A Thousand Years, My Own Columbia.
Lift up your eyes, desponding freeman,
Fling to the winds your needless fears;
He who unfurled your beauteous banner,
Says it shall wave a thousand years.
A thousand years, my own Columbia,
'Tis the glad day so long foretold;
'Tis the glad morn, whose early twilight
Washington saw in times of old.
What if the clouds one little moment
Hide the blue sky where morn appears;
When the bright sun that tints them crimson.
Rises to shine a thousand years?-Chorus.
Tell the great world these blessed tidings,
Yes, and be sure the bondmen hears;
Tell the oppressed of ev'ry nation,
Jubilee lasts a thousand years.-Chorus.
Envious foes beyond the ocean,
Little we heed your threat'ning sneers;
Little will they-our children's children-
When you are gone a thousand years.-Chorus.
Rebels at home, go hide your faces,
Weep for your crimes with bitter tears;
You could not hind the Blessed daylight.
Though you should strive a thousand years.-Chorus.
Back to your dens, ye secret traitors,
Down to your own degraded spheres;
Ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine
Shortens your lives a thousand years. - Chorus.
Haste thee along, thou glorious noonday.
Oh, for the eyes of ancient seers;
Oh, for the faith of Him who reckons
Each of his days a thousand years.-Chorus.