PATRIOTIC.
POEM FOR INDEPENDENCE DAY.
HOW shall we celebrate the day
To which our freedom owes its birth;
When firm, yet seeking no display,
The patriots stood in proud array,
Before the mighty ones of earth?
To which our freedom owes its birth;
When firm, yet seeking no display,
The patriots stood in proud array,
Before the mighty ones of earth?
Trusting in God, they stood alone,
With dauntless front and unquelled eye,
No servile fear, no sorrowing moan,
As thus they braved high England's throne,
And "Liberty or Death," their cry.
With dauntless front and unquelled eye,
No servile fear, no sorrowing moan,
As thus they braved high England's throne,
And "Liberty or Death," their cry.
Heaven smiled propitious on the hour,
And nerved with hope the little band—
They bade farewell to beauty's bower,
And armed with justice, clothed in power,
Fought boldly for their native land.
And nerved with hope the little band—
They bade farewell to beauty's bower,
And armed with justice, clothed in power,
Fought boldly for their native land.
They fought against the tyrant king,
Led on by freedom's chosen son—
With clash of arms the valleys ring,
Till loud their triumph-song they sing,
Of victory and Washington.
Led on by freedom's chosen son—
With clash of arms the valleys ring,
Till loud their triumph-song they sing,
Of victory and Washington.
Not all in vain their blood so free
Was spilled like rain-drops o'er the earth,
But gathering in one mighty sea
Waters the tree of liberty,
Which in each freeman's heart finds birth.
Was spilled like rain-drops o'er the earth,
But gathering in one mighty sea
Waters the tree of liberty,
Which in each freeman's heart finds birth.
How shall we celebrate the hour,
Which set our own loved country free?
With joyous shout in peaceful bower,
With cannon's roar, and music's power,
We'll hail the Nation's jubilee.
Which set our own loved country free?
With joyous shout in peaceful bower,
With cannon's roar, and music's power,
We'll hail the Nation's jubilee.
Our banner, with its stripe and star,
We'll keep unstained from sire to son—
Each breeze shall waft its folds afar,
Unsullied, as when first in war
It waved o'er fields of vict'ry won.
We'll keep unstained from sire to son—
Each breeze shall waft its folds afar,
Unsullied, as when first in war
It waved o'er fields of vict'ry won.
We'll teach our children freedom's song,
To lisp in artless joyous glee,
And ever, as the strains prolong,
We'll shout the echo loud and long,
Our own America is free!
To lisp in artless joyous glee,
And ever, as the strains prolong,
We'll shout the echo loud and long,
Our own America is free!