Who died at New-York, on the 8th of June, 1809
Princes and kings decay and die
And, instant, rise again:
But this is not the case, trust me,
With men like Thomas Paine.
In vain the democratic host
His equal would attain:
For years to come they will not boast
A second Thomas Paine.
Though many may his name assume;
Assumption is in vain;
For every man has not his plume—
Whose name is Thomas Paine.
Though heaven bestow'd on all its sons
Their proper share of brain,
It gives to few, ye simple ones,
The mind of Thomas Paine.
To tyrants and the tyrant crew,
Indeed, he was the bane;
He writ, and gave them all their due,
And signed it,—Thomas Paine.
Oh! how we loved to see him write
And curb the race of Cain!
They hope and wish that Thomas P——
May never rise again.
What idle hopes!—yes—such a man
May yet appear again.—
When they are dead, they die for aye:
—Not so with Thomas Paine.