 | Naked Genius |  |
TO THE FOURTH.
JULY 4TH, 1865.
To-day you make your choices,
Lift up your hearts and voices,
And every heart rejoices,
On this triumphal day.
Lift up your hearts and voices,
And every heart rejoices,
On this triumphal day.
Now let the proclamation,
Break through the land and nation,
The trump of free salvation,
Aloud the cause display.
Break through the land and nation,
The trump of free salvation,
Aloud the cause display.
Salvation is the sweetest song,
That ever broke from mortal tongue,
It fills the whole seraphic throng,
Throughout the worlds above;
What more can please by land or sea,
Than that which sets the bond-man free,
Lift ev'ry hand, bend ev'ry knee,
Swell every heart with love.
That ever broke from mortal tongue,
It fills the whole seraphic throng,
Throughout the worlds above;
What more can please by land or sea,
Than that which sets the bond-man free,
Lift ev'ry hand, bend ev'ry knee,
Swell every heart with love.
108
We solemn this should mention,
It is the Lord's invention,
To take the world's attention,
The sound of victory won;
The labor is at leisure,
'Tis pain turned into pleasure,
A shower of gold and treasure,
Now falls below the sun.
It is the Lord's invention,
To take the world's attention,
The sound of victory won;
The labor is at leisure,
'Tis pain turned into pleasure,
A shower of gold and treasure,
Now falls below the sun.
To-day, July the 4th, proclaim
The day of celebration,
It lifts into public fame,
Demanding jubilation,
O, let the sun rise not to set,
And we remain where first we met,
Never for mortal to regret,
A scene to last forever.
The day of celebration,
It lifts into public fame,
Demanding jubilation,
O, let the sun rise not to set,
And we remain where first we met,
Never for mortal to regret,
A scene to last forever.
Aloud and for the cannon's roar,
The triumph of the Western shore.
Oppression's voice be heard no more,
Hence to disturb us never.
The triumph of the Western shore.
Oppression's voice be heard no more,
Hence to disturb us never.
Whig, democrat or tory,
Each heart beats high for glory,
The most delightful story,
Is this of all the three;
The Union is our mother,
We hence should love each other,
The sister and the brother,
Rejoice we all are free.
Each heart beats high for glory,
The most delightful story,
Is this of all the three;
The Union is our mother,
We hence should love each other,
The sister and the brother,
Rejoice we all are free.
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