The Rhode Island Republican

Poetry.

The following elegant and patriotic Song, written by Mr. WILLIAM C. FOSTEN, was sung by 200 Ladies, and as many Gentlemen, at the late celebration of the Tammany Society, in the Village of Troy.

A NEW SONG.

Tune—'INDIAN CHIEF.'

When dark superstition sunk Europe in night,
And the mandates of tyrants put Freedom to flight;
COLUMBUS, undaunted, his canvass unfurl'd,
To find her a home in this far Western World.

Our titular saint met the sage on the strand;
And welcom'd him safe to the fair promis'd land.
The Great Council Fire was trim'd on the shore,
Where our Chiefs by the God of their fore-fathers swore,
That no tyrant our race e'er in fetters should bind,
Nor banish from hence the just rights of mankind :
That these shores ever sacred to Freedom should be,
And the mountains re-echo'd the solemn decree.

To commemorate this, we together have met,
The glorious discovery we'll now celebrate ;
And chaunt songs of praise to our Chiefs who 're no more,
Who fought for the freedom and rights of our shore:
Who seal'd with their blood the eternal decree,
That COLUMBIA's brave sons should forever live free.

When our rights were infring'd by the despots afar,
We indignantly flourish'd the hatchet of war;
From bosom to bosom expanded the flame,
And our nation, a nation of warriors became :
For they'd sworn to maintain the eternal decree,
That COLUMBIA's brave sons should forever live free.

Then Patriot virtue our Councils inspir'd,
With the cause of their country our heroes were fir'd.
Our foes were led captive or driven afar,
For the God of AMERICA was with us in war.
He smil'd on the Patriot—he frown'd on the slave,
And deck'd with rich laurels the brows of the brave.

The bones of our heroes still whiten the plains,
But faithful in story their glory remains,
And their spirit descending shall fire the brave
To cherish the prize which their ancestors gave—
Who for an asylum this wilderness chose,
And caus'd the rude forest to bloom, as the rose
Here, far from all foreign contentions and broils,
Peace strews the green olive and harmony smiles;
Here Plenty extends her all-bountiful hand,
And the bright star of Science shines over the land
Thus may our Republick be prosper'd thro' time,
The most happy nation—the most favour'd clime.

The flame of our altars has shone o'er the sea,
And the tyrants are marshall'd lest man becomes free :
But their day star's declining—their thrones shall be hurl'd.
And the spirit of Freedom awaken the world.
From the shores of the west the dread thunder has roll'd,
And the light of the New World has spread thro' the OLD.