The mode is this, now acted on;
In conflagrating Washington,
They held our independence gone!
Supposing George's house at Kew
Were burnt, (as we intend to do,)
Would that be burning England too?
Supposing, near the silver Thames
We laid in ashes their saint James,
Or Blenheim palace wrapt in flames;
Made Hampton Court to fire a prey,
And meanly, then, to sneak away,
And never ask them, what's to pay?
Would that be conquering London town?
Would that subvert the english throne,
Or bring the royal system down?
With all their glare of guards or guns,
How would they look like simpletons,
And not at all the lion's sons!
Supposing, then, we take our turn
And make it public law, to burn,
Would not old english honor spurn
At such a mean insidious plan
Which only suits some savage clan—
And surely not—the english man!
A doctrine has prevail'd too long;
A king, they hold, can do no wrong—
Merely a pitch-fork, without prong:
But de'il may trust such doctrines, more,—
One king, that wrong'd us, long before,
Has wrongs, by hundreds, yet in store.