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The day the blissful day returns, That freed us from the foe, Each patriot's breast with rapture burns, Which patriots only know: The thundering cannos cease to roar, Sweet peace her timbrel founds; The din of arms is heard no more, But love and joy abounds.

O Liberty, Columbia's boast, May thy pure sweets abound, Diverge to our remotest coast, And flow to realms around: Till time dissolves the sacred tie, Unites each rolling sphere, And through the rended furling sky Bids deathless scenes appear.