ARGUMENT.

The armies which are addressed designated, and the subject proposed-Great-Britain commences hostility against her Colonies -the Colonies arm-contrast of the two armies-battle of Bunker's-Hill-a Commander in Chief appointed to the American armies—his character—augmentation of the American forces— reinforcements to those of Britain-peculiarly affecting circumstances which attended the deaths of Brown, Scammel and Laurens-eulogium of the American troops-anticipation that their meritorious services and sufferings will be consigned to immortality-apostrophe to Britain on the cruelty practised upon prisoners, and its effects in exciting such indignation in the Americans as will tend to the emancipation of their country -view of the successes of the American arms at Trenton, Princeton, Saratoga, Stony-Point, in the Southern States, and at York-Town-tribute of gratitude to the French King and nation-still the Americans are to rely on their own resources for the establishment of independence-apostrophe to indepen▾ dence-Britain obliged to relinquish her ideas of conquestdawn of peace-invocation to peace-address to the armies on the happiness to be expected from it-invitation for them to settle in the western country—its beauties and advantages described-enjoyments resulting from the friendship of those who were in arms together-character of Americans in different ages-improvements of every kind in America-prayer to the Supreme Being that its felicity may become complete and perpetual.

YE martial bands! Columbia's fairest pride!
To toils inur'd, in dangers often try'd-
Ye gallant youths! whose breasts for glory burn,
Each selfish aim and meaner passion spurn:
Ye who, unmov'd, in the dread hour have stood,
And smil'd, undaunted, in the field of blood-
Who greatly dar'd, at Freedom's rapt'rous call,
With her to triumph, or with her to fall-
Now brighter days in prospect swift ascend;
Ye sons of fame, the hallow'd theme attend;
The past review; the future scene explore,
And Heav'n's high King with grateful hearts adore!

What time proud Albion, thund'ring o'er the waves,
Frown'd on her sons, and bade them turn to slaves-
When, lost to honour, virtue, glory, shame,

When nought remain'd of Britain but the name-
The parent state-a parent now no more-
Let loose the hirelings of despotic power,
Urg'd to keen vengeance their relentless ire,

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And hop'd submission from their sword and fire.

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As when dark clouds, from Andes' tow'ring head,
Roll down the skies, and round th' horizon spread,
With thunders fraught, the black'ning tempest sails,
And bursts tremend❜ous o'er Peruvian vales:
So broke the storm, on Concord's fatal plain;
There fell our brothers, by fierce ruffians slain—
Inglorious deed! to wild despair then driv'n,
We, suppliant, made our great appeal to heav'n.
Then the shrill trumpet echo'd from afar,
And sudden blaz'd the wasting flame of war;
From State to State, swift flew the dire alarms,
And ardent youths, impetuous, rush'd to arms:
"To arms" the matrons and the virgins sung,

To arms, their sires, their husbands, brothers sprung.
No dull delay-where'er the sound was heard,
Where the red standards in the air appear'd,

Where, through vast realms, the cannon swell'd its roar,
Between th' Acadian and Floridian shore.

Now join'd the crowd, from their far distant farms, In rustic guise, and unadorn'd in arms:

Not like their foes, in tinsel trappings gay,

And burnish'd arms that glitter'd on the day;

Who now advanc'd, where Charlestown rear'd its height,
In martial pomp, and claim'd the awful sight;
And proudly deem'd, with one decisive blow,
To hurl destruction on the routed foe.

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Not so just heav'n had fix'd the great decree,
And bade the sons of freemen still be free;
Bade all their souls with patriot ardour burn,
And taught the coward fear of death to spurn;
The threats of vengeance and of war to brave,
To purchase freedom, or a glorious grave.
Long rag'd the contest on th' embattled field;

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Nor those would fly, nor these would tamely yield

Till Warren fell, in all the boast of arms,

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The pride of genius and unrivall'd charms,

His country's hope!-full soon the gloom was spread:
Oppress'd with numbers, and their leader dead,

Slow from the field the sullen troops retir'd;
Behind, the hostile flame to heav'n aspir'd.

