For my part, I hid in a cellar (as sages
And Christians were wont in the primitive ages:
Thus the Prophet of old that was rapt to the sky,
Lay snug in a cave 'till the tempest went by,
But, as soon as the comforting spirit had spoke,
He rose and came out with his mystical cloak):
Yet I hardly could boast of a moment of rest,
The dogs were a-howling, the town was distrest!-
But our terrors soon vanish'd for suddenly Sears
Renew'd our lost courage and dry'd up our tears.
Our memories, indeed, must have strangely decay'd
If we cannot remember what SPEECHES he made
What handsome barangues upon every occasion,
How he laughed at the whim of a British Invasion!
"P-x take 'em, (said he) do you think they will come? "If they shou'd-we have only to beat on our drum, "And run up the flag of American freedom,
"And people will muster by millions to bleed 'em! "What freemen need value such blackguards as these! "Let us sink in our channel some Chevaux de Frise"And then let 'em come-and we'll show 'em fair play"But they are not madmen-I tell you-not they!'
From this very day 'till the British came in,
We liv'd, I may say, in the Desert of Sin ;—
Such beating, and bruising, and scratching, and tearing;
Such kicking, and cuffing, and cursing and swearing!—
But when they advanc'd with their numerous fleet,
And WASHINGTON made his nocturnal retreat,'
(And which they permitted, I say, to their shame,
Or else your NEW EMPIRE had been but a name).
We townsmen, like women, of Britons in dread,
Mistrusted their meaning, and foolishly fled;
Like the rest of the dunces I mounted my steed,
And galloped away with incredible speed.
TO NEWARK I hastened-but trouble and care
Got up on the crupper and follow'd me there!
There I scarcely got fuel to keep myself warm,
And scarcely found spirits to weather the storm;
And was quickly convinc'd I had little to do,
(The Whigs were in arms, and my readers were few).
So after remaining one cold winter season,
And stuffing my papers with something like treason,
And meeting misfortunes and endless disasters,
And forc'd to submit to a hundred new masters,
I thought it more prudent to hold to the one-
And (after repenting of what I had done,
And cursing my folly and idle pursuits)
Returned to the city, and hung up my boots.
As matters have gone, it was plainly a blunder, But then I expected the Whigs must knock under, And I always adhere to the sword that is longest, And stick to the party that's like to be strongest : That you have succeeded is merely a chance,
I never once dreamt of the conduct of France!-
If alliance with her you were promis'd-at least
You ought to have show'd me your STAR in the east,
Not let me go off uninform'd as a beast.
When your army I saw without stockings or shoes,
Or victuals—or money, to pay them their dues,
(Excepting your wretched Congressional paper,
That stunk in my nose like the snuff of a taper,
A cart load of which for a dram might be spent all,
That damnable bubble, the old Continental
That took people in at this wonderful crisis,
With its mottoes and emblems, and cunning devices;
Which, bad as it was, you were forc'd to admire,
And which was in fact, the pillar of fire,
To which you directed your wandering noses,
(Like the Jews in the desert conducted by MOSES.)
When I saw them attended with famine and fear,
Distress in their front, and Howe in their rear ;
When I saw them for debt incessantly dunn'd,
Nor a shilling to pay them laid up in your fund;
Your ploughs at a stand, and your ships run ashore —
When this was apparent (and need I say more?)
I handled my cane, and I look'd at my hat,
And cry'd-" God have mercy on armies like that!"
I took up my bottle, disdaining to stay,
And said " Here's a health to the Vicar of Bray," And cock'd up my beaver, and-strutted away.
Asham'd of my conduct, I sneak'd into town, (Six hours and a quarter the sun had been down) It was I remember, a cold frosty night,
And the stars in the firmament glitter'd as bright
As if (to assume a poetical stile)
Old Vulcan had give them a rub with his file.
Till this cursed night, I can honestly say,
I ne'er before dreaded the dawn of the day;
Not a wolf or a fox that is caught in a trap
E'er was so asham'd of his mighty mishap—
I couldn't help thinking what ills might befal me,
What rebels and rascals the British would call me,
And how I might suffer in credit and purse,
If not in my person, which still had been worse:
At length I resolv'd (as was surely my duty)
To go for advice to parson AUCHMUTY:
(The parson, who now I hope is in glory,
Was then upon earth, and a terrible tory,
Not COOPER himself, of ideas perplext,
So nicely could handle and torture a text,
When bloated with lies, thro' his trumpet be sounded
The damnable sin of opposing a crown'd head)
Like a penitent sinner, and dreading my fate,
In the grey of the morning I knock'd at his gate;
(No doubt he was vex'd that I rous'd him so soon,
For his worship was mostly in blankets 'till noon)
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