While horrid fires her HOLY DOMES illum'd, Whofe blazing fpires fell thundering to the ground, Gilding the gloomy boforn of old Night, Then from the deadly prifon's walls arife, Of Hunger fierce, the agonizing cries, Filling the liftening foul with wild affright ! But now the " crimfon toils" of War are o'er, Her dreadful clamourings meet the ear no morej The grafly paftures, lately dy'd with blood, Now on their bofoms hold fome dimpling flood; And the raz'd buildings, whofe high poliih'd ftones Sunk difregarded 'mongft half mouldering bones, From their own afhes, phoenix like, arife, And grandly lift their turrets tow'rd the fides: The bufy bands of Commerce croud her ports ; Full in her harbours fwells the fnowy fail, The fpringing breeze, the dancing ftreamer courts, And the deep veflel bows before the gale; While from fair Na/au's ifle,* or Jerfey^ fliore, The Jab 'ring peafant turns his heavy oar; His broad boat laden with inviting fruits, Delicious wild fowl, with falubrious roots, And tafteful pulfe ; or elfe he draws the car, Fill'd with the tenants of the briny fea, Or fedgy creek, or wood-edg'd riiier fair, And hies him to this bufy mart with glee: Where
- Commonly called Long-Ifland.
