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Melody - "British Grenadiers"
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Vain Britons, boast no longer
with proud Indignity,
By Land--your conqu'ring Legions--
your matchless Strength at Sea!
Since WE your braver Sons, incens'd,
Our Swords have guided on,
Huzza, Huzza, Huzza, Huzza,
For WAR and WASHINGTON!

2. Urg'd on by North and Vengeance,
These valiant Champions came,
Loud bellowing TEA, and TREASON,
And GEORGE was all on Flame!
Yet sacrilegious as it seems--
We REBELS, still live on--
And laugh at all your empty Puffs,
And so does WASHINGTON!

3. Still deaf to mild Intreaties--
Still blind to England's Good,
You have for Thirty Pieces--
Betray'd your Country's Blood;
Like Æsop's greedy Cur,
You'll gain a Shadow for your Bone,
Yet find us fearful Shades indeed,
Inspir'd by WASHINGTON.

4. Mysterious! unexampled!
Incomprehensible!
The blundering Schemes of Britain,
Their Folly, Pride and Zeal!
Like Lions how ye grows,
And threat! meer Asses have ye shown,
And ye shall share an Asi's Fate,
And daudge for WASHINGTON!

5. Your dark, unfathom'd Councils--
Our weakest Heads defeat,
Our Children rout your Armies--
Our Boats destroy your Fleet!
And to compleat the dire Disgrace,
Coop'd up within a Town,
You live the Scorn of all our Host!
The Slaves of WASHINGTON!

6. Great Heav'n! is this the Nation--
Whose thund'ring Arms were hurl'd
Thro' Europe, Afric, India?
Whose Navy rul'd a World?
The Lustre of your former Deed--
Ages of Renown--
Lost! in a Moment--or transfer'd
To US and WASHINGTON.

7. Yet think not Thirst of Glory--
Unsheaths our vengeful Swords--
To read your Bands asunder--
And cast away your Cords--
'Tis Heav'n born FREEDOM fires us all--
And strengthens each brave Son--
From him who humbly guides the Plough
Tto god like WASHINGTON!

8. For THIS--O could our Wishes--
Your ancient Rage inspire!
Your Armies should be doubled--
In Numbers, Force and Fire!
Then might the glorious Conflict prove,
Which best deserv'd the Boon--
AMERICA OF ALBION--
A GEORGE or WASHINGTON!

9. Fir'd with the great idea--
Our Fathers Shades would rise!
To view the stern Contention--
The Gods desert their Skies--
And Wolfe, mid Hosts of Heroes,
Superior, bending down--
Cry out, with Transport--
Well dont, brave WASHINGTON!

10. Should GEORGE, too choice of Britons--
To foreign Realms apply--
And madly arm half Europe--
Yet still we would defy
Turk, Russian, Jew, and Infidel,
Or all those Pow'rs in one--
While HANCOCK crowns our Senate--
Our Camp great WASHINGTON.

11. Tho' warlike Weapons fail'd us--
Disdaining slavish Fears--
To Swords we'd beat our Plough-shares--
Our Pruning-hooks to Spears--
And rush all desp'rated on our Foe!
Breathe, till Battle won;
Then shout and shout, AMERICA!
And conqu'ring WASHINGTON!

12. Proud France view with Terror--
And haughty Spain should fear--
While ev'ry warlike
Would court Alliance here--
And George, his round,
Dismounted from his Throne--
Pay Homage to AMERICA
And glorious WASHINGTON!


From American Song Sheets, Series 1, Volume 6.

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