 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
165
ENTERPRISE AND BOXER.
Through the gloom of despondence, bright glory appears,
And scatters again on the ocean its splendor;
Hark! Freedom's loud clarion proclaims to the sphere,
The names of more heroes who die to defend her;
On Lawrence's bier,
Yet glistened her tear,
When this full sounding chorus saluted her ear:
No tyrant shall ever rule over that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
And scatters again on the ocean its splendor;
Hark! Freedom's loud clarion proclaims to the sphere,
The names of more heroes who die to defend her;
On Lawrence's bier,
Yet glistened her tear,
When this full sounding chorus saluted her ear:
No tyrant shall ever rule over that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
Delighted, she listened, and learned from the strain,
That her flag was victorious while Britain's descended:
And though her tears fell for the fate of the slain,
She gloried in sons who so nobly defended:
Who in Liberty's cause,
With Heaven's applause,
Had died in defence of their country and laws.
Now vainly shall tyrants lay claim to that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
That her flag was victorious while Britain's descended:
And though her tears fell for the fate of the slain,
She gloried in sons who so nobly defended:
Who in Liberty's cause,
With Heaven's applause,
Had died in defence of their country and laws.
Now vainly shall tyrants lay claim to that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
166
Young Burrows, unknown on the annals of Fame,
Arose and laid claim to a chaplet of laurel;
Fought the Boxer, enveloped in sulphur and flame,
Till the victory he gained, though he died in the quarrel.
On victory's breast,
The hero shall rest,
While his spirit aspires to the realms of the blest.
And ne'er shall a tyrant rule over that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
Arose and laid claim to a chaplet of laurel;
Fought the Boxer, enveloped in sulphur and flame,
Till the victory he gained, though he died in the quarrel.
On victory's breast,
The hero shall rest,
While his spirit aspires to the realms of the blest.
And ne'er shall a tyrant rule over that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
Then fill up your goblets, bid sorrow adieu,
The heroes who fell are encircled with glory;
While music inspires, let us toast the brave crew,
Who survive the hot contest to tell us the story;
The fight they'll ne'er shun,
For with gun matched to gun,
In triumph we only count six to their one.
No tyrant shall ever rule over that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
The heroes who fell are encircled with glory;
While music inspires, let us toast the brave crew,
Who survive the hot contest to tell us the story;
The fight they'll ne'er shun,
For with gun matched to gun,
In triumph we only count six to their one.
No tyrant shall ever rule over that flood,
Which Lawrence and Burrows have stained with their blood.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |