In England's proud days no long hair was feen,
Unless on the heads of bafe fcoundrels I ween,
The Ariftocrats then to freedom fworn foes,
To bind us in chains, with a tyrant arose.

To repel the vile flaves and our rights to maintain,
Up fprung the brave crops and fubdued them amain.
The tyrant himself they caught tho' he fled;
And to end all his schemes they cropt off his head.

Britons off with your hair, and you are sure to prevail,
For a crop ftrikes with terror, a flave with a tail,
When your ancestors wore fhort hair on their head,
They valiantly fought, and they nobly bled.
For Equality's laws, and the freedom of man,
Can you ever fubmit to betraying their plan,
Then follow their steps, and no longer be fops,
Your Hampdens, your Miltons, your Sydneys were crops.

THE PHILANTHROPIST.

MONDAY, JANUARY 25.

LONDON:

Printed for and fold by DANIEL ISAAC EATON, Printer and Bookfeller to the Supreme Majefty of the People, at the COCK AND SWINE, No. 74, Newgate-ftreets

1796.

PRICE ONE PENNY.

A SON G.

Sung by Mr. Meredith at Liverpool, on the Anniversary of

O'ER

the French Revolution.

'ER the vine-cover'd hills and gay regions of France, See the day-ftar of Liberty rife;

O'er the clouds of detraction ynwearied advance,

And hold its new courfe through the fkies.

An effulgence fo mild, with a luftre fo bright,

All Europe with wonder furveys;

And from deferts of darkness, and dungeons of night,
Contends for a fhare of the blaze.

Let Burke, like a bat, from its Iplendour retire,
A fplendour too ftrong for his eyes;

Let pedants and fools his effufions admire,
Intrapt in his cobwebs like flies.

Shall

( 2 )

Shall phrenzy and sophistry hope to prevail,
'Where reafon oppofes her weight;

When the welfare of millions is hung on the scale,
And the balance yet trembles with fate?

Ah! who midft the horrors of night would abide,
That can taste the pure breezes of morn;

Or who that has drank of the chrystaline tide,
To the feculent flood would return?

When the bofom of beauty the throbbing heart meets,
Ah, who can the transport decline?
Or who that has tafted of Liberty's sweets,
The prize but with life would refign?

-But 'tis over-high Heaven the decifion
Oppreffion has struggled in vain ;

approves,

To the hell fhe has form'd Superstition removes,
And Tyranny bites his own chain.

In the records of time a new æra unfolds,

All nature exults in its birth

His creation benign the Creator beholds,
And gives a new charter to earth.

O catch its high import, ye winds as ye blow, roll!

O bear it ye waves as ye

From regions that feel the sun's vertical glow,
To the fartheft extremes of the pole.
Equal rights-equal laws-to the nations around,
Peace and friendship its precepts impart,

And wherever the footsteps of man shall be found,
May he bind the decree on his heart.