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The sire, the brother, and their chiefs will give ;"
And now Aurora thro' the shades of night,
Bounds o'er the horizon with sacred light;
Her footsteps chase the sable clouds away,
And ushers in the golden light of day;

Then lo, LOUVERTURE rush'd to meet the foe,
While for his brother tender sorrows filow;
And with a voice fraternal grief made strong,
H' exhorts, harangues, and animates the throng:
"Warriors, be mindful of your ancient fame,
And spread your glory by proud tyrants s'ain;
Jove is with us, I saw his hand but now,
Inspire my LANGO with his painted bow;
Indulgent Jove! how plain thy favours shine,
When righteous nations bear the marks divine!
How easy then, to see the sinking state
Of realms accurs'd, deprav'd and reprobate.
Jove will avenge th' oppress'd, his cause is ours,
Behold, ye warriors, and exert your powers.
Chieftains be first t' indulge a thirst for fame,
Your brave examples shall the rest enflame;
Tho' fierce our foes, by long indulgence vain,
To fire our town, or e'en a slave to gain
Asks toil, and sweat, and blood, and mighty pain.
Come on, a distant war no longer wage,
But hand to hand thy country's foes engage ;
Death is the worst, a fate which all must try,
And for our country 'tis a bliss to die :
The gallant man, tho' slain in fight he be,
Yet leaves his nation safe, his country free:
Entails a debt on all the grateful state,
His own brave friends shall glory in his fate,
His sire live honour'd all his race succeed,
And late posterity enjoy the deed:

}

'Tis now no time for wisdom or debates,

To your own hands are trusted all your fates;
And better far in one decisive strife,

This day shall end our labour, or our life :

Brave men be bold, and then their utmost might
Shall find its match....No more; 'tis ours to fight."
With rage he spoke, and rush'd upon the foe,
Grief edg'd his sword and strengthen'd ev'ry blow;
His men all follow, echoing clangors rise
In peals profound, and thunder to the skies.
Then, nor till then, in fight young LANGO bore
His twanging bow, employ'd on beasts before.
His 'vengful shaft a noble victim found,

And stretch'd imperious WATSON on the ground;
He first by LANGO's poison'd arrows bled,

Next STARGES then proud SANDERSON fell dead;
Fierce PETERS then fell groaning to the ground,.
The pile of carnage cruel NELSON crown'd.
Heaps fell the glorious trophies of his art,
A Christain ghost attended ev'ry dart :
Twice twenty arrows from his hand had fled,
And full twice twenty brigands he laid dead.
When e'er he twang'd the string, he pierc'd the heart,
Of some proud foe, and drench❜d in blood his dart.
When lo! a haughty ruffian, base and proud,
Meets the brave youth, and vainly boasts alond:
"Hence, you young savage, to the town again,
And play with children, and the female train;
With fear and trembling in yon town await
Your doom profound, and your approaching fate;
Go to the town, your sire awaits you there,
And leave to men the bus'ness of the war."
He said, and aim'd a meditated blow,
But LANGO shun'd the disappointed foe.

And spoke undaunted thus, "Such words employ:
"To one that dreads thee, some unwarlike boy;
Such we could give, defying and defy'd,
Mean intercourse of obloquy and pride :
I know thy force, to mine superior far,
But heav'n alone confers success in war;
Young as I am, great Jove may guide my dart,
And give it entrance in a braver heart;

We plunge our infants in the hard'ning streams,
And prematurely animate their limbs,

Our boys the forests range and kill the boar,
Nor fear the woodland monsters when they roar ;
Long thirst and hunger our bold youth can bear,
Hunt, fight, and shake embattled towns with war;
Nor flags our gen'rous warmth by years declin'd,
Still flames the noble ardour of the mind;
Ev'n the grave sire with martial vigour glows,
Scorns fear, and longs to meet his country's foes:
But you delight to profit by our toils,
Subsist on rapine, and divide the spoils;
And still you seek our nation to destroy,
And place in dying groans your cruel joy :
Warm purple robes defend your Christian bands,
Your heartless breasts, and unperforming hands,
Your sable souls your ruddy forms disgrace,
Hence then, ye tyrants, to your native place;
Haste to your native christendom away,
Ye hypocrites, nor dream of Africa."

He spoke, and now prepares his well strung bow,
And closely view'd the boasting Christian foe;
But first address'd to heav'n his ardent pray'r,
With reverential awe, and void of fear:
"My bold attempt Almighty Sire succeed,
And let this cruel tyrant also bleed !"

He pray'd, and praying, strain'd the forceful yew;
The shaft already to his shoulder drew;

The feather in his hand just wing'd for flight,
Touch'd where the neck and hollow chin unite ;
At once the twanging bow young LANGO drew.
And hissing fierce the feather'd veng'ance flew ;
Nor flew the shaft, the dreadful shaft, in vain,
But pierced his nap and stung him to the brain.
"Go, and once more the sable race defy;"
Thus the black savage negroes thus reply:
No more he said, but left the corpse profound,
With batter'd brains beating the bloody ground;
As the huge shark just hook'd and brought to land,
Beats with its quiv'ring tail the yellow sand.
MONDINGO now, who e'er the golden light,
Rushed first, all dauntless, to commence the fight;
Behind the dames and maids and youths attend,
They flank the army and the town defend ;
The mournful prince now show'd the glorious way,
Το conquer tyrants, on this signal day;
Like vivid lightning he attacks the foe,
Impell'd by grief and strengthen'd by his woe..
As on the fleecy flocks, when hunger calls,
Amidst the field a brindle lion falls,
If chance some shepherd with a distant dart
The savage wounds, he rouses at the smart,
He foams, he roars, the shepherd dare not stay,.
But trembling, leaves the scatter'd flocks a prey ;
Heaps fall on heaps, he bathes with blood the ground,
Then leaps victorious o'er the lofty mound.

Now arrows hiss and darts by heroes flung,
Swift as wild wind, thro' air sonorious sung;
Dread horror seizes ev'ry tyrant's breast,

Some flee, some trembling fight, with fears oppress'd.
So flies a herd of oxen scattered wide,

No swain to guard them, and no day to guide,
When two fierce tigers from the mountain come,
And spread the carnage thro' the shady gloom.
Heaps fall on heaps the fight MONDINGO leads,
And by his sword a lofty tyrant bleeds;

Tall EDWARDS from his native home expell'd,
From his paternal cottage, where he dwell'd;
In peace, till vanquish'd by his scolding wife,
He went to Africa, and lost his life;

How great his loss oppress'd with mighty fear,
Full in his nap MONDINGO fix'd his spear;
Swift thro' his jaws and scull the weapon glides,
Pierc'd his cold tongue, his grinning teeth divides ;
Prone on his face he falls, with fruitless cries,
And in a foreign land death seals his eyes.
Thus the fierce lion who with hunger bold,
Roams grimly round the fences of the fold,
Spies a tall goat the chief of all the train,
Or stately stag, high stalking o'er the plain;
His horrid main he rears, he runs, he flies,
Expands his jaws, and darts upon the prize;
The prize he rends with a tremendous roar,
And growling rages in a foam of gore.
Confounded and dismay'd they flee or fall,
Some seek the ships, and some for quarters call,
Some trembling fight, while others pant for breath,
And o'er the wounded stalks gigantic death.
On rush'd MONDINGO, gloomy as the night,
By deeds, not words, he animates the fight;
The tyrants now recede with sudden fear,
While clouds of arrows sing along in air.
As when a tyger rushing from his den,
Amidst the plain of some wide water'd fen,
Where num'rous oxen, as at ease they feed,

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