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William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.

Lines Occasioned by the War—1777

NO more I’ll sing, in soft, descriptive strains,

The lofty mountain, or the sunny plains,

Nor vernal meadow, nor embowering grove,

Once the known seats of innocence and love;

For now pale Terror haunts the sylvan shade,

And hostile bands each loved retreat invade:

Fair Liberty reclines her threaten’d head,

And Peace, that blest inhabitant, has fled.

Muse! strike the lyre! direct the pensive lay,

War’s guilty rage and dreadful pomp display:

In tragic numbers, big with wo, relate

The dire effects of Britain’s restless hate.

Mark yon embattled plain, the swelling flood,

And banks yet reeking with heroic blood;

That spot no more may spring’s gay verdure grace,

But future cypress sadden all the place;

In those lone fields no grateful herbage bloom,

And the brown forest shed a deeper gloom!

While scenes of varied wo thus meet our eyes,

Fresh sighs for thee, lamented Warren, rise.

Nor long shall Britain this her triumph boast,

A happier warrior arms a happier host;

Before great Washington her sons shall fly;

He leads our troops to conquer or to die;

While Warren’s hovering ghost, each wrong repaid,

In equal dust shall see his conqueror laid.