 | The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq |  |
250
SONG. TO ARMS, COLUMBIA!
Tune—“HE COMES! HE COMES!
To arms, to arms, when Honour cries,
Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise;
On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred,
'Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword!
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise;
On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred,
'Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword!
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
Columbia's Eagle soars so high,
He kens the sun with sovereign eye;
Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour,
Nor perches, when the thunders roar.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
He kens the sun with sovereign eye;
Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour,
Nor perches, when the thunders roar.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Like Glory's dazzling bird of day,
Our realm should hold imperial sway;
Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand,
Though Faction's earthquake shake the land.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Our realm should hold imperial sway;
Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand,
Though Faction's earthquake shake the land.
To arms, Columbia, &c.
251
Shall Gallia bid our oaks descend,
Her rubrick banner to defend?
Enslave those forests, reared to reign,
The future monarchs of the main?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Her rubrick banner to defend?
Enslave those forests, reared to reign,
The future monarchs of the main?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Can glow-worm vie with noontide Sun,
Or Lodi's chief with Washington?
Can Earth her maniack moon obey,
Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Or Lodi's chief with Washington?
Can Earth her maniack moon obey,
Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway?
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Revenge! Revenge! The flag's unfurled!
Let Freedom's cannon wake the world,
And Ocean gorge on pirates slain,
'Till Truxton Nelsonise the main!
To arms, Columbia, &c.
Let Freedom's cannon wake the world,
And Ocean gorge on pirates slain,
'Till Truxton Nelsonise the main!
To arms, Columbia, &c.
The fate of nations waits the hour,
Foretold to end the serpent's power;
When fallen realms shall break their trance,
And Adams bruise the head of France.
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
Foretold to end the serpent's power;
When fallen realms shall break their trance,
And Adams bruise the head of France.
To arms, Columbia! rule thy natal sea,
United, triumph; and resolved, be free.
| The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq | |