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78 ODES AND SONGS. |
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Sister! snatch thy wretched brother
From the spoiler's cruel grasp ; Ere another year—another
Victim to their arms they clasp !
Wife !—with heart almost to breaking,
Hast thou not a word to say ? Can'st thou thus be slumber taking,
While thy husband is their prey ?
Patriots, christians, friends of freedom !
Waken now—can naught be done ? Naught to break this cruel thraldom ? Falter not! we are undone !
Hatfield.
5 NATIONAL ODE.
COME, SONS OF COLUMBIA.
C
OME, sons of Columbia, while proudly and high, Every bosom with freedom and glory is swelling, While our Eagle's bright eyrie's still built in the sky,
And tyranny's death.song is heard in each dwelling, Come, the bright chalice drain—and again and again, Let our pledge, and our toast, in a far sounding strain, Be water—pure water, bright sparkling with glee, That flows, like our life's blood, unfettered and free.
Oh ! the wine-cup may sparkle in ruby drops bright, And o'er its glad brim, in gay phalanx advancing, Fair gossamer spirits, in rain-bow like light,
May to Bacchanal music be gracefully dancing : While they dazzle our eyes with the hues of the skies, Soft and silvery tones on the breeze seem to rise, 'Tis the gush of pure water, bright sparkling with glee, That flows, like our life's blood, unfettered and free.
Oh ! then hail to thee, water—the Bacchanal's toast May be drank in red wine, that in ruddy light flashes
But Columbia's freemen still proudly shall boast, Of the free gift of God, that o'er hill and vale dashes: |
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