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ODE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


277

ODE.

[_]

Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Independence, July 4, 1811.

Tune—“BATTLE OF THE NILE.”
Let patriot pride our patriot triumph wake!
The Jubilee of Freedom relumes a Nation's soul!
On land, or main, no right of realm forsake.
Though warriour storms, like ocean tempests, roll.
Spread your banners, let Commerce, Industry directing,
Mantle the waves, by courage, Wealth protecting!
And new honours while we pay
To our Country's Natal Day,
Let us build her great renown,
From a soil and sea our own;
For Commerce, Agriculture, Art—rewarded shall be!
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
Heaven gave to Man the Charter to be free.
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
Columbia lives, and claims the great decree.
Arise! Arise! Columbia's Sons, Arise!
Assert, on the ocean, your Ocean's sovereign law;

278

No hostile flag shall hover in your skies;
No pirate keep your mariners in awe.
Be the rights of your shores by Cannon Law expounded,
And your waters shall be safe, where hook and line are sounded.
On the shoals of Newfoundland,
Let your tars and boats command,
For a Mine of wealth you keep
In the Bank beneath the deep,
Whose Charter, awful Charter, is renewed by every sea.
Huzza! Huzza! &c &c. &c.
If equal justice neutral laws proclaim,
No power will presumptuous your sovereignty disgrace;
Among your Stars inscribe a Nation's name,
Your flag will guard, our freedom and your race.
Base submission, inviting indignity and Plunder,
Like a worm, kills an Oak, which should have braved the thunder.
Though beneath the rifting ball,
Should the mountain monarch fall,
Still in majesty he reigns,
And, though prostrate, rules the plains;
And scios, blooming scios, spring, to renovate the tree.
Huzza! Huzza! &c &c. &c.
Arouse! Arouse! Columbia's Sons, Arouse!
And burst through the slumber of faction-dreaming fears;
Bid Cannons shake the tempests from your brows,
And the clouds shall echo glory on your ears.
When the trumpet of Victory, Independence claiming,
Swelled o'er your hills, from fields in battle flaming;

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When the Freedom of the land,
By your Patriotick Band,
To this Temple was consigned,
'Twas with Washington enshrined,
That the Charter, sacred Charter, there, immortal should be.
Huzza! Huzza! &c. &c. &c.