New [American] Patriotic Songs, Song

Come genius of our happy land, And bless this festive day; Thy sons are we, a loyal band, Who love thee and obey: For should the blast of war be heard, To threat impending harms, Secure beneath thy vet'ran bird, We'll brave the world in arms.

Bold as our Sires, nor born to yield, But scorn for scorn bestow; The blossoms which adorn our fields, Bloom not to deck a foe. For should the blast of war, &c.

From traitor friends, with serpent smile, We'll rend the thin disguise, Who speak of faith, and love the while They pillage and despise. For should the blast of war, &c.

Here once, by folly's sons display'd, The Gallic standard shone; No ribband now our feasts invade, There waves our flag alone. And should the blast of war, &c.

With generous wine your bumpers fill, Where purple joys resort; Peace to the Sage of Vernon Hill, To Adams here's support. Then should the blast of war, &c.