THE

BELGIC WAR-WHOOP,

AN ODE TO HOLLANDERS.

Written 1800.

1

CLUMP-headed Dutchmen, why are you so

stupid?

Rouse from your languor, guillotine your tyrants,

Drive Democrats and Sans Cullottes fraternal

All to the devil!

Fight as you did when William Prince of Orange Nobly withstood the cruel Duke of Alva, Heading a band of unrelenting Spaniards,

Fiercer than hell-hounds!

Fight as you would against a gang of pirates,
Led by some noted Algerine marauder ;
Fight as you would if Beelzebub himself were
Broke loose upon you.

THE BELGIC WAR-WHOOP.

While you are lull'd with Syren songs of Freedom, See you not Frenchmen riveting your shackles ? Rouse! or you soon must cease to be a nation;

Die then, or conquer !

Or, if the tigers of the fell Republic

Cannot be forc'd without the Belgic borders,

Bid Ocean merge your evil-fated country

All under water!

THE

Origin and Formation

OF

A FAMOUS LITTLE DEMOCRAT'S SOUL.*

CERTAIN sages, learned and twistical†
By reasoning, not one whit sophistical
Have prov'd what's wonderful; to wit,
The smallest atom may be split,

Then split again ad infinitum,

And diagrams, which much delight 'em,
By Mr. Martin, make it out

Beyond the shadow of a doubt.

*The little contemptible being aimed at in the following lines, was, at the time they were written, Editor to a Newspaper printed at Bennington Vermont, which was, perhaps, as vile a vehicle of sedition as ever disgraced any country.

+A word sometimes used in America, in a ludicrous sense, for cunning, artful.

ORIGIN AND FORMATION OF A DEMOCRAT'S SOUL.

Matter thus splittable, I ween,

With half an eye it may be

seen,

That spirit, being much diviner,
May be proportionably finer;

Nor is this merely postulatum,

'Tis prov'd by facts, and thus I state 'em.

Dame Nature, once, in mood of merriment,
Perform'd the following droll experiment;
She took a most diminish'd sprite,
Smaller than microscopic mite,

An hundred thousand such might lie
Wedg'd in a cambric needle's eye;
And first, by dint of her divinity,
Divided that one whole infinity
Then cull'd the very smallest particle,

And shap'd that democratic article,

That little d-v-lish dirty dole,

Which serves for Anti-H.'s soul!

THE RUSTIC REVEL.*

Written August, 1796.

BUCK and beau, and belle and beldam,

Seems to me we dance but seldom,

Fopling spruce, and damsel taper,

All convene, and have a caper.

Not a dance we've had this long time,

But you tell me 'tis a wrong time,

That 'twas never hotter known

Even in Afric's torrid zone.

Hot enough to melt the devil,

Sure 'tis foolish then to revel.

*The characters hereafter described are taken from the life.