An Ode, Composed for the Occasion

Behold once more the glorious day, Which Freedom fondly calls her own! Lo! nineteen years have roll'd away, Since INDEPENDENCE rear'd her throne.

Still joy and plenty bless her reign; Still with a nation's smiles she's crown'd; The cherub Peace adorns her train, And Science seats the Muses round.

While millions sing an empire's birth, And fill the air with sweet acclaims, Loud Fame, o'er all the echoing earth, Repeats Columbia's favourite names.

Still, in the midst of Freedom's bands, Behold great WASHINGTON on high! Like some vast rock, unmov'd he stands, While rearing storms around him die.