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Think of each living father's rev'rend head,
Think of each ancestor with glory dead;
Absent, by me they speak, by me they sue,
They ask their freedom and their fame from you;
Your fates and their's, on this one action lay,
We all are lost, if you desert the day;

Our daughters ravish'd, and our sires in chains,
Our slaughter'd chieftains strew the mournful plains.
Dread not your num'rous foes; to Jove belongs
Our right'ous cause, and the revenge of wrongs:
Your trembling wives with tears this instant call,
T' repulse the robbers by their wooden wall."
Then lo! a warrior spoke unknown to fame,
A cautious youth, and MINGO was his name;
He view'd the ships with a dejected look,
And as he view'd them, to the hero spoke :
"How oft, my leader, thy reproach I bear,
For words well meant, and sentiments sincere;
True to the councils which I judge the best,
I tell the faithful dictates of my breast;

To speak his thoughts is ev'ry freeman's right,
In peace, in war, in council, or in fight:
And all I move, deferring to thy sway,

But tends to raise that pow'r which I obey:
Then hear my words, nor may my words be vain,
Seek not this day the Christains' boats to gain,
For hosts oppose us and we must be slain.
Tho' we may threaten yon grand painted fleet,
Tho' tyrants fall on tyrants at our feet,
Toils unforeseen and fiercer, are decreed,
This day, I fear, will see our heroes bleed."
To him LOUVERTURE with disdain return'd,
Fierce as he spoke his eyes with fury burn'd:
"Are these the faithful councils of your tongue;

Your will is partial, not your reason wrong;
Or if the purpose of your heart you vent,

Sure heav'n resumes the little sense it lent.
What coward councils would your madness move?
Jove can defend....May we not trust in Jove?
Without a sign his sword the brave man draws,
And asks no omen, but his country's cause;
But why should'st thou suspect the war's success,
None fears it more, as none promotes it less;
Tho' all our chiefs amid yon boats expire,
Trust thy own cowardice t' escape their fire;
Me and my chiefs may find a gen❜ral grave,
But thou can'st live, for thou can'st be a slave:
Yet should the fears that wary mind suggests,
Spread their cold poison thro' our heroes' breasts,
My jav'lin can revenge so base a part,
And free the soul that quivers in thy heart."
The sable chief with fix'd resentment ey'd
The martial leader, and sedate reply'd :
Say, is it just my prince, that MINGO's ear
From such a hero such a speech should hear?
I deem'd thee once the wisest of thy kind,
But ill this insult suits a pious mind:
I shun the Christians, I desert my train?
'Tis mine to prove the rash assertion vain!
I joy to mingle with the warriors' train,
And die or conquer on th' embattled plain.
March to yon vessels, let us hew the way,
And thou be witness if I fear to day."
"Debate no more (the prince replies) but fight,
Urge those who stand, and those who faint excite;
Safety not conquest fills the thoughts of all,

And let us sally on each wooden wall;

So Jove once more may drive their routed train;

To tremble in their wooden walls again;
For Jove's high will is ever uncontrol'd,

The strong he withers, and confounds the bold;
Now crowns with fame the mighty man, and now
Strikes the fresh garland from the victor's brow."
Furious he spoke, and rushing to the wall,
Calls on his chiefs, his chiefs obey the call;
With ardor follow where their leader flies,
Redoubling clamor thunders in the skies.
Meantime the foe still land their lawless train,
Some watch impatient the retreating main,
Then vault and seize the half recover'd shores,
Some slide, more vent'rous, down the bending oars,
From boat to boat in haste the ruffians fly,
But with less speed, the breaking waves too nigh.
So when a horseman from the watry mead,
Skill'd in the manage of the bounding steed,
Drives four fair coursers practis'd to obey,
To some great city thro' the public way,
Safe in his art as side by side they run,
He shifts his seat, and vaults from one to one;
And now to this and now to that he flies,
Admiring numbers follow with their eyes.
From boat to boat thus swift the ruffians flew,
In haste to land the whole assassin crew:
A place at length their proud commander spy'd,
Where in smooth swellings roll'd an easy tide,
There as no waters break, no surges roar,
He fears no shoals, but hopes an easy shore;
Thither his boats all from the deep he drew,
And eager thus exhorts the naval crew :
"Now, now brave boys, exert your utmost force,
Ply, ply your oars, urge your furious course;

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Pull, heave your desp'rate long-boats to the strand,
Plow with your stems and keels the hostile land;
My sole ambition is to gain the coast,

And then no matter if the boats are lost."

So spoke the chief, and LECLERC was his name,
A subtle foe, of celebrated fame;

So spoke th' impatient chief, and as he spoke
They ply their oars, and rise to ev'ry stroke;
Full on the land the rushing long-boats bore,
Till with their keels they cleave the sandy shore;
Safe to the shelving beach the long-boats run,
All 'scap'd the rocks, bold LECLERC, but thy own :
Thy own amidst the shallows rush'd, and there
Dash'd on a rock, and sloping hung in air;
Press'd by a war of waves her shatter'd sides
Burst, and the troops plung'd headlong in the tides;
They swim, assisted by their wooden oars,

The long, long surges, bare them to the shores.
The troops all landed on the yellow sand,
The ships at distance from the battle stand,
In lines advanc'd along the shelving strand,
Whose bay the fleet unable to contain,
At length beside the margin of the main ;
Close to the shore beneath the waving scene
Of groves that paint the checquer'd floods with green,
Rank above rank the painted ships they moor,
Who landed first lay nearest to the shore.
His eager troops the furious LECLERC warms,
His bloody myrmidons to blood and arms;
All breathing death, around their chief they stand,
In rank and file, a grim terrific band.

Grim as voracious wolves that seek the springs,
When scalding thirst their burning bowels stings,
When some tall stag fresh slaughter'd in the wood,

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Has drench'd their wide insatiate throats with blood,
To the black fount they rush, a hideous throng,
With paunch distended, and with lolling tongue;
Fire fills their eyes, their black jaws belch the gore,
And gorg'd with slaughter still they thirst for more.
Thus furious stand the cruel murd'rous crew,
Such was their strength, and such their dreadful view.
High in the midst the artful LECLERC stands,
Directs his orders, and the war commands;
His stern command his officers obey,

Himself supreme in valor as in sway :
His raging troops he views with joyful eyes,
With port majestic and gigantic size;

His pond'rous sword with studs of jewels crown'd,
Full four feet long he grimly wields around,
He calls aloud on all the Christian bands,
And thus in brief his myrmidons harrangues ;
Nor speaks like others fix'd to certain stands,
But looks a moving tow'r above the bands:
"Friends, officers and soldiers, ever dear,
Brave, bold and valiant thunderbolts of war,
Now, now be mindful of your old renown,
Your father's long try'd courage and your own;
Be bold, brave lads, this day your fortune's made,
March on invincible, be not afraid;

Each lift his cutlass for a noble blow,

Nor heed the vaunting of the savage foe;
What aids expect you in this utmost strait,
What bulwarks rising between you and fate;
Our countrymen behold on yonder plain,
All horrible with gore, and newly slain :
This day avenge them on the savage train,
Or meet their doom, and press the purple plain ;
No troops, ne bulwarks, your retreat attend,

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