that unmov'd behold
the wildest rage, the loudest storm
that e'er created fury dared to raise?
avaunt! thou caitiff, servile, base,
that tremblest at a despot's nod,
yet, croug uhe iron rod,
st ud the hand that struck th' insulting blow!
art thou of man's imperial line?
dost boast that tenance divine?
each skulkiure answers, no!
but e, ye sons of liberty,
bia's offspring, brave as free,
in danger's hour still fming in the van,
ye know, and dare maintain, the royalty of man!
alfred! on thy starry throne,
surrounded
Ode For General Washingtons Birthday(2/5)