THE SKY LARK, &c, Song

For ages on ages by Tyranny bound, The Genius of Freedom in fetters was kept, Truth, reason and virtue reclining around, Nor wonder'd religion, why liberty slept. The regions of day whence that sol wheels his car, Were lost to the splendours of life giving light: And Europe herself tho' she beam'd as a star, Saw the portal of morn, oft clouded by night, At length from his chambers near Schuyl-kill's domain, Burst forth on the world, in a moment of time, The full sun of truth in the person of Paine, And instant he sir'd all the westermost clime.

The lightning that stream'd from his heav'n form'd eye, As electrical fire soon melted each chain, And blest Independence the fourth of July, On aquiline pinions swift spead o'er the main. Old Europe astonish'd was smote with dismay, Her tyrants turn'd pale as they read the decree: While myriads of men who in slavery lay, Exulting pronounc'd, "let us dare to be free." Here's a health to the morn—'tis mark'd as divine, The noblest the grandest of works is begun, And Paine in the zenith of glory shall shine, Till nature's right hand aims a blow at the sun.