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Th' imperious Britons, on the well-fought ground,

No cause for joy or wanton triumph found,

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But saw with grief their dreams of conquest vain,
Felt the deep wounds, and mourn'd their vet'rans slain.

Nor less our woes. Now darkness gather'd round;
The thunder rumbled, and the tempest frown'd;
When lo! to guide us through the storm of war,
Beam'd the bright splendour of Virgínia's star.
O first of heroes, fav'rite of the skies,
To what dread toils thy country bade thee rise!
“Oh rais'd by heav'n to save th' invaded state!”*
(So spake the sage long since thy future fate)
'Twas thine to change the sweetest scenes of life
For public cares-to guide th' embattled strife;
Unnumber'd ills of ev'ry kind to dare,
The winter's blast, the summer's sultry air,
The lurking dagger, and the turbid storms
Of wasting war, with death in all his forms.
Nor aught could daunt. Unspeakably serene,
Thy conscious soul smil❜d o'er the dreadful scene.

The foe then trembled at the well known name;
And raptur'd thousands to his standard came.
His martial skill our rising armies form'd;
His patriot zeal their gen'rous bosoms warm'd:
His voice inspir'd, his godlike presence led,
The Britons saw, and from his presence fled.

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Soon reinforc'd from Albion's crowded shore,

New legions came, new plains were drench'd in gore;

And scarce Columbia's arm the fight sustains,

While her best blood gush'd from a thousand veins,

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Then thine, O Brown! that purpled wide the ground,
Pursued the knife through many a ghastly wound,

Ah hapless friend! permit the tender tear
To flow e'en now, for none flow'd on thy bier,
Where cold and mangled, under northern skies,
To famish'd wolves a prey thy body lies;
Which erst so fair and tall in youthful grace,
Strength in thy nerves, and beauty in thy face,
Stood like a tow'r, till struck by the swift ball;
Then what avail'd (to award th' untimely fall)

*This alludes to expressions made use of by president Davies, in a sermon preached at Hanover, in Virginia, during the war of 1755.

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The force of limbs, the mind so well inform'd,
The taste refin'd, the breast with friendship warm'd,
(That friendship which our earliest years begun)
Or what the laurels that thy sword had won,
When the dark bands from thee, expiring, tore
Thy long hair mingled with the spouting gore?
Nor less, brave Scammel, frown'd thine angry fate,
(May deathless shame that British deed await!)
On York's fam'd field, amid the first alarms,
Ere yet fair vict'ry crown'd the allied arms,
Fell chance betray'd thee to the hostile band,
The hapless victim of th' assassin hand!
Lo! while I tell the execrable deed,

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Fresh in his side the dark wound seems to bleed;
That small red current still for vengeance cries,
And asks, "Why sleeps the thunder in the skies?"
On him, ye heav'ns, let all your vengeance fall,
On the curst wretch who wing'd th' insidious ball.
But thou, blest shade, be sooth'd! be this thy praise,
Ripe were thy virtues, though too few thy days!
Be this thy fame, through life of all approv'd,
To die lamented, honour'd, and belov'd.

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And see, far south, where yonder hearse appears,

An army mourning, and a land in tears!

There Laurens, passing to an early tomb,

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Looks like a flow'r just with'ring in its bloom.

Thy father's pride, the glory of our host!

Thy country's sorrow, late thy country's boast!

O Laurens! gen'rous youth! twice hadst thou bled;

Could not the ball with devious aim have sped?

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And must thy friends, now peace appears so near,
Weep the third stroke that cuts a life so dear;
That blots the prospect of our rising morn,
And leaves thy country, as thy sire, forlorn?
Companions lov'd! long as the life-blood flows,
Or vital warmth in this fond bosom glows,
While there I cherish your remembrance dear,
Oft will I drop the tributary tear.

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But what avails to trace the fate of war

Through fields of blood, and point each glorious scar?
Why should the strain your former woes recall,

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The tears that wept a friend or brother's fall,