Let the song of the ransom'd remember the dead,
And the tongue of the eloquent hallow the story.

O'er the bones of the bold,

Be that story long told, And on Fame's golden tablets their triumphs enroll’d, Who on freedom's green hills, freedom's banner un

furl’d, And the beacon-fire rais'd that gave light to the world. 'Twas for us and our children, to conquer or die, Undaunted they stood, where the war-storm burst

o'er them; Each blade drew a thunderbolt down from the sky, Till the foeman turn'd pale, and was wither'd before them.

Then from Liberty's band,

Went a shout thro' the land, As the rainbow of peace their fair heritage spann'd; Where the banner of freedom in pride was unfurl'd, And the beacon-fire rose that gave light to the world. Shey are gone-mighty men! and they sleep in their

fame; Shall we ever forget them? Oh, never! no, never! Let our sons learn from us to embalm each great name,

And the anthem send down—" Independence for

ever."

Wake, wake, heart and tongue!

Keep the theme ever young — Let their deeds thro' the long line of ages be sung, When on freedom's green hills freedom's banner un

furl'd, And the beacon-fire rais'd that gave light to the world.

MARSEILLES HYMN OF LIBERTY.
Y e sons of Freedom, wake to glory,

Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise!.

Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,

Behold their tears and hear their cries. Shall hateful tyrants, mischiefs breeding,

With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,

Affright and desolate the land, While peace and liberty lie bleeding?

To arms! to arms! ye brave!

Th' avenging sword unsheath;
March on, march on, all hearts resolv'd,

Dn victory or death.
Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling,

Which treacherous kings confederate raise, The dogs of war, let loose, are howling,

And lo! our fields and cities blaze., And shall we basely view the ruin,

While lawless force with guilty stride,

Spreads desolation far and wide,
With crimes and blood his hands embruing.

To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.
With luxury and pride surrounded,

The vile insatiate despots dare, Their thirst of power and gold unbounded, ^

To mete and vend the light and air. Like beasts of burden would they lɔad us,

Like gods would bid their slaves adore,

But man is man, and who is more?
Then shall they longer lash and goad us?

To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.
Oh, Liberty, can man resign thee,

Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons, bolts and bars confine thee

Or whips thy noble spirit tame?
Too long the world has wept, bewailing

That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield,
But freedom is our sword and shield,
And all their arts are unavailing.

To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

DAY OF GLORY.

Arr—" Seots wha hae.” Day of glory, welcome day! Freedom's banners greet thy ray, See, how cheerfully they play,

With the morning breeze.
On the rocks where pilgrims kneelid,
On the heights where squadrons wheeld
When a tyrant's thunder peal'd

O’er the trembling sea.
God of armies! did thy stars
In their courses' smite his cars,
Blast his arm, and wrest his bars

From the heaving tide?
On our standard, lo! they burn,
And, when days like this return,
Sparkle o'er the soldier's urn,

Who for freedom died.
God of peace! whose spirit fills
All the echoes of our hills,
All the murmurs of our rills,

Now the storm is o'er;
0, let freemen be our sons;
And let future Washingtons
Rise, to lead their valiant ones,

Till there's war no more.
By the patriot's hallowed rest,
By the warrior's gory breast,
Never let our graves be press'd

By a despot's throne:
By the pilgrim's toils and cares,
By their battles and their prayers,
By their ashes,-let our heirs

Bow to thee alone.

MARCH TO THE BATTLE FIELD.

Air—“ Oft in the stilly night. MARCH to the battle field,

The foe is now before us; Each heart is freedom's shield, And heav'n is smiling o'er us,

The woes and pains,

The galling chains, *That keep our spirits under,

In proud disdain,

We've brok'n again, And tore each link assunder.

March to the, &c. .' Who, for his country brave,

Would fly from her invader?
Who, his base life to save,
Would, traitor-like, degrade her?
Our hallowed cause,

Our home and laws,
'Gainst tyrant power sustaining,

We'll gain a crown

Of bright renown,
Or die-our rights maintaining!

March to the, &c.

marina
BATTLE SONG.
Tune—“ Bruce's Address."
HARK! the deep’ning voice of war,
Hoarsely echoes from afar,
Forward! and your weapons draw,

Sons of Liberty!
Let your banners wave in air
Let your light’nings fiercely glare!

Freely ev'ry danger share

For your Liberty!
Freedom! glorious, fair and bright!
"Tis for her you dare the fight;
Guard her with a giant might!

Sons of Liberty!
Never let the word be said,
That in time of battle dread,
Columbia's sons from danger fled, 4

No! it shall not be!
Where the death-storm thickest rains!
Where the earth shows reddest stains!
There the Eagle still remains!

Never turns to flee!
See the foes now yield the ground!
Their bravest lie in death around;
Let the trumpet's joyful sound,

Shout for victory!

WE NEVER WILL BE SLAVES.

AIR-" The gallant Troubadour."
FROM birth my native land I've owned

As liberty's blest shore;
In every heart she sits enthroned,

And stands at every door.
Then shall we lose our chartered right

Through base and sordid knaves?
No, while we've hearts and hands to fight,

We never will be slaves.
Columbia's sons, with freedom born,

Ne'er heed a foreign foe;
Our fertile fields are gilt with corn,

And shall we lose them. No!