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

Address to Britain and America

WHEN rival nations, great in arms,

Great in power, in glory great,

Fill the world with war’s alarms,

And breathe a temporary hate—

The hostile storms yet rage a while,

And the dire contest ends.

But, ah! how hard to reconcile

The foes who once were friends!

Each hasty word, each look unkind,

Each distant hint, that seems to mean

A something lurking in the mind,

That almost longs to lurk unseen—

Each shadow of a shade offends

The imbittered foes who once were friends.

That Power, alone, who framed the soul,

And bade the springs of passion play,

Can all their jarring strings control,

And form on discord concord’s sway.

’Tis He alone, whose breath of love

Did o’er the world of waters move,

Whose touch the mountain bends,

Whose voice from darkness call’d forth light,

’Tis He, alone, can reunite

The foes who once were friends.

To Him, O Britain! bow the knee;

His awful, his august decree,

Columbia’s sons adore;

Forgive at once, and be forgiven,

Ope in each breast a little heaven,

And discord is no more.