 | The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq |  |
252
SONG. RULE NEW-ENGLAND.
[_]
Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, May, 1802.
What arm a sinking State can save,
From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave?
Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes,
Looks round her realm, and thus replies,
From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave?
Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes,
Looks round her realm, and thus replies,
Rule New-England! New-England rules and saves!
Columbians never, never shall be slaves.
Columbians never, never shall be slaves.
New-England, first in Freedom's Van,
To toil and bleed for injured man,
Still true to virtue, dares to say,
Order is Freedom—Man, obey!
To toil and bleed for injured man,
Still true to virtue, dares to say,
Order is Freedom—Man, obey!
Rule, &c.
Gloomed, like Cimmeria's beamless day,
Our realm in misted error lay,
Delusion drugged a nation's veins;
And Truth was philtered in her chains.
Our realm in misted error lay,
Delusion drugged a nation's veins;
And Truth was philtered in her chains.
Rule, &c.
'Twas now the witching time of night,
When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright;
While patriot fiends, with dæmon glare,
Flash, shriek and hurtle in the air!
When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright;
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Flash, shriek and hurtle in the air!
Rule, &c.
Alone, amid the coil serene,
New-England stands, and braves the scene,
Majestic as she lifts her eye,
The stars appear—the dæmons fly.
New-England stands, and braves the scene,
Majestic as she lifts her eye,
The stars appear—the dæmons fly.
Rule, &c.
At length the dawn, like that, which first
Upon primeval Chaos burst,
Athwart our clime its radiance throws,
And blushes at the wrecks, it shows.
Upon primeval Chaos burst,
Athwart our clime its radiance throws,
And blushes at the wrecks, it shows.
Rule, &c.
Old Massachusetts' hundred hills
Awake and chaunt the matin song;
A realm's acclaim the welkin fills,
The federal Sun returns with Strong.
Awake and chaunt the matin song;
A realm's acclaim the welkin fills,
The federal Sun returns with Strong.
Rise, &c.
And thou, pale orb of waning light,
Democracy, thou changeling Moon,
Art doomed to wheel thy maniac flight,
Unseen amid the cloudless Noon.
Democracy, thou changeling Moon,
Art doomed to wheel thy maniac flight,
Unseen amid the cloudless Noon.
Rule, &c.
| The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq | |