A Memorial for Britons/An Address to Britons
An Address to BRITONS.
ROUSE, Brtions! and assert Your Country's Cause,
Your true Religion, and your Righteous Laws:
With Rage indignant, hasten the just Doom
Of Gallic Miscreants, and the Tools of Rome.
Rebellion, Monster, horrible to Sight!
From Northern Caves emerges into Light,
Behold her Banners wave in Scotia's Air!
And see a new Pretender leads the War!
Britons, 'tis Yours, with Voice, with Heart, and Hand,
Of these infectious Pests to purge the Land:
Nurtur'd in Climes where Pow'r Despotic reigns,
And shackles the free Mind in slavsh Chains;
Where Liberty in secret vents her Groans,
And Tyrants Rage on Arbitrary Thrones:
Shall These, to brutal Servitude innur'd,
In Britan, Land of Freedom, be endur'd?
The British Genius startles at th' Alarm,
And bids her Sons confederated, Arm;
Arm, the mild, legal Empire to defend,
Of GEORGE, her firm, avow'd, experienc'd Friend.
Thus, soon shall your associating Bands,
'Gainst all invading Pow'rs secure your Strands;
And rash Disturbers wail their vanquish'd Schemes
To Ruin urg'd, by wild and frantic Dreams.