Now's the day and now's the hour; See the British navy lour, See approach proud George's power, England! chains and slavery.
Who would be a traitor knave? Who would fill a coward's grave? Who so base to be a slave? Traitor, coward, turn and flee.
Meet the tyrants, one and all; Freemen stand, or freemen fall-- At Columbia's patriot call, At her mandate, march away!
Former times have seen them yield, Seen them drove from every field, Routed, ruin'd, and repell'd-- Seize the spirit of those times!
By oppression's woes and pains-- By our sons in servile chains We will bleed from all our veins But they shall be--shall be free.
O'er the standard of their power Bid Columbia's eagle tower, Give them hail in such a shower As shall blast them--horse and man!
Lay the proud invaders low, Tyrants fall in every foe; Liberty's in every blow, Forward! let us do or die.
In an attack upon the town and a small fort of two guns, by the Ramillies, seventy-four gun ship, commanded by Sir Thomas Hardy; the Pactolus, 38 gun ship, Despatch, brig of 22 guns, and a razee, or bomb ship.--August, 1814.
Four gallant ships from England came Freighted deep with fire and flame, And other things we need not name, To have a dash at Stonington.
Now safely moor'd, their work begun; They thought to make the yankees run, And have a mighty deal of fun In stealing sheep at Stonington.
A deacon, then popp'd up his head And parson Jones's sermon read, In which the reverend doctor said That they must fight for Stonington.
A townsman bade them, next, attend To sundry resolutions penn'd, By which they promised to defend With sword and gun, old Stonington.
The ships advancing different ways, The britons soon began to blaze, And put th' old women in amaze, Who fear'd the loss of Stonington.
The yankees to their fort repair'd, And made as though they little cared For all that came--though very hard The cannon play'd on Stonington.
The Ramillies began the attack, Despatch came forward--bold and black-- And none can tell what kept them back From setting fire to Stonington.
The bombardiers with bomb and ball, Soon made a farmer's barrack fall, And did a cow-house sadly maul That stood a mile from Stonington.
They kill'd a goose, they kill'd a hen, Three hogs they wounded in a pen-- They dash'd away, and pray what then? This was not taking Stonington.