Ode for General Washington’s Birthday

13Where is man’s god-like form?

14 Where is that brow erect and bold—

15 That eye that can unmov’d behold

16The wildest rage, the loudest storm

17That e’er created fury dared to raise?

18Avaunt! thou caitiff, servile, base,

19That tremblest at a despot’s nod,

20Yet, crouching under the iron rod,

21 Canst laud the hand that struck th’ insulting blow!

22Art thou of man’s Imperial line?

23Dost boast that countenance divine?

24 Each skulking feature answers, No!

25But come, ye sons of Liberty,

26Columbia’s offspring, brave as free,

27In danger’s hour still flaming in the van,

28Ye know, and dare maintain, the Royalty of Man!

29Alfred! on thy starry throne,

30 Surrounded by the tuneful choir,

31 The bards that erst have struck the patriot lyre,

32 And rous’d the freeborn Briton’s soul of fire,

33No more thy England own!

34Dare injured nations form the great design,

35 To make detested tyrants bleed?

36 Thy England execrates the glorious deed!

37 Beneath her hostile banners waving,

38 Every pang of honour braving,

39England in thunder calls, “The tyrant’s cause is mine!”

40That hour accurst how did the fiends rejoice

41And hell, thro’ all her confines, raise the exulting voice,

42That hour which saw the generous English name

43Linkt with such damned deeds of everlasting shame!

44Thee, Caledonia! thy wild heaths among,

45Fam’d for the martial deed, the heaven-taught song,

46 To thee I turn with swimming eyes;

47Where is that soul of Freedom fled?

48Immingled with the mighty dead,

49 Beneath that hallow’d turf where Wallace lies

50Hear it not, WALLACE! in thy bed of death.

51 Ye babbling winds! in silence sweep,

52 Disturb not ye the hero’s sleep,

53Nor give the coward secret breath!

54Is this the ancient Caledonian form,

55Firm as the rock, resistless as the storm?

56Show me that eye which shot immortal hate,

57 Blasting the despot’s proudest bearing;

58Show me that arm which, nerv’d with thundering fate,

59 Crush’d Usurpation’s boldest daring!—

60Dark-quench’d as yonder sinking star,

61No more that glance lightens afar;

62That palsied arm no more whirls on the waste of war.