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98 THE BURNING OF CHARLESTOWN. |
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When he shall rise (oh, Britain, dread the day, Nor can I stretch the period of thy fate);
What heart of steel, what tyrant then shall sway, A throne that's sinking by oppression's weight ?
Thy crimes, oh North, shall then like spectres stand, Nor Charlestown hindmost in the ghastly roll,
And faithless Gage, who gave the dread command, Shall find dire torments gnaw upon his soul.
Yea, in this world, we trust that ills so dread, Which fills the nation with such matchless woes,
Shall fall with double vengeance on thy head,
Nor 'scape those minions which thy court compose.
1 Curiosities of American Literature, by Rufus W. Griswold.
3 Thy thousands slain. Shortly after the battle of Breed's Hill, the following epigram appeared on a large handbill:
" The modern veni, vidi, vici.
We came, we saw, but could not beat, And so—wo sounded a retreat; On Roxbuty Hill again we saw 'em, And did, like devils, clapper-claw 'em : But warlike casuists can't discuss, If we beat them, or they beat us ; We swear we bedt, they swear we lie, WV11 tell you more on"t bye and bye." |
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