rk'ning to reason, and listening to the
voice of COMMON SENSE.

THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY

Hail! Patriots,[5] hail! by me inspired be!
Speak boldly, think and act for Liberty,
United sons, America's choice band,
Ye Patriots firm, ye sav'ours of the land.
Hail! Patriots, hail! rise with the rising sun,
Nor quit your labour, till the work is done.
Ye early risers in your country's cause,
Shine forth at noon, for Liberty and Laws.
Build a strong tow'r, whose fabric may endure
Firm as a rock, from tyranny secure.
Yet would you build my fabric to endure,
Be your hearts warm--but let your hands be pure.
Never to shine, yourselves, your country sell;
But think you nobly, while in place act well.
Let no self-server general trust betray,
No picque, no party, bar the public way.
Front an arm'd world, with union on your side:
No foe shall shake you--if no friends divide.
At night repose, and sweetly take your rest;
None sleeps so sound as those by conscience blest;
May martyr'd patriots whisper in your ear,
To tread the paths of virtue without fear;
May pleasing visions charm your patriot eyes;
While Freedom's sons shall hail you blest and wise,
Hail! my last hope, she cries, inspired by me,
Wish, talk, write, fight, and die--for LIBERTY.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] The Congress

THE PROLOGUE

_Spoken by_ Mr. Peter Buckstail.

Since 'tis the fashion, preface, prologue next,
Else what's a play?--like sermon without text!
Since 'tis the fashion then, I'll not oppose;
For what's a man if he's without a nose?
The curtain's up--the music's now begun,
What is 't?--Why murder, fire, and sword, and gun.
What scene?--Why blood!--What act?--Fight and be free!
Or be ye slaves--and give up liberty!
Blest Continent, while groaning nations round
Bend to the servile yoke, ignobly bound,
May ye be free--nor ever be opprest
By murd'ring tyrants, but a land of rest!
What say ye to 't? what says the audience?
Methinks I hear some whisper COMMON SENSE.
Hark! what say them Tories?--Silence--let 'em speak,
Poor fools! dumb--they hav'n't spoke a word this week,
Dumb let 'em be, at full end of their tethers,
'Twill save the expense of tar and of feathers:
Since old Pluto's lurch'd 'em, and swears he does not know
If more these Tory puppy curs will ba