dots-menu
×

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

Rise, Sons of Freedom

Sung at the Anniversary of American Independence, at Salem, Massachusetts, on the 4th of July, 1813

Tune—“Rise, Columbia”

ALL hail to Freedom’s natal day,

High let the hymn of rapture peal;

Breathe there, who hate a tyrant’s sway?

Breathe there, who love their country’s weal?

Rise! sons of Freedom! bless the hour

That broke the chains of foreign power.

In triumph sound the heroes’ praise,

Who for their country boldly dared,

And mid the battle’s fiercest blaze,

To meet the storm their bosoms bared,

And there in glory sunk at rest

With virtue’s holiest requiems bless’d.

And, Lawrence, thine the deathless meed,

Dear to the brave—as honour dear;

Thine was the soul for valour’s deed,

And thine was mercy’s generous tear.

Ne’er gallant spirit tower’d more high,

Nor nobler shall in battle die.

And shall the sons of sires who bled,

With foul dishonour stain their graves?

And shall the soil that wraps the dead,

Nurse on its bosom recreant slaves?

Forbid, kind Heaven, the deep disgrace,

And save from blast thy chosen race.

Quick, at your country’s call, ye brave,

Let from their sheathes your falchions leap,

And, where the battle’s banners wave,

And where its thunders plough the deep,

Instant, ye gallant bands, repair,

Resolved to die or conquer there.

Lo, where your fathers’ spirits rise,

And point the hour of vengeance near,

In lightnings flash their kindling eyes,

And chase affection’s lingering tear.

They bid you hasten to the field,

And but with life the victory yield.

Nor dread the onset, Heaven is just:

He who directs the rolling sphere

Shall smite the oppressor to the dust,

And guide the patriot’s bright career.

Rise, sons of Freedom! rise, once more,

And guard from wrongs your native shore.