To the Tyrants Infesting France
The Cambridge Intelligencer (March 1, 1794)
TYRANTS! What fiend suggests your hell-born schemes?
Shall bleeding worlds for ever tamely groan?
No—yon ascending Sun too strongly beams,
Men shall be men—perish th' oppressor's throne!—
Shall tears of Innocence for ever flow?
Shall Truth in vain her injur'd rights deplore?
Compassion, sinking with her weight of woe,
Too long has borne, what she can bear no more!
Freedom's bold sons can herded slaves oppose?
Fear PATRIOT bands the mercenary's steel?
Through wounds and deaths they whelm their wretched foes;
From trembling Fortune wrest her traiterous wheel.
Awake! while fate permits, awake and fly;
Rapid, the high swol'n sea of ruin rolls:
Too late ye bend, too late on Mercy cry,
Mercy a stranger to your own proud souls!