William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
For the Fourth of July’T
Shall I then be sober alone?
Let me hear no complaints, see no visages sad,
Nor to-day our misfortunes bemoan.
That in seventy-six was distill’d;
To Washington’s health it was quaff’d till he died,
And now in his name shall be fill’d.
My old clay for the last time I’ll wet
In a bumper to him who was “first in our hearts,”
And is first in our gratitude yet.
For their country they knew how to bleed,
Noble Lawrence and Allen, lamented and loved,
And Burrows, a hero indeed!