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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

The Congress

By Revolutionary Songs and Ballads

[Tory Song, to the tune of “Nancy Dawson.” Printed in Towne’s Evening Post. 1776.]

YE Tories all rejoice and sing

Success to George our gracious king;

The faithful subjects tribute bring

And execrate the Congress.

These hardy knaves and stupid fools,

Some apish and pragmatic mules,

Some servile acquiescing tools,—

These, these compose the Congress.

When Jove resolved to send a curse,

And all the woes of life rehearse,—

Not plague, not famine, but much worse,—

He cursed us with a Congress.

Then peace forsook this hapless shore;

Then cannons blazed with horrid roar;

We hear of blood, death, wounds and gore,

The offspring of the Congress.

Imperial Rome from scoundrels rose;

Her grandeur’s hailed in verse and prose;

Venice the dregs of sea compose;

So sprung the mighty Congress.

When insects vile emerge to light

They take their short inglorious flight,

Then sink again to native night:

An emblem of the Congress.

With freemen’s rights they wanton play;

At their command, we fast and pray;

With worthless paper they us pay;

A fine device of Congress.

With poverty and dire distress,

With standing armies us oppress;

Whole troops to Pluto swiftly press,

As victims to the Congress.

Time-serving priests to zealots preach,

Who king and parliament impeach;

Seditious lessons to us teach

At the command of Congress.


The world’s amazed to see the pest

The tranquil land with wars infest;

Britannia puts them to the test,

And tries the strength of Congress.

O goddess, hear our hearty prayers!

Confound the villains by the ears;

Disperse the plebeians—try the peers,

And execute the Congress.

See, see, our hope begins to dawn;

Bold Carleton scours the northern lawn;

The sons of faction sigh forlorn;

Dejected is the Congress.

Clinton, Burgoyne, and gallant Howe,

Will soon reward our conduct true,

And to each traitor give his due;

Perdition waits the Congress.

See noble Dunmore keeps his post;

Maraudes and ravages the coast;

Despises Lee and all his host,

That hair-brain tool of Congress.

There’s Washington and all his men—

Where Howe had one, the goose had ten—

Marched up the hill, and down again,

And sent returns to Congress.

Prepare, prepare, my friends prepare,

For scenes of blood, the field of war;

To royal standard we’ll repair,

And curse the haughty Congress.

Huzza! Huzza! we thrice huzza!

Return peace, harmony, and law!

Restore such times as once we saw

And bid adieu to Congress.