(Written in her fourteenth year.)

There shone a gem on England's crown,
Bright as yon star;
Oppression marked it with a frown,
He sent his darkest spirit down,
To quench the light that round it shone,
Blazing afar.
But Independence met the foe,
And laid the swift-winged demon low.

A second messenger was sent,
Dark as the night;
On his dire errand swift he went,
But Valour's bow was truly bent,
Justice her keenest arrow lent,
And sped its flight;
Then fell the impious wretch, and Death
Approached, to take his withering breath.

Valour then took, with hasty hand,
The gem of light;
He flew to seek some other land,
He flew to'scape oppression's hand,
He knew there was some other strand,
More bright;
And as he swept the fields of air,
He found a country, rich and fair.

Upon its breast the star he placed,
The star of liberty;
Bright, and more bright the meteor blazed,
The lesser planets stood amazed,
Astonished mortals, wondering, gazed,
Looking on fearfully.
That star shines brightly to this day,
On thy calm breast, America!