My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays

Not for the blood-polluted car
Wake the triumphant song of fame,
But for the Chief who spares the war,
Touched by a suffering people's claim.
Hail Columbia! Columbia blest and free,
The Star of Empire leads to thee.

Let the rich laurel's baneful green
Bright on the warrior's front appear,
But olive in HIS path be seen,
Whose genius gives the prosperous year.
Hail Columbia! Columbia blest and free,
The Star of Empire breaks on thee.

Diffused around the sacred skies,
The electric ray of hope extends,
On every wing of commerce flies,
And to the earth's green lap descends.
Hail Columbia! Columbia blest and free,
The Star of Empire beams on thee.

Empire, that travels wide and far,
Sheds her last glories on THE WEST—
Born mid the morning realms of war,
She loves the peaceful evening best.
Hail Columbia! Columbia blest and free,
The Star of Empire rests on thee!

Then let the pledge of Freedom pass,
While every Patriot bosom glows,

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And o'er the elevated glass
The amber of the vintage flows.
Hail Columbia! Columbia blest and free,
The Star of Empire falls with thee!

It will probably be perceived that the chorus of the above song, is in allusion to Bishop Berkley's prophecy:—

“Westward the course of Empire bends its way,
“The four first acts already past,
“The fifth shall close the drama of the day,
“Time's noblest offspring is the last.”

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