 | Columbia's glory |  |
Oh LIBERTY! thou dear delightful name
Indulge an humble bard's request,
Propitious smile and fire his breast
With thine enthusiastic flame;
Let vast ideas thro' his fancy roll,
Let mighty raptures swell his soul,
And be his numbers worthy of his theme.
Thine influence Congress knows,
Senate august! thence genuinely flows
That dignity of sentiment and zeal,
Which marks their counsels for Columbia's weal.
Her guardian hero feels
Thine animating charms,
And, while his heart undaunted valour steels,
With patriot flames his gen'rous bosom glows:
Hence he has long thy glorious champion stood,
And fought and labour'd for thy people's good;
Sublime in virtue, as renown'd in arms.
Rous'd by thy voice and by the dying groans
Of slaughter'd freemen, on th' ensanguin'd plain
Of Lexington, Columbia's hardy sons,
Tho' rude and unexperienc'd, rose,
On their inhuman foes
To take just vengeance for their brethren slain.
Columbia's utmost bound
Soon heard the solemn sound
Of thy loud summons; at thy call to arms,
Like summer's clust'ring swarms,
Thy vot'ries throng'd thy standard from afar;
Like Cincinnatus in the days of yore,
Heroic peasants left their farms,
The merchant his accustom'd store
And the forensic orator the bar:
All ranks with indignation spurn'd
The blandishments of an inglorious peace,
And kindling at the dire alarms,
With martial ardor burn'd,
Sprang from the downy lap of ease,
And rush'd by myriads to th' advent'rous war.
Oh! as thy breath inspir'd the sage,
As all thine ardor fir'd the hero's rage,
May the bard also thy kind aid engage
To his advent'rous lay:
Be it as smiling vict'ry gay,
Tremendous as Columbia's sword,
Like her intrepid heroes bold,
Triumphant as her banners play;
Majestic as that rev'rend train,
That sit around her council-board;
Like her enlarg'd domain,
Almost by limits uncontroul'd,
May it in various thought extensive be,
And unconfin'd by fetters, as inspir'd by Thee.
What tho' a rural swain,
Unskilful be my tongue?
What tho' exil'd so long,
Far from my native plain,
My harp untun'd has on the willows hung?
I still can sing, and in no vulgar strain,
If thou, great pow'r, propitious deign
To patronize the attempt and animate my song.
Indulge an humble bard's request,
Propitious smile and fire his breast
With thine enthusiastic flame;
Let vast ideas thro' his fancy roll,
4
And be his numbers worthy of his theme.
Thine influence Congress knows,
Senate august! thence genuinely flows
That dignity of sentiment and zeal,
Which marks their counsels for Columbia's weal.
Her guardian hero feels
Thine animating charms,
And, while his heart undaunted valour steels,
With patriot flames his gen'rous bosom glows:
Hence he has long thy glorious champion stood,
And fought and labour'd for thy people's good;
Sublime in virtue, as renown'd in arms.
Rous'd by thy voice and by the dying groans
Of slaughter'd freemen, on th' ensanguin'd plain
Of Lexington, Columbia's hardy sons,
Tho' rude and unexperienc'd, rose,
On their inhuman foes
To take just vengeance for their brethren slain.
Columbia's utmost bound
Soon heard the solemn sound
Of thy loud summons; at thy call to arms,
Like summer's clust'ring swarms,
Thy vot'ries throng'd thy standard from afar;
Like Cincinnatus in the days of yore,
Heroic peasants left their farms,
The merchant his accustom'd store
And the forensic orator the bar:
All ranks with indignation spurn'd
The blandishments of an inglorious peace,
And kindling at the dire alarms,
With martial ardor burn'd,
5
And rush'd by myriads to th' advent'rous war.
Oh! as thy breath inspir'd the sage,
As all thine ardor fir'd the hero's rage,
May the bard also thy kind aid engage
To his advent'rous lay:
Be it as smiling vict'ry gay,
Tremendous as Columbia's sword,
Like her intrepid heroes bold,
Triumphant as her banners play;
Majestic as that rev'rend train,
That sit around her council-board;
Like her enlarg'd domain,
Almost by limits uncontroul'd,
May it in various thought extensive be,
And unconfin'd by fetters, as inspir'd by Thee.
What tho' a rural swain,
Unskilful be my tongue?
What tho' exil'd so long,
Far from my native plain,
My harp untun'd has on the willows hung?
I still can sing, and in no vulgar strain,
If thou, great pow'r, propitious deign
To patronize the attempt and animate my song.
| Columbia's glory | |