peed rush to the charge,
like furious devils driving.
what verse sing, rose narrate,
the butcher deeds of bloody fate,
amid this mighty tulyie!
grim hirn'd, pale terror roar'd,
as murder at his thrapple shor'd,
and hell mix'd in the brulyie.
as highnd craigs by thunder cleft,
when lightnings fire the stormy lift,
hurl down with crashing rattle;
as fmes among a hundred woods,
as headlong foam from a hundred floods,
such is the rage of battle.
the stubborn tories dare to die;
as soon the rooted oaks would fly
before th'
Election Ballad(7/11)