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Brackenridge, H. H. (1748-1816)

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[section]
  
ANSWER TO A CHALLENGE.
  
THE AUTHOR AND THE CRITIC.
  
A Masque, written at the Warm-Springs, in Virginia, in the year 1784.
  
On the running away of the Nineteen Members of Assembly from the house, when it was proposed to call a Convention to consider the new system of Congressional Government; and on the apology made by them in their address, &c.
  
Apology for the Dissentients in the State Convention.
  
THOUGHTS ON INDIAN TREATIES.
  
On his excellency Anthony Wayne, commander in chief of the Federal Army, who died at Presq'isle, Dec. 14, 1796, on his return from his campaign against the Indians.
  
Genethlicon of the United States Magazine.
  
CINCINNATUS.
  
TO WHISKEY.
  
WHISKEY,
  
ANSWER TO AQUA VITÆ.
  
ANSWER TO BRUCE.
  
BRUCE TO AQUA VITÆ.
  
TO --- BRUCE.
  
ANSWER.
  
REPLY.
  
To the Sons of St. Andrew on the celebration of a late festival.
  
Ideas at the interment of Mrs. Bedford, the wife of Doctor Nathaniel Bedford of Pittsburgh, July 9th, 1790.
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THE BATTLE OF BUNKERS HILL,
  
Prologue, by Colonel John Park, of the American army.
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[section]
collapse section1. 
ACT I.
 1. 
SCENE I.
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ACT II.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
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ACT III.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
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ACT IV.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
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ACT V.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV. AND LAST.
  
THE MODERN CHEVALIER.
  
A PASTORAL SONG.

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290

SCENE IV.

Enter Gardiner, with Seven Hundred Men.
Gardiner.
This is the hill, brave countrymen, whose brow
We mean to fortify. A strong redoubt,
Be speedily thrown up. Let each himself,
Not underserving, of our choice approve,
For out of thousands, I have challeng'd you.
To this bold enterprize, as men of might,
And valour eminent, and such this day,
I trust, will honour you. Let each his spade,
And pick-axe, vig'rously, in this hard soil,
Where I have laid the line, exert
The orient star, bright Lucifer,
Peers on the firmament, and soon the day,
Flush'd with the golden sun, shall visit us.
Then gallant countrymen, should faithless Gage,
Pour forth his lean, and half starv'd myrmidons;
We'll make them taste our catridges, and know,
What rugged steel, our bayonets are made of;
Or if o'er charg'd, with numbers, bravely fall,
Like those three hundred at Thermopylæ,
And give our Country, credit in our deaths.

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