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Birth-day song of liberty

A paean of glory for the heroes of freedom
Chivers, T. H. (1809-1858)

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BIRTH-DAY SONG OF LIBERTY.
  
PREFACE.
 1. 
I.
 2. 
II.
 3. 
III.
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IV.
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V.
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VI.
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VII.
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VIII.
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IX.
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X.
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XI.
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XII.
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XIII.
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XIV.
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XV.
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XVI.
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XVII.
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XVIII.
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XIX.
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XX.
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XXI.
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XXII.
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XXIII.
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XXIV.
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XXV.
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XXVI.
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XXVII.
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XXVIII.
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XXIX.

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XI.

With their coronels of Cypress, fresh crowned, sadly weeping,
The Muses now kneel at his grave where he lies,
Wailing Requiems divine just to wake him from sleeping—
Only lulling him deeper to sleep with their cries!
See! the train-bands of Angels from Heaven down descending
Through the wide-opened Gates on their gold hinges hung!
Clouds of Glory around them—bright Seraphs attending
Singing songs such before Angel's lips never sung!
Break your Trumpets Marine, all you sweet blowing Tritons!
By the which you yon Dolphins once penned in the sea;
Hang your harps on the Willows, ye Minstrels of Britian!
And mourn for this Hero who died for the Free!
Strike—strike the bold harp! &c.
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