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ode for neral washgton&039;s birthday

no spartan tube, no attic shell,

no lyre aeolian i awake;

&039;tis liberty&039;s bold note i swell,

thy harp, bia, let take!

see gatherg thoands, while i sg,

a broken cha exultg brg,

and dash it a tyrant&039;s face,

and dare hi to his very beard,

and tell hi he no ore is feared—

no ore the despot of bia&039;s race!

a tyrant&039;s proudest sults brav&039;d,

they shout—a people freed! they hail an epire saved

where is an&039;s god-like for?

where is that brow erect and bold—

that eye that can unov&039;d behold

the wildest ra, the loudest stor

that e&039;er created fury dared to raise?

avaunt! thou caitiff, servile, base,

that treblest at a despot&039;s nod,

yet, crouchg under the iron rod,

canst ud the hand that struck th&039; sultg blow!

art thou of an&039;s iperial le?

dost boast that untenance dive?

each skulkg feature answers, no!

but e, ye ns of liberty,

bia&039;s offsprg, brave as free,

danr&039;s hour still fg the van,

ye know, and dare ata, the royalty of an!

alfred! on thy starry throne,

surrounded by the tuneful choir,

the bards that erst have struck the patriot lyre,

and ro&039;d the freeborn briton&039;s ul of fire,

no ore thy engnd own!

dare jured nations for the great design,

to ake detested tyrants bleed?

thy engnd execrates the glorio deed!

beneath her hostile banners wavg,

every pang of honour bravg,

engnd thunder calls, “the tyrant&039;s cae is e!”

that hour aurst how did the fiends rejoice

and hell, thro&039; all her nfes, raise the exultg voice,

that hour which saw the nero english na

lkt with such daned deeds of everstg sha!

thee, caledonia! thy wild heaths aong,

fa&039;d for the artial deed,