Verse > Anthologies > William McCarty, ed. > The American National Song Book
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CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
William McCarty, comp.  The American National Song Book.  1842.
 
New Hail Columbia
 
“LO! I quit my native skies—
To arms! my patriot sons, arise,
  Guard your freedom, rights and fame;
  Guard your freedom, rights and fame;
Preserve the clime your fathers gave;        5
Heaven’s sacred boon from villains save—
  Let such daring impious foes
  Your grandeur in oblivion close—
Your virtue, wisdom, worth decline,
And gasp, convulsed at Freedom’s shrine.        10
    Rise! my sons, to arms arise!
    Guard your Heaven-descended prize:
    Prove to Europe and to me—
    Columbia’s sons are brave and free.”
 
We hear, bless’d shade, your warning voice;        15
Approve your call—pursue your choice—
  With hearts united, firm, and free,
  With hearts united, firm, and free,
The sacred boon your valour won
Shall wake to arms each patriot son:        20
  And, glowing with the glorious cause,
  Of freedom, country, rights, and laws—
The storm of worlds our arms will brave,
Or sink with freedom to the grave.
    Peaceful seek your native skies—        25
    Lo! to arms your sons arise!
    Firm and fix’d our foes to brave,
    Till Heaven’s trump shall burst the grave.
 
“Worthy sons of glorious sires!”
Behold, the warning shade retires;        30
  Pleased your martial fame to spread—
  Pleased your martial fame to spread—
Where immortal patriots stand,
Watching Freedom’s favourite land;
  Charm’d to hear such deeds of fame,        35
  In holy choir they’ll breathe your name,
Till ancient heroes catch the sound,
And thus the heavens with joy rebound—
    “Happy nation! brave and free;
    Friends to man and Liberty—        40
    Long enjoy the sacred boon,
    Which immortal valour won.”
 
Illustrious shade, to thee we swear,
To Freedom’s altar we’ll repair;
  And, like a band of Spartans brave,        45
  And, like a band of Spartans brave,
To Pluto’s realm each foe convey—
Ere lawless tyrants bear the sway—
  Till Freedom’s banner is unfurl’d,
  And waves around the darken’d world;        50
Till, from the centre to each pole,
In rapturous sounds shall constant roll:
    “Hail! sweet Freedom, gift divine;
    Lo! we bend before thy shrine.
    Firmly fix’d on this decree,        55
    To follow death or Liberty.”
 
 
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