The matcht armadas still the fight maintain, But cautious, distant; lest the staggering main Drive their whole lines afoul, and one dark day Glut the proud ocean with too rich a prey. At last, where scattering fires the cloud disclose, Hulls heave in sight and blood the decks o'erflows; Here from the field tost navies rise to view, Drive hack to vengeance and the roar renew, There shatter'd ships commence their flight afar, Tow'd thro the smoke, hard struggling from the war; And some, half seen amid the gaping wave, Plunge in the whirl they make, and gorge their grave.
Soon the dark smoky volumes roll'd away, And a long line ascended into day; The pinions swell'd, Britannia's cross arose And flew the terrors of triumphing foes; When to Virginia's bay, new shocks to brave, The Gallic powers their conquering banners wave. Glad Chesapeak unfolds his bosom wide, And leads their prows to York's contracting tide; Where still dread Washington directs his way, And seas and continents his voice obey; While brave Cornwallis, mid the gathering host, Perceives his glories gone, his promised empire lost.
Columbus here with silent joy beheld His favorite sons the fates of nations wield. Here joyous Lincoln rose in arms again, Nelson and Knox moved ardent o'er the plain; Scammel alert with force unusual trod, Prepared to seal their victory with his blood; Cobb, Dearborn, Laurens, Tilghman, green in years But ripe in glory, tower'd amid their peers; Death-daring Hamilton with splendor shone, And claim'd each post of danger for his own, Skill'd every arm in war's whole hell to wield, An Ithacus in camp, an Ajax in the field.
Their Gallic friends an equal ardor fires; Brisk emulation every troop inspires: Where Tarleton turns, with hopes of flight elate, Brave Biron moves and drives him back to fate, Hems in his host, to wait, on Gloster plains, Their finish'd labors and their destined chains.
Two British forts the growing siege outflank, Rake its wide works and awe the tide-beat bank; Swift from the lines two chosen bands advance, Our light-arm'd scouts, the grenadiers of France; These young Viominil conducts to fame, And those Fayette's unerring guidance claim. No cramm'd cartouch their belted back attires, No grains of sleeping thunder wait their fires; The flint, the ramrod spurn'd, away they cast; The strong bright bayonet, imbeaded fast, Stands beaming from the bore; with this they tread, Nor heed from high-wall'd foes their showers of lead. Each rival band, tho wide and distant far, Springs simultaneous to this task of war; For here a twofold force each hero draws, His own proud country and the general cause; And each with twofold energy contends, His foes to vanquish and outstrip his friends. They summon all their zeal, and wild and warm O'er flaming ramparts pour the maddening storm, The mounted cannons crush, and lead the foe Two trains of captives to the plain below; An equal prize each gallant troop ameeds, Alike their numbers and alike their deeds.