 | [Erect he stands, in] Whig songs for 1844 |  |
16
ERECT HE STANDS.
“Holding the principle that a citizen, so long as a single pulsation remains, is under an obligation to exert his utmost energies in the service of his country, whether in a private or public station, my friends may rest assured that in either condition I shall stand erect, with a spirit unconquered, while life endures, ready to second their exertions in the cause of Union and Liberty.”
Henry Clay.
Ay! stand erect—the cloud is broken;
Above thee stands the rainbow's token;
The shadow of thy onward way
Is blending into perfect day;
The slanders of the venal train
Assail thy honest name in vain;
For thou art still, as thou hast been,
The hope of free and patriot men.
Above thee stands the rainbow's token;
The shadow of thy onward way
Is blending into perfect day;
The slanders of the venal train
Assail thy honest name in vain;
For thou art still, as thou hast been,
The hope of free and patriot men.
Still boasts thy lip its fiery zeal,
Thy heart its joy in human weal;
Still free thy tongue to soothe or warn,
Still keen its fiery shaft of scorn;
Still soars thy soul untamed and strong,
The loftier for its sense of wrong;
Still first in Freedom's cause to stand,
The Champion of her favorite land.
Thy heart its joy in human weal;
Still free thy tongue to soothe or warn,
Still keen its fiery shaft of scorn;
Still soars thy soul untamed and strong,
The loftier for its sense of wrong;
Still first in Freedom's cause to stand,
The Champion of her favorite land.
Oh! what to thee were pomp and show,
Aught that thy Country can bestow?
Her highest gifts could only take
New honors for their wearer's sake;
They could not add a wreath to thine,
Nor brighter make thy glory shine:
No—meaner ones may borrow fame;
Thine lives through every change the same.
Aught that thy Country can bestow?
Her highest gifts could only take
New honors for their wearer's sake;
They could not add a wreath to thine,
Nor brighter make thy glory shine:
No—meaner ones may borrow fame;
Thine lives through every change the same.
The Grecian, as he feeds his flocks
In Tempe's vale, on Morea's rocks,
Or where the gleam of bright blue waters
Is caught by Scio's white-armed daughters,
While dwelling on the dubious strife
Which ushered in his Nation's life,
Shall mingle in his grateful lay
Bozzaris with the name of Clay.
In Tempe's vale, on Morea's rocks,
Or where the gleam of bright blue waters
Is caught by Scio's white-armed daughters,
While dwelling on the dubious strife
Which ushered in his Nation's life,
Shall mingle in his grateful lay
Bozzaris with the name of Clay.
Where blush the warm skies of the South
O'er Cotopaxi's fiery mouth,
And round the fallen Incas' graves
The pampa rolls its breezy waves—
The patriot in his council-hall,
The soldier at his fortress-wall,
The brave, the lovely, and the free
Shall offer up their prayer for thee.
O'er Cotopaxi's fiery mouth,
And round the fallen Incas' graves
The pampa rolls its breezy waves—
The patriot in his council-hall,
The soldier at his fortress-wall,
The brave, the lovely, and the free
Shall offer up their prayer for thee.
And where our own rude valleys smile,
And temple-spire and lofty pile
Crown, like the fashion of a dream,
The slope of every fountain-stream—
Where Industry and Plenty meet,
Twin-brothers, in the crowded street—
Each spire and mountain upward sent
Shall be thy fitting monument.
And temple-spire and lofty pile
Crown, like the fashion of a dream,
The slope of every fountain-stream—
Where Industry and Plenty meet,
Twin-brothers, in the crowded street—
Each spire and mountain upward sent
Shall be thy fitting monument.
Still stand erect! our hope and trust,
When law is trampled in the dust—
When o'er our fathers' yet green graves
The war-cry of Disunion raves,
And sons of those who, side by side,
Smote down the Lion-banner's pride,
Are girding for fraternal strife,
For blow for blow, for life for life!
When law is trampled in the dust—
When o'er our fathers' yet green graves
The war-cry of Disunion raves,
And sons of those who, side by side,
Smote down the Lion-banner's pride,
Are girding for fraternal strife,
For blow for blow, for life for life!
Let others rob the public store,
To buy their ill-used power once more—
Shrink back from Truth, and open wide
The flood-gates of Corruption's tide;
Thou standest in thy Country's eye,
Unshrinking from its scrutiny,
And asking nothing but to show
How far a patriot's zeal can go.
To buy their ill-used power once more—
Shrink back from Truth, and open wide
The flood-gates of Corruption's tide;
Thou standest in thy Country's eye,
Unshrinking from its scrutiny,
And asking nothing but to show
How far a patriot's zeal can go.
And those whose trust is fixed on thee—
Unbought, unpledged, and truly free—
They bow not to an idol down,
They scorn alike the bribe and frown;
And, asking no reward of gold
For bartered faith, for honor sold,
Seek, faithful to their hearths and home,
Not Cæsar's weal, but that of Rome!
Unbought, unpledged, and truly free—
They bow not to an idol down,
They scorn alike the bribe and frown;
And, asking no reward of gold
For bartered faith, for honor sold,
Seek, faithful to their hearths and home,
Not Cæsar's weal, but that of Rome!
| [Erect he stands, in] Whig songs for 1844 | |