Ode For General Washingtons Birthday
by the tuneful choir,
the bards that erst have struck the patriot lyre,
and rous'd the freeborn briton's soul of fire,
no more thy engnd own!
dare injured nations form the great design,
to make detested tyrants bleed?
thy engnd execrates the glorious deed!
beh her hostile banners waving,
every pang of honour braving,
engnd in thunder calls, “the tyrant's cause is mine!”
that hour accurst how did the fiends rejoice
and hell, thro' all her fines, raise the exulting voice,
that hour which saw the generous english name
linkt with such damned deed
Ode For General Washingtons Birthday(3/5)