William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
FreedomW
Of Him who freedom gave?
Who never made his creature, man,
To be a crouching slave!
As chainless waves majestic roll,
When tempests sweep the sea,
So, with a brave and deathless soul,
Man is, and shall be free.
And thunder-bolts repose,
While millions slaughter’d kindred weep,
In agonizing woes;
And tyrants joy when Freedom dies,
And songs exulting sing,
While widows’ wails, and orphans’ cries,
Make vale and mountain ring.
Its purple course still run,
And make earth but a hopeless tomb
Revolving round the sun?
Forbid! great God of Truth and Grace;
Thine awful vengeance spare:
But speed the time when all our race
True happiness may share.
Thy potent sceptre wield,
That it may be to moral worth
A buckler and a shield.
Let Virtue on thy standard shine,
And Truth, the fairest gem
That e’er was form’d by Power Divine,
Adorn thy diadem.
Man’s welfare be thine end;
That in his breast care, hope, and fear,
Like rainbow hues may blend.
No more let ruffian hands profane
The temples thou hast built;
Nor yet thy sacred altars stain
With marks of scarlet guilt.
Let War’s dread trumpet cease,
And freemen gather at thy call,
To welcome smiling Peace.
But while thy sons their fealty swear,
And round thy banner cling,
Let not Ambition worship there—
That would confusion bring.
And bow to Reason’s sway;
Then systems false, upheld by might,
Shall swiftly pass away.
No more shall rage the fearful storm
That drowns the world in blood;
For all mankind that day will form
One glorious brotherhood.