William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.

The Praise of Columbia

TO no monarch, no tyrant in robes will we sing

The pension-bought sounds from a heart of deceit;

Let love give the harmony, friendship the string,

Bright joy strike the chord, and the muses repeat:

’Tis the praise of Columbia awakens the song,

And the loud trump of Fame shall re-echo the strain;

America’s freedom the theme shall prolong,

And the world shall repeat it again and again.

For oppression no altar, no temple we raise,

Where the proud sons of indolent power might rest;

’Tis the goddess of Freedom we honour and praise,

Whose temple is found in each patriot’s breast:
Then let the praise of Columbia, &c.

Independence we fought for, that blessing we gain’d,

Trade, commerce, and plenty still add to our store;

These rights shall by valour be ever retain’d,

And peace, love, and friendship still dwell on this shore:
Then in praise of Columbia, &c.

May the true sons of Freedom still form a proud band,

And e’er guard the shore where bright Liberty reigns;

May Heaven in unity link heart and hand,

And smile on the host that no slavery stains:
Then in praise of Columbia, &c.