The following lines, the author of which is unknown,
express the feelings of the native Vermonter during
that trying period:
History of Vermont Poem
Ho--all to the borders! Vermonters come down,
With your breeches of deer skin, and jackets of brown;
With your red woolen caps, and your moccasins, come
To the gathering summons of trumpet and drum!
Come down with your rifles! let gray wolves and fox
Howl on in the shade of their primitive rocks;
Let the bear feed securely from pig-pen and stall;
Here's a two legged game for your powder and ball!
On our south come the Dutchman, enveloped in grease;
And, arming for battle, while canting of peace;
On our east, crafty Meshech has gathered his band,
To hang up our leaders, and eat out our land.
Ho-all to the rescue! For Satan shall work
No gain for his legions of Hampshire and York!
They claim our possessions - the pitiful knaves-
The tribute we pay, shall be prisons and graves!
Let Clinton and Ten Broek, with bribes in their hands,
Still seek to divide us, and parcel our lands;-
We've coats for our traitors, whoever they are;
The wrap is of feather-the filling of tar!
Does the "Old Bay State" threaten? Does Congress complain?
Swarms Hampshire in arms on our borders again?
Bark the war-dogs of Britain aloud on the lake?
Let 'em come! what they can they are welcome to take.
Yet we owe no allegiance; we bow to no throne;
Our ruler is law, and the law is our own;
Our leaders themselves are our own fellowmen,
Who can handle the sword, or the scythe, or the pen.
Our wives are all true, and our daughters are fair,
With their blue eyes of smiles, and their light flowing hair;
All brisk at their wheels till the dark evening -fall,
Then blithe at the sleigh ride, the husking and the ball!
We've sheep on the hill-sides: we've cows on the plain;
And gay-tassled cornfields, and rank-growing grain;
There are deer on the mountains; and wood-pidgeons fly
from the cracks of our muskets, like clouds in the sky.
And there's fish in our streamlets and rivers, which take
their course from the hills to our broad-bosomed lake;
Through rock-arched Winooski the salmon leaps free,
And the portly shad follows all fresh from the sea.
Like a sunbeam the pickerel glides through his pool
and the spotted trout sleeps where the waters cool,
or darts from his shelter of rock and of root
At the beaver's quick plunge, or the angler's pursuit.
And ours are the mountains, which loftly rise
Till they rest their green heads on the blue of the skies;
And ours are the forest, unwasted, unshorn,
Save where the wild path of the tempest is torn.
And though savage and wild be this climate of ours;
And brief be our season of fruits and of flowers,
Far dearer the blast round our mountains which raves,
Than the sweet summer zephyr, which breathes over slaves.
Hurrah for VERMONT! for the land which we till
Must have sons to defend her from valley and hill;
Leave the harvest to rot on the field where it grows,
And the reaping of wheat for the reaping of foes.
Far from Michiscoui's valley, to where
Poosoomsuck steals down from his wood-circled lair,
From Shocticook river and Lutterlock town,-
Ho--all to the
rescue! Vermonters, come down!
Come York or come Hampshire-- come traitors and knaves;
If ye rule o'er our land, ye shall rule o'er our graves;
Our vow is recorded--our banner unfurled;
In the name of VERMONT we defy all the World!
Source:
Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Heroes of '76
Henry W. De Puy Buffolo 1853
http://www.champquest.com/vthist/vermont.htm