Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope! Fear not each sudden sound and shock, 'Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee,--are all with thee!
My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountain-side Let freedom ring.
My native country, thee, Land of the noble free,-- Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.
Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees, Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake, Let all that breathe partake, Let rocks their silence break,-- The sound prolong.
Our fathers' God, to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee I sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by thy might, Great God our King.
[On the proposed breaking up of the United States frigate "Constitution."]
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle-shout, And burst the cannon's roar: The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more!
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee: The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
O better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave! Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave: Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms, The lightning and the gale!