The Virginia Gazette

A merry song, to the plaintive tune of Hosier's Ghost.

Near beauteous Boston lying,
On the gently swelling flood,
Without jack or pendant flying,
Three ill-fated tea ships rode.

Just as glorious Sol was setting,
On the wharf a numerous crew,
Sons of freedom, fear forgetting,
Suddenly appeared in view.

Armed with hammer, axe, and chisel,
Weapons new for warlike deed,
Toward the herbage-freighted vessels
They approached with dreadful speed.

O'er their heads, aloft in mid sky,
Three bright angel forms were seen:
Thus was Hampden, that was Sidney,
With true liberty between.

"Soon, they cried, your foes you'll banish,
Soon the triumph shall be won;
Scarce had setting Phoebus vanished,
Ere the deathless deed was done."

Quick a thought the ships were boarded,
Hatches burst, and chests displayed;
Axes, hammers, help afforded;
What a glorious crash they made!

Squash into the deep descended,
Cursed weed of China's coast;
Thus at once our fears were ended,
British rights shall ne'er be lost.

Captains! once more hoist your streamers,
Spread your sails, and plow the wave!
Tell your masters they were dreamers,
When they thought to cheat the brave.