THE AMERICAN FLAG.
WHEN Freedom from her mountain height, Unfurl'd her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; She mingled with the gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure celestial white, With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle-bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
Majestic monarch of the cloud,
Who rearest aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest trumping loud, And see the lightning lances driven,
When stride the warriors of the storm And rolls the thunder drums of heaven, Child of the sun, to thee 'tis given,
To guard the banner of the free To hover in the sulpher smoke, To ward away the battle stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbinger of victory.
Flag of the brave, thy folds shall fly, The sign of hope and triumph, high. When speaks the signal trumpet-tone, And the long line comes gleaming on, (Ere yet the life blood warm and wet, Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn To where thy meteor-glories burn, And, as his springing steps advance
Catch war and vengeance from the glance! And when the cannon-mouthings loud Heave, in wild wreathes, the battle shroud, And gory sabres rise and fall,
Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall! There shall thy victor glances glow, And cowering foes shall sink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. Flag of the seas, on ocean's wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave, When death careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frightened waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, The dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly, In triumph, o'er his closing eye.
Flag of the free heart's only home, By angel hands to valor given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes the foe, but falls before us,
With freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
"OLD IRONSIDES.'
Ay! pull her tattered ensign down, Long has it wav'd on high, And many a heart has danc'd to see That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon's roar
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more.
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquish'd foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the conqueror's tread, Or know the conquered knee; The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
Oh better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thunders shook the mighty deep And there should be her grave. Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms- The lightning and the gale!
COLUMBIA'S GREAT GLORY.
HALLOW'D the birth-day of liberty's nation, Sacred the flame on her altar that burns, A tear to the chieftain who wrought her salvation, And flowers to the grave that his body inumas; He who from darkest night,
Led us to glory's light,
Remaining before us our guidance and star Rid every troubled sea,
Champion of peace in the ravage of war.
Hail to the name of Columbia's great hero, Which brighter shines forth thro' the vista of years Whilst on history's page stands the contrast of Nero, The king of oppression, and father of tears.
Then raise the sacred strain, Let echo mock again;
Washington rise on each patriot's voice, Till all Columbia round,
Swell with the joyous sound,
And hill and vale in the anthem rejoice.
COLUMBIAN INDEPENDENCE.
WAKE, Columbia! wake the lyre, Touch the silver chords with fire; Bid the holy flames arise, Mounting swiftly to the skies; Music sweet, and music strong. Rouse the soul with lyric song. Goddess of this western clime, Tune thy notes to joys sublime! Rapt in glory's brightest blaze, Gallant heroes proudly raise Shouts of triumph, sounding far, Louder than the storm of war:
Godlike courage won the day- Baffled Britain lost her sway; Ghastly stood her trembling king- Quick he felt the dreadful sting, When Columbia's sons had sworn, 'Death!-or, lo! a nation's born!" Born a nation stood sublime, Virtue's proof-the test of time, England's vassals now return, Help their weeping nation mourn! Tyranny had fled our coast;
Gain'd one world a world was lost.
LIBERTY TREE.—By T. Paine.
In a chariot of light from the regions of day, The goddess of Liberty came;
Ten thousand celestials directed the way, And hither conducted the damne.
A fair budding branch from the gardens above, Where millions with millions agree,
She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love, And the plant she nam'd Liberty Tree.
The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground, Like a native it flourish'd and bore; The fame of its fruit drew the nations around, To seek out its peaceable shore.
Unmindful of names, or distinctions, they came, For freemen like brothers agree;
With one spirit endued, they one friendship pursued, And their temple was Liberty Tree.
Beneath this fair tree, like the patriarchs of old, Their bread in contentment they ate, Unvex'd with the troubles of silver and gold, The cares of the grand and the great; With timber and tar they old England supplied, And supported her power on the sea;
Her battles they fought without getting a groat, For the honor of Liberty Tree.
But hear, O ye swains, ('tis a tale most profane) How all the tyrannical powers,
Kings, Commons, and Lords are uniting amain, To cut down this guardian of ours:
From the east to the west blow the trumpet to arms Thro' the land let the sound of it flee;
Let the far and the near all unite with a cheer, In defence of our Liberty Tree.
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