Songs, Odes, and Other Poems, on National Subjects: Patriotic

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Seite 218 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave ; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Seite 218 - OH, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming ? Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming ? And the rockets...
Seite 182 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Seite 51 - Hail, Columbia ! happy land ! Hail, ye heroes, heaven-born band! Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause; And when the storm of war was gone, Enjoyed the peace your valor won. Let independence be our boast, Ever mindful what it cost; Ever grateful for the prize, Let its altar reach the skies. Firm united let us be, Rallying round our liberty! As a band of brothers joined, Peace and safety we shall find.
Seite 218 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, "half conceals, half discloses?
Seite 53 - Behold the chief who now commands, Once more to serve his country, stands — The rock on which the storm will beat, The rock on which the storm will beat; But, armed in virtue firm and true, His hopes are fixed on heaven and you.
Seite 183 - What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine ? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God.
Seite 418 - And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, To stay its waves of pride. But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale, When the heavens looked dark, is gone; — As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, Is seen, and then withdrawn. The pilgrim exile — sainted name ! — The hill, whose icy brow Rejoiced, when he came, in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame burns now. And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night On the hill-side and the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless...
Seite 418 - The mists, that wrapped the pilgrim's sleep, Still brood upon the tide ; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, To stay its waves of pride. But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale, When the heavens looked dark, is gone ; As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, Is seen, and then withdrawn.
Seite 7 - Come join hand in hand, brave Americans all, And rouse your bold hearts at fair Liberty's call; No tyrannous acts shall suppress your just claim, Or stain with dishonor America's name. In freedom we're born, and in freedom we'll live; Our purses are ready, Steady, Friends, steady; Not as slaves, but as freemen our money we'll give. Our worthy forefathers — let's give them a cheer — To climates unknown did courageously steer; Thro' oceans to deserts, for freedom they came, And, dying, bequeath...

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