| |
| FREEDOM’S sons, awake to glory; | |
| Bid Columbia’s eagle soar! | |
| Once our deeds have rung in story; | |
| Burns the patriot flame no more? | |
| |
| Shall that arm which haughty Britain | 5 |
| In its gristle found too strong: | |
| That, by which her hosts were smitten, | |
| Shall that arm be palsied long? | |
| |
| See our sons of ocean kneeling | |
| To a tyrant’s stripes and chains! | 10 |
| Partisan! hast thou no feeling, | |
| When the hardy tar complains? | |
| |
| See the British press-gang seize him, | |
| Victim of relentless power! | |
| Stout his heart is, but must fail him | 15 |
| In this evil, trying hour! | |
| |
| Wife and children did enfold him, | |
| Ere he launch’d upon the deep: | |
| These shall ne’er again behold him; | |
| These are left alone to weep. | 20 |
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| Dragg’d on board his prison-dwelling— | |
| Snapp’d the cord of tender ties! | |
| While his manly heart is swelling, | |
| To the winds he gives his sighs. | |
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| Sons of Freedom! rise and save him; | 25 |
| Snatch him from the tyrant’s power; | |
| And thy country then shall have him, | |
| Friend in peril’s darkest hour. | |
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