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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.
 4. 
IV.
 5. 
V.
 6. 
VI.
 7. 
VII.
 8. 
VIII.
 9. 
IX.
 10. 
X.
 11. 
XI.
 12. 
XII.
 13. 
XIII.
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XIV.
 15. 
XV.
 16. 
XVI.
 17. 
XVII.
 18. 
XVIII.
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XIX.
 20. 
XX.
 21. 
XXI.
 22. 
XXII.
 23. 
XXIII.
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XXIV.
 25. 
XXV.
 26. 
XXVI.
 27. 
XXVII.
 28. 
XXVIII.
 29. 
XXIX.

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XXVIII.

But the deeds of those Heroes, though praised here by Minions,
What tongue but an Angel's can fitly proclaim?
Or a quill newly plucked from a Cherub's bright pinions,
Dipt in Heaven's own dyes, truly write their great fame?
With their feet newly washed they now walk the green Mountains,
Where the Morning is Noon, where the Noon melts to even;
While ten thousand sweet streams flow in song from their fountains,
Making glad the green Valleys with the Edens of Heaven.
As the Sun shines too bright for the bare eyes to gaze on,
But still we delight his great glory to see;
So, nothing less God-like than God's love can blazen
The deeds of the Beautiful, the fame of the Free
Then strike the bold harp! &c.
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