This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

44

PUTNAM.

Let the haughty smile, the low defame,
The heartless worldling mock;
I thank my God my fathers came
Of the good old Pilgrim stock!

I thank my God, through this heart bounds
Blood from that hero band;
That my sire first opened his young eyes
Where Northern plains expand;
That my mother's first breath was the air
Of Putnam's glorious land!

Our own brave Putnam! worthy thou
Such rare and knightly praise
As warrior bards of a warrior race
Wove in their triumph-lays,
And sang aloud to their sounding harps,
In the old heroic days.