William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
The Impressed AmericanO!
How my bosom with anguish is torn,
When I think, with regret, on those dear native plains,
Where none but a freeman is born?
Who wolf-like can prey on the weak;
Who deny the unfortunate man a redress,
And permit not the poor man to speak.
As rudely I’m toss’d on the main;
Fell Tyranny’s mandate, with lawless control,
Plies the lash—dare her victims complain?
For my friends and my country I mourn;
And in retrospect trace all the scenes in that soil,
Where perhaps I shall never return.
That would cherub-like spring on my knee;
My brain is on fire, my thoughts are as wild
As the storm-enraged waves of the sea.
There’s a Providence ruling on high,
Who the widow and orphan takes under his care,
And notes each oppress’d man’s sigh.