The Kentucky Gazette

SACRED TO THE MUSES

In days of old when heroes fought,
And cities stream'd with blood,
Poets, to better strains untaught,
Sung of the crimson flood.

Far nobler themes my muse invite
Than e'er inspir'd those sons of night
Freedom, which long had dormant lain,
While despots bore the sway,
Vouchsafes to visit man again
Reveal'd by truth's bright ray:

Hence then, ye poets, join to praise
Freedom in your immortal lays.

And first, the brave, unrival'd chief
Who did her cause maintain,
Whose works evinc'd on every leaf
Their nervous author, PAINE:

While gratitude inspire your song,
To him your warmest thanks belong.

Resplendent truth illum'd each page
A bolder champion to engage,
Falsehood had never found:
And flash'd conviction round.

Soon as the mighty work began,
All nature echo'd RIGHTS OF MAN!

Fain would the muse now take her flight
And sing Old England free,
That charming isle, where once so bright
Reign'd heaven-born Liberty—

But ah, how fallen! yet soon she'll rise
And proudly claim her native skies.