Oh WASHINGTON! thou hero, patriot, sage

Oh WASHINGTON! thou hero, patriot, sage! Friend of all climes, and pride of every age! Were thine the laurels, every soil could raise, The mighty harvest were penurious praise. Well may our realms, thy Fabian wisdom boast; Thy prudence sav'd, what bravery had lost. Yet e'er hadst thou, by Heaven's severer sates, Like Sparta's hero at the Grecian straits, Been doom'd to meet, in arms, a world of foes. Whom skill could not defeat, nor walls oppose, Then had thy breast, by danger ne'er subdued, The mighty Buckler of thy country stood; Proud of its wounds, each piercing spear would bless, Which left Columbia's foes one javelin less; Nor felt one pang—but, in the glorious deed, Thy little band of heroes too, must bleed; Nor throbb'd one fear—but, that some poison'd dart Thy breast might pass, and reach thy country's heart!