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

Jefferson and Liberty—1801

Tune—“Willie was a wanton wag”

THE GLOOMY night before us flies,

The reign of terror now is o’er;

Its gags, inquisitors, and spies,

Its herds of harpies are no more!

Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, rejoice!

To tyrants never bend the knee,

But join, with heart, and soul, and voice,

For Jefferson and Liberty.

O’er vast Columbia’s varied clime,

Her cities, forests, shores, and dales,

In rising majesty, sublime,

Immortal Liberty prevails.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

Hail, long expected, glorious day!

Illustrious, memorable morn!

That Freedom’s fabric from decay

Rebuilds, for millions yet unborn.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

His country’s glory, hope, and stay,

In virtue and in talents tried,

Now rises to assume the sway,

O’er Freedom’s temple to preside.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

Within its hallow’d walls immense,

No hireling band shall e’er arise,

Array’d in tyranny’s defence,

To crush an injured people’s cries.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

No lordling here, with gorging jaws,

Shall wring from industry the food;

Nor fiery bigot’s holy laws

Lay waste our fields and streets in blood.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

Here strangers, from a thousand shores,

Compell’d by tyranny to roam,

Shall find, amidst abundant stores,

A nobler and a happier home.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

Here Art shall lift her laurell’d head,

Wealth, Industry, and Peace divine;

And where dark, pathless forests spread,

Rich fields and lofty cities shine.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

From Europe’s wants and woes remote,

A friendly waste of waves between,

Here plenty cheers the humblest cot,

And smiles on every village-green.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

Here, free as air’s expanded space,

To every soul and sect shall be

That sacred privilege of our race,

The worship of the Deity.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

These gifts, great Liberty! are thine;

Ten thousand more we owe to thee.

Immortal may their memories shine,

Who fought and died for Liberty.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

What heart but hails a scene so bright?

What soul, but inspiration draws?

Who would not guard so dear a right,

Or die in such a glorious cause?
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

Let foes to freedom dread the name:

But should they touch the sacred tree,

Twice fifty thousand swords would flame

For Jefferson and Liberty.
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.

From Georgia to Lake Champlain,

From seas to Mississippi’s shore,

Ye sons of Freedom, loud proclaim,

“The reign of terror is no more.”
Rejoice! Columbia’s sons, &c.