William Maxwell

YE seamen of Columbia!

Now claim your native sea;

Break off Britannia’s galling chain,

And set the billows free.

The spirit of your country calls,

And points where ocean rolls:

Ye shall reign o’er the main,

While the angry surges roar;

Till the sun sets never to rise again,

And the moon looks out no more.

’Twas o’er the waves of ocean,

Our gallant fathers came;

Their spirits braved the raging blasts

And made the billows tame.

Sail boldly in their shining wake,

Beneath heaven’s guiding star.
Ye shall reign, &c.

Our valiant tars fear nothing:

Cradled in wars and storms,

They smile at images of death

In all their ghastly forms;

Now playing with the spouting whale,

Now managing the foe.
Ye shall reign, &c.

Columbia’s daring eagle,

Still soaring to the sky,

Shall launch her thunders o’er the sea,

And bid her lightnings fly.

Her foes shall shrink in wild dismay,

And hide beneath the waves.
Ye shall reign, &c.