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THE MOST GRACIOUS ADDRESS OF ADMIRAL Collier AND GENERAL Tryon TO THE PEOPLE OF Connecticut.-July, 1779.

What can ye hope, rebellious crew,
But vengeance dire to traitors due;
Whilst you support this insurrection,
Refusing to our king subjection?
Why so ungen’rous, so unkind?
Why to your own true int’rest blind?
‘Tis fact–and take it on our word,
If you’ll submit to George the Third,
You’ll surely find it better far
Than carrying on this bloody war:
You’ll only be of slaves a nation,
From generation to generation:
And what is that, compar’d with all
The mischiefs which may now befal,
If you unwisely still persist in
This naughty practice of resisting.

Your towns, yourselves, you can’t deny,
Within the grasp of power lie:
And that we can with greatest ease,
Clap paw upon you when we please.
That you’ve a house to put your head in,
Have pots or kettles, beds or bedding,
Is to our great forbearance owing,
And tender mercy ever flowing.
What you, presumptuous, call your own,
You only have from us on loan;
And if we ask it back again,
You know resistance would be vain.
Therefore your houses, goods, and land,
As monuments of mercy stand:
But we’re in hopes you now begin
To see, and soon will own your sin:
The very continent we’re told
Begins to blush, tho’ late so bold;
Conscious of many heinous crimes,
And therefore would repent by times.
And you, who thus at mercy lie,
Should first to our protection fly:
And save yourselves from fell perdition,
The sure reward of black sedition.
Would you submit, ‘twould be a sample
For others-and the good example
Might draw in many worthy folks
To poke their necks into our yokes;
And so become–oh! blessed thing,
The slaves of our most gracious king.

And now we think it not amiss
To leave you to reflect on this:

And do most graciously declare,
That we will all those culprits spare,
Who stay at home in peace and quiet,
Disclaiming this unnat’ral riot;
We’ll spare their dwellings–and what more is,
Be kind as Howe to Jersey tories:
Yet rebels of the military,
Must still remain in sad quandary;
And those who fill departments civil,
Will sure go headlong to the devil;
Unless they will their follies own,
And pardon ask on marrow-bone.

But do not think, because we’re kind,
We may be always of one mind;
And that our goodness has no end,
Because as yet we’ve been your friend:
Should you perversely still proceed,
We shall be very wroth indeed;
And when we’re angry–you know what–
Connecticut must go to pot.
Too late you’ll find yourselves mistaken,
And not a man will save his bacon:
Therefore beware-you may rely on
The words of Collier and of Tryon.