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Invocation Addressed to Every Friend of His Country; September 1814
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129

Invocation Addressed to Every Friend of His Country; September 1814

Sons of freedom! who have bled,
Where Washington or Warren led,
Over heaps of mighty dead,
'Gainst a tyrant enemy;
See again: The battle lower!
Britain rallies all her power—
Now descends a fiery shower!
Cannons roar, and rockets fly.
Shades of patriots in the grave!
Shades of parted heroes brave!
Born, your country's rights to save,
From a ruthless tyrant's sway!
Rouse your gallant sons to arms!
Bid them wake to freedom's charms!
Bid them rush to war's alarms!
Rouse! And drive their foes away.
Bid them hasten to the strand!
Sword to Sword, and hand to hand!
Suffer not a foe to land
On the shores of Liberty!
Back to ocean drive the slaves!
There to perish in its waves!
Sink them to their watery graves!
Worthy not on earth to die!

130

Chorus
Sons of patriots in the grave!
Sons of parted heroes brave!
Born, your country's rights to save
From a ruthless tyrant's sway;
Be not blind to freedom's charms!
Be not deaf to war's alarms!
Rouse ye! rouse ye! quick to arms!
Rouse ye! and drive your foes away!
Haste ye! haste ye! to the strand!
Sword to Sword, and hand to hand!
Suffer not a foe to land
On the shores of liberty!
Back to ocean drive the slaves!
There to perish in its waves!
Sink them to their watery graves!
Worthy not on earth to die!
Aug. 15, 1810