HAIL COLUMBIA. BAIL Columbia, happy land. Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band! Let independence be our boast, Immortal patriots! rise once more: That truth and justice will prevail, And every scheme of bondage fail. Sound, sound the trump of Fame! Ring through the world with loud applause, Ring through the world with loud applause; Let every clime to Freedom dear Listen with a joyful ear! With equal skill and godlike power, He governed in the fearful hour The rock on which the storm will beat; JOSEPH HOPKINSON. THE AMERICAN FLAG. HEN Freedom, from her mountain height, And set the stars of glory there! Majestic monarch of the cloud! Who rears't aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, And see the lightning lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of Heaven,Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory! Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Flag of the seas! on ocean wave HEN Britain first, at Heaven's command, The nations not so blessed as thee Must in their turns to tyrants fall; While thou shalt flourish great and free, The dread and envy of them all. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies Serves but to root thy native oak. Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame, But work their woe and thy renown. To thee belongs the rural reign; The Muses, still with freedom found, FRENCH NATIONAL HYMN. E sons of Freedom, wake to glory: Hark, hark, what myriads bid you rise; Your children, wives, and grandsires hoaryBehold their tears and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants mischief breeding, With hireling hosts, a ruffian band, Affright and desolate the land, All hearts resolved on Victory or death! Now, now the dangerous storm is rolling, While lawless force, with guilty stride, Th' avenging sword unsheath! March on! March on! All hearts resolved on Victory or death! With luxury and pride surrounded, The vile insatiate despots dare, Their thirst of gold and power unbounded, To mete and vend the light and air! Like beasts of burden they would load us, Like gods, would bid their slaves adore; But man is man, and who is more? Then shall they longer lash and goad us? March on! March on! All hearts resolved on Victory or death! O Liberty! can man resign thee, Once having felt thy generous flame? To arms, to arms, ye brave! All hearts resolved on Victory or death! PRUSSIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM. AM a Prussian! see my colors gleaming The black-white standard floats before me free; For Freedom's rights, my father's heart-blood streaming, Such, mark ye, mean the black and white to me! Shall I then prove a coward? I'll e'er be to the toward! Though day be dull, though sun shine bright on me, I am a Prussian, will a Prussian be! Before the throne with love and faith I'm bending, Whence, mildly good, I hear a parent's tone; With filial heart, obedient ear I'm lending; The father trusts-the son defends the throne! Affection's ties are stronger-live, O my country, longer! The King's high call o'erflows my breast so free; I am a Prussian, will a Prussian be! Not every day hath sunny light of glory; A cloud, a shower, sometimes dulls the lea; Let none believe my face can tell the story, That every wish unfruitful is to me. How many far and nearer would think exchange much dearer? Their Freedom's naught-how then compare with me! I am a Prussian, will a Prussian be! And if the angry elements exploding, The lightnings flash, the thunders loudly roar, Hath not the world oft witnessed such foreboding? No Prussian's courage can be tested more. Should rock and oak be riven, to terror I'm not driven; Be storm and din, let flashes gleam so free I am a Prussian, will a Prussian be! Where love and faith so round the monarch cluster, Where Prince and People so clasp firm their hands, "T is there alone true happiness can muster, Thus showing clear how firm the nation's bands, Again confirm the lealty! the honest, noble lealty! Be strong the bond, strike hands, dear hearts, with me; Is not this Prussia? Let us Prussians be! [FROM THE GERMAN.] X THE GERMAN'S FATHERLAND. HERE is the German's Fatherland? Is't Prussia? Swabia? Is't the strand Where grows the vine, where flows the Rhine? Is't where the gull skims Baltic's brine? No!-yet more great and far more grand Must be the German's Fatherland! How call they then the German's land? It where the Zuyder Zee extends? HALLOWED GROUND. HAT'S hallowed ground? Has earth a clod Unscourged by Superstition's rod To bow the knee? That's hallowed ground where, mourned and missed, The lips repose our love has kissed; But where's their memory's mansion? Is 't No! in ourselves their souls exist, A part of ours. A kiss can consecrate the ground The spot where love's first links were wound, Is hallowed down to earth's profound, For time makes all but true love old; Until the heart itself be cold In Lethe's pool. What hallows ground where heroes sleep? Or Genii twine beneath the deep But strew his ashes to the wind Whose sword or voice has served mankind,— To live in hearts we leave behind Is 't death to fall for Freedom's right? What can alone ennoble fight? Give that, and welcome War to brace The charging cheer, Though Death's pale horse lead on the chase, Shall still be dear. And place our trophies where men kneel Transfer it from the sword's appeal Peace, Love! the cherubim, that join The heart alone can make divine To incantations dost thou trust, That man can bless one pile of dust The ticking wood-worm mocks thee, man! Thy faith, that bigots dare not ban- Its roof, star-pictured Nature's ceiling, Make music, though unheard their pealing Fair stars! are not your beings pure? Ye must be heavens that make us sure And in your harmony sublime I read the doom of distant time; That man's regenerate soul from crime Shall yet be drawn, And reason on his mortal clime Immortal dawn. What's hallowed ground? 'Tis what gives birth Earth's compass round; And your high-priesthood shall make earth All hallowed ground. THOMAS CAmpbell. |