| |
| LAND of bards and heroes, hail! | |
| Land of gods and godlike men, | |
| Thine were hearts that could not quail,— | |
| Earth was glorious then; | |
| Thine were souls that dared be free; | 5 |
| Power, and fame, and liberty. | |
| |
| In thy best and brightest hour, | |
| Thou wert like the sun in heaven; | |
| Like the bow that spans the shower, | |
| Thou to earth wert given: | 10 |
| Nations turned to thee and prayed | |
| Thou wouldst fold them in thy shade. | |
| |
| Like the infant Hercules, | |
| Thou didst spring at once to power, | |
| With the energy that frees | 15 |
| Millions in an hour: | |
| From the wave, the rock, the glen, | |
| Freedom called her chosen then. | |
| |
| What though thousands fought with one, | |
| Did thy sons draw back in fear? | 20 |
| No,—with Ægis like a sun, | |
| Pallas hovered near: | |
| Wisdom with her diamond shield | |
| Guarded well the fatal field. | |
| |
| Fair and bright her temple shone, | 25 |
| Meet for such divine abode; | |
| There in majesty alone, | |
| Loftily she trode: | |
| Time in vain his bolt has hurled; | |
| Still it stands, to awe the world. | 30 |
| |
| Thine were all that rouse the spirit | |
| From its dim and deathly dreams: | |
| O, shall man again inherit | |
| Such undying beams? | |
| Lend thy kindling breath awhile; | 35 |
| Earth shall then in glory smile. | |
| |
| Land where every vale and mountain | |
| Echoes to immortal strains, | |
| Light is round the stream and fountain, | |
| Light on all thy plains. | 40 |
| Never shall thy glory set; | |
| Thou shalt be our beacon yet. | |
| |
| Yes,—for now thy sons are calling | |
| To the tombs that hold their sires,— | |
| One by one their chains are falling,— | 45 |
| They have lit their fires; | |
| See! from peak to peak they run, | |
| Bearing Freedom’s signal on. | |
| |
| On, from peak to peak, they rush; | |
| Wide and far the glory flows; | 50 |
| Streams of light unearthly gush | |
| From their crown of snows. | |
| Hear ye not the warning call? | |
| “Shall a nation rise and fall?” | |
| |
| No! forbid it, gracious Heaven! | 55 |
| Though a world look coldly on; | |
| Be the unyielding spirit given,— | |
| Be the battle won; | |
| Or if hope desert the brave, | |
| Be their land their common grave! | 60 |
| |
| If they lose the glorious prize, | |
| Be thy rocks a nation’s tomb,— | |
| Man shall sink, no more to rise, | |
| If they meet that doom! | |
| Come, ye slaves! and read, and fear,— | 65 |
| Freedom’s last, best hope is here! | |
| |
