Song, to suit the Times

Arise, and blow thy Trumpet, Fame! Americans, your rights proclaim, To every realm that's known; Tell them of great Columbia's Son, The good, the glorious Washington, Who soars above a throne,

Should powerful Britain on us smile, Our independence to beguile, Their flattery we'll despise: Tho' Gallia plays an artful game, Columbia's glory to defame, Each trick in embryo dies.

Tho' Algiers with imperious hand, Quite fearless, made a bold demand, And we, like others, gave; Let's bid defiance to them all, The Turk, the Britain, and the Gaul, Since Adams rules the brave.

Still louder, Fame, thy trumpet blow, Let all the distant nations know Americans are free; Almighty wisdom laid the plan, And Virtue join'd the veteran band, That gain'd our liberty.

Columbia's sons with songs advance, And through the etherial vast expance, Let Washington be prais'd; He led us through the lonely wood, O'er desert hills and fields of blood, And Freedom's banner rais'd.