the east, Made the native a beast, And are scheming to give us — the matter is clear — A man of their own for the president's chair,
Then arouse from your slumbers, ye men of the west, Already the indian his hatchet displays; Ohio's frontier, and Kentucky distrest; The village, and cottage, are both in a blaze:—
Then indian and english No longer distinguish, They bribe, and are bribed, for a warfare accurst; Of the two, we can hardly describe which is worst.
In the court of king Hog was a council convened, In which they agreed we are growing too strong: They snuffled and grunted, and loudly complained The sceptre would fall, if they suffer'd it long;
To cut up our trade Was an object, they said, The nearest and dearest of all in their view; Not a fish should be caught if old England said, No!
Then arouse from your slumbers, ye men of the west, A war is approaching, there's room to suppose; The rust on your guns we abhor and detest, So brighten them up — we are coming to blows
With the queen of the ocean The prop of devotion, The bulwark of all that is truly divine; A motto she often has put on her sign.
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