WHEN morning first blush'd illum'd in the east, I haste to my daily employment; I grub all the day, while the well-born can feast, Tho' they can afford the enjoyment. Our rulers can feast on six dollars per day, The poor must be taxed their extortion to pay; And if we do against them any thing say, They will trump a bill of sedition.

When Britain first levied a duty on tea, I thought it no very great matter; But those who into a mill-stone could see, Opposed it with wonderous clatter. They told me, that I for my country must fight, Or Britain would strip us of freedom and right; And even our clergy do take a delight, In sowing the seed of sedition.

They fir'd me with courage, I flew to the field, And joined with my musket the army; Determining to perish before I did yield, The wrongs of my country warn'd me. At the walls of Quebeck I bled in the war, Portsmouth and Yorktown, each left me a scar, And now if our rulers, I say act unfair, In Jail I must lie for sedition.

When peace the green olive spread o'er the plain, Our armies began their disbanding; The array I view'd as the end of my pain, My heart fill'd with joy was expanding. But soon I discovered my fate so severe, And for my long service no cash did appear; But with a furlow-homeward I must steer, For there was no time for sedition.

A paper they gave me where on was express'd, Very fairly the sum that they ow'd me; My children fell sick, and my wife was distress'd, No money, a farthing, they bestowed me.

Distresses too keen, to admit of delay, Compell'd me to sell of my certify'd pay; At two pence per shilling, but frankly I say, I had not a thought of sedition.

Our firm Constitution, our pride and our boast, Being left at the people's election; The adopters I gain'd with the thought of a post, I viewed it the pink of protection. Then judge my intent when Congress had sat, Our rulers had fund'd our national debt, By robbing the soldiers of what they could get, I then was afraid of sedition.

Oft' times have I tho't with a sigh at my heart, What a fool was the poor man for fighting; If tyrants will quarrel must we take their part, In murder and carnage delighting. But they will discover before it be long, While they are fighting, they fight for a song; Our knaves they quarrel and make themselves strong, By the help of a bill of sedition.

The bill of sedition, and alien law, Are aim'd at the vitals of freedom; Contriv'd by a party, the people at awe The good of our States did not need them. But it is in our blessed constitution declar'd, From printing our thoughts, we should not be debar'd Nor the freedom of speech should remain unimprov'd, Now what do you think of sedition.

The free men assemble at liberty's call, And to Congress send a petition; That the law, called Alien to nothing may fall, And also the bill of sedition. That federal extravagance shortly may cease, Our Naval expenses may never increase, Nor no standing army be suffer'd in peace, To stir up a war of sedition.

SONGS (by the Gross, Dozen, or Single) constantly for Sale by Nathaniel Coverly, jun. corner of Theatre-alley, Milk-street, Boston, 1811.