And, fraught with Freedom, bear the expected Raft!
Perch’d on her back, behold the Patriot train,
Muir, Ashley, Barlow, Tone, O’Connor, Paine!
While Tandy’s hand directs the blood-empurpled rein.
Ye Imps of Murder! guard her angel form,
Check the rude surge, and chase the hovering storm;
Shield from contusive rocks her timber limbs,
And guide the sweet Enthusiast[[251]] as she swims!
And now, with web-foot oars, she gains the land,
And foreign footsteps press the yielding sand: