CREEK SONG OF VICTORY.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
The rcd day Of slaughter is done,
The rose tint is pale in the west;
The triumph of Liberty won,
Joy swels each Athenian breast;
We have buried our foes in the wave.
That rolls on the iron-bonnd shore,
And the foot OF the Ottoman slave,
Shall dare scale our ramparts no more;
They came in their pride and their pomp to the


fight,
But have scattcr'd, like DUST in the rush OF our


might.
They came with the dawning of day
Fhc sun brightly glanced on their sails,
And their Acct, on its conquerins way,
Bore forward with fivouring gales;
Like dark cloud of tempest they came
Nready they uttered their yell,
When we let loose our arrows OF flame,
And the pride fthc Musselmcn fell,
Then the wave with the fire and the slaughter


was red,
Andour pruws hurried on through the dying and


dead.
They arc gonc-and the sea rolls again
In peace Oh otlr iron-bound shore;
They have left but the wreck, and the stain,
Where the green wave heav'd purple with gore
As the last light grows dim in the west,
y God of the brave and the free!
How the fulness that swclls in each breast,
is poured forth in blessings to thee,
For we trusted in thee; and the arm of thy might
Has scattered our foes in the pcrilous fight