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From the far West, o'er wide Atlantic's wave,
With giant accent Freedom's tidings sweep.
Columbia's roused. Let Peel and Graham rave.
Let Stanley "on," and hoary Wellesley keep
His counsel as he lists. We reck not, and we care not,
How much he dare to do. We guess how much he dare not.


We know ourselves unconquerably firm—
We're temperate, cool, determined to be free—
We feel that vassalage must reach its term—
We've had our centuries of slavery.
And now, oh, God! with thy strong arm around us,
Shall power abuse, or despotism wound us?


Is it for nought the humble friar came,
Missioned of heav'n, to banish from our shore
The curs'd ingredient in our cup of shame—
The canker worm that ate into the core—
The serpent vice that coiled around the soul,
And gave but grief's worst remedy, "the bowl?"


Is it for nought that He, our Leader rules
Our peaceful millions with sagacious sway?—
A sway more potent than the minion tools
Of Tory rule could beg or buy. The day
Of our deliverance dawns—we know it, and we feel it—
The Union's fetters fall. Ho! Feel, we say, repeal it!