 | Birth-day song of liberty
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IX.
Let us sing of Mount Vernon, the world's Promontory,
Where the bones of the Hero now peacefully lie,
While his soul basks in bliss on the Mountains of Glory,
Crowned King of the Heroes who never can die.
Hark! the minuit-gun booms! wails aloud the departed!
America the blest weeps like one now forlorn!
For, like Rachel of Ramah, she bleeds broken-hearted,
For the loss of that Joy who can never return!
See! the riderless war-horse walks on by his coffin,
Where the Hero lies sleeping no more now to see;
Where America bends at his grave, now, so often,
With her thirty-six Heroes to mourn now with me!
Strike—strike the bold harp! &c.
| Birth-day song of liberty
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