The tories came with long address,
With poems groaned the royal press,
And all in William's praise—
The youth, astonished, looked about
To find their vast dominions out,
Then answered in amaze:
"Where all your vast domain can be,
Friends, for my soul I cannot see;
'Tis but an empty name;
Three wasted islands and a town
In rubbish buried—half burnt down,
Is all that we can claim;
"I am of royal birth, 'tis true,
But what, my sons, can princes do,
No armies to command?
Cornwallis conquered and distrest—
Sir Henry Clinton grown a jest—
I curse—and quit the land."
EUTAW SPRINGS.
TO THE MEMORY OF THE BRAVE AMERICANS, UNDER GENERAL GREENE, IN SOUTH CAROLINA, WHO FELL IN THE ACTION OF SEPTEMBER 8, 1781, AT EUTAW SPRINGS.
By PHILIP FRENEAU.
At Eutaw Springs the valiant died:
Their limbs with dust are covered o'er—
Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide;
How many heroes are no more!