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

The Terrestrial Paradise—1800

YE great, immortal Muses, nine,

Assist, I pray, my grand design,

To make Columbia brightly shine,

And cause her fame to rise.

We hear the warlike trumpet sound,

And through the ancient world resound,

While cannons roar, and shouts rebound,

From earth to distant skies.

Columbia’s free from war’s alarms,

And all the rage of hostile arms;

Free from those dreadful warlike storms

Which round the world doth roar:

Peace reigns within her blissful realm,

A virtuous chief doth guide her helm:

No servile foe shall overwhelm

In war, Columbia’s shore.

Where the same hand may reap, that sows,

What nature copiously bestows;

And still enjoy that sweet repose,

Which nature daily craves;

No tyrant king, with lawless will,

Can here obstruct the public weal;

Or overwhelm the state in ill,

And render freemen slaves.

O may Columbia thus remain,

Enjoying still her peaceful reign;

And ne’er be plunged in war again

By European foes:

Still govern’d by the people’s voice,

A government of our own choice,

In which we ever will rejoice,

And tyranny oppose.