About the author
Frank Moore was a journalist and Revolutionary historian. He published a number of books on the American Revolution during his career in the mid-19th century, including Songs and Ballads of the American Revolution, Diary of the American Revolution and The Patriot Preachers of the American Revolution.
This loyal song is much the best of those composed during the earliest struggles of the Colonists, and is forcibly illustrative of the nature and spirit of the times in which it was composed. It was published in the St. James Chronicle, at London, on the eighth of November, 1768, as well as in America, and intended as a rejoinder to the foregoing parody.
The Parody Parodised
COME swallow your bumpers, ye tories, and roar,
That the sons of fair Freedom are hamper’d once more; But know that no cut-throats our spirits can tame,
Nor a host of oppressors shall smother the flame.
In freedom we’re born, and, like sons of the brave,
We’ll never surrender,
But swear to defend her,
And scorn to survive, if unable to save.
Our grandsires, blest heroes! we’ll give them a tear,
Nor sully their honors, by stooping to fear;
Thro’ deaths and thro’ dangers, their trophies they won, We dare be their rivals, nor will be outdone.
Let tyrants and minions presume to despise,
Encroach on our rights, and make freedom their prize: The fruits of their rapine they never shall keep;
Tho’ vengeance may nod, yet how short is her sleep!
The tree, which proud Haman for Mordecai rear’d, Stands recorded, that virtue endanger’d is spar’d,
That rogues whom no bonds and no laws can restrain, Must be stript of their honors, and humbled again.
Our wives and our babes, still protected, shall know, Those who dare to be free, shall for ever be so;
On these arms and these hearts they may safely rely, For in freedom we’ll live, or like heroes we’ll die.
Ye insolent tyrants! who wish to enthrall
Ye minions, ye placemen, pimps, pensioners, all,
How short is your triumph! how feeble your trust !
Your honors must wither and nod to the dust.
When oppress’d and reproach’d, our king we implore, Still firmly persuaded our rights he’ll restore;
When our hearts beat to arms, to defend a just right,
Our monarch rules there, and forbids us to fight.
Not the glitter of arms, nor the dread of a fray,
Could make us submit to their chains for a day;
Withheld by affection, on Britons we call, –
Prevent the fierce conflict which threatens your fall !
All ages shall speak, with amaze and applause,
Of the prudence we show in support of our cause; Assur’d of our safety, a Brunswick still reigns,
Whose free loyal subjects are strangers to chains.
Then join hand in hand, brave Americans all !
To be free is to live, to be slaves is to fall;
Has the land such a dastard, as scorns not a lord,
Who dreads not a fetter much more than a sword.
In freedom we’re born, and, like sons of the brave,
We’ll never surrender,
But swear to defend her,
And scorn to survive, if unable to save.
Hearts of Oak. The original song, under this title, was composed by David Garrick. It was very popular during the American wars, both of 1776 and 1812, among the British, and at the present day is sung by many of
“Our soldiers, our sailors, our statesmen,” in “merrie old England.”
