Patriotic Song

Celestial choirs are heard on high, Soblimely swells the sound, The azure arches of the sky, With notes divine rebound; The day of liberty arrives, The glorious day is come, The day when Freedom gready lives, And finds a much lov'd home,

Columbians once tho' greatly born, With Empire in their hand, Once of their beams, alas, were shorn, By tyrants' fell command: The clanking chain by Europe's blast, O'er groaning ocean hurl'd, Dash'd like the potter's clay, at last, Emancipates a world.

Hail! thrice immortal, glorious band, Rever'd be ev'ry name, Whose efforts sav'd a sinking land, Whose valor gave us same. Your deeds transcending human might, Like works of Heavenly pow'r, Shall glow till nature sinks in night, And time revolves no more!

Hail, matchless Hero, Vernon's pride, Thou first, thou best of men, Thy name on Angel wings shall ride, Thy deeds employ their pen: Till thou and ADAMS mount sublime, Where none but angels soar, Freedom shall stand as fast as time, And tyrants reign no more.

Not Gallic rage, nor Gallic might, Nor diplomatic art, Shall snatch blest Freedom from our sight, Or tear her from our heart. Those monstrous jaws extended wide, And red with human gore, Glutted, at last, with Gallic tide, Shall gape for Man no more.