And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again? Archilochus

Sunday, May 1, 2022

Tune-A Dauphin's born, &c.

How happy thus once more
To hail returning Spring!
Friends, welcome to our shore,
And cheerful be the day:
Join every voice with loud acclaim,
Our Guardian's praise to sing;
Echo round his grateful name,
Let hills and valleys ring.
For Tammany demands our song,
Then swell the votive strain,
His name shall float along
The breeze that sweeps the plain.

Whilst vanquished monster grace
The saints of distant lands,
No fabled tales we trace;
For still recorded stands
How Tammany, in ages past,
Subdued our father's foes,
Till he, worn down with age at last,
A sainted hero rose:
Such was the chief who claims our song,-
Then swell, &c.

No wild ambitious strife
His equal mind could charm;
No sullen scorn of life,
Impell'd his vengeful arm,
Nor caprice or revenge could lead
His steadfast heart astray;
If justice doomed his foes to bleed,
Reluctant he'd obey:
Such was the prince who claims our song,-
Then swell, &c.

When first our wandering sires,
Transplanted freedom here,
Bright burn'd his council fires,
Their sinking hopes to cheer;
No ambush'd murder stain'd the wild,
Or midnight guile betrayed;
Whene'er the mighty chieftan smil'd,
Ordained his pow'rful aid:
Such was the prince who claims out song,-
Then swell, &c.

His native force of mind
Pierc'd the incumbent gloom,
And thus in stile refind,
Portray'd our future doom:
Our tawny race, thought fierce and bold,
Your sons shall overwhelm;
And long shall they in freedom hold
This rich, extensive realm:
Such was the Saint who claims our song, -
Then swell, &c.

As through a misty cloud
(And here he drop'd a tear)
I see a hostile crowd
Their bloody banners rear;
Like you indeed the warriors seem,
But oft they'r wrapt in fire:
How dreadful do their lightnings gleam,
And ah! your sons retire:
Such was the chief who claims out song,-
Then swell, &c.

With aspect fierce he gaz'd
Then wild with rapture cry'd,
Your foes recoil amaz'd,
To shelter on the tide;
And who is he serenely great
Who leads your columns on?
But here was clos'd the book of fate,
Or he'd read Washington:
Such was the Saint who claims our song,-
Then swell, &c.

Still in returning May
His rights shall be our care,
And hollow'd be the day,
On each succeeding year:
Our sons sing his sainted name,
Till time shall be no more,
Now hov'ring on the wings of fame,
He marks and guards this shore.
Thus Tammany demands our song,
Then swell, &c.
Lilliput Wigwam, May 1st 1788

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