William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
The Day to FreedomT
Her sons her call obey;
Each patriot heart with ardour burns,
To join the choral lay.
O! as we raise the joyous strains,
What transport fills each breast;
They hail the day our native plains
With liberty were bless’d.
Unwonted strikes the ear;
It tells, alas! of fire-eyed War,
And Discord hovering near.
But let the thunder growl around,
Its bolts shall fall in vain;
No freeman’s arm shall ere be found
To forge a tyrant’s chain.
We boast his honour’d name,
Whose arms preserved his native land,
Who glow’d with Freedom’s flame.
Like him despising War’s alarms,
Should Liberty cry, On!
For her we’d instant spring to arms—
True sons of Washington.