THE REFUGEES’ PETITION TO SIR GUY CARLETON

That your Honour's petitioners,Tories by trade,

From the first of the war have lent Britain their aid,

And done all they could, both in country and town,

In support of the king and the rights of his crown;

But now, to their grief and confusion, they find

“The de'il may take them who are farthest behind.”

In the rear of all rascals they still have been placed

And Rebels and Frenchmenfull often have faced,

Have been in the midst of distresses and doubt

Whene'er they came in or whene'er they went out;

Have supported the king and defended his church

And now, in the end, must be left in the lurch.

Though often, too often, his arms were disgraced,

We still were in hopes he would conquer at last,

And restore us again to our sweethearts and wives

The pride of our hearts and the joy of our lives —

But he promised too far, and we trusted too much,

And who could have looked for a war with the Dutch?

Our board broken up, and discharged from our stations,

Sir Guy! it is cruel to cut off our rations;

Of a project like that, whoe'er was the mover,

It is, we must tell you, a hellish manoeuvre,

A plan to destroy us — the basest of tricks

By means of starvation, a stigma to fix.

If a peace be intended, as people surmise,

( Though we hope from our souls these are nothing but lies )

Inform us at once what we have to expect,

Nor treat us, as usual, with surly neglect;

Or else, while you Britons are shipping your freights

We'll go to the Rebels, and get our estates.