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96 THE BURNING OF CHARLESTOWN.
Yet far more dismal to the patriot's eye,
The drear remains of Charlestown's former show,
Behind whose walls did hundred warriors die, And Britain's centre felt the fatal blow.
To see a town so elegantly form'd,
Such buildings graced with every curious art, Spoil'd in a moment, on a sudden storm'd,
Must fill with indignation every heart.
But when we find the reasons of her fate To be but trifling — trifling did I say ?
For being noble! daring to be great, Nor calmly yielding to tyrannic sway !
To see the relics of that once famed place, Pointing to Heaven, as 'twere in ardent cry,
By lawless power robb'd of every grace,
Yet calling bolts of vengeance from on high:
To find, I say, such dealings with mankind, To see those royal robbers planted near
Those glorious buildings, turning into wind, And loath to mingle with the common air.