William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Sons of Freedom, Rise!R
Swift as the lightning flies,
Rush to the ocean, hear our brother sighing:
Rush to the ocean, rescue him from dying.
Let us unite, let martial songs
Wake us to feel our country’s wrongs.
Let independence warm the soul—
Proclaim it loud from pole to pole:
Let every haughty tyrant know
Each son of Freedom is his foe.
Insulting pirates now shall feel
Columbia’s arm is nerved with steel.
Insulting pirates now shall feel
Columbia’s arm is nerved with steel.
These haughty tyrants reign,
Pirates and robbers, eager all for plunder.
Rouse, then, indignant! hurl on them your thunder.
Americans! no longer sleep,
No longer cringe, no longer creep;
Boldly advance, and take your stand;
Defend your much-insulted land;
Mark how the eagle mounts the skies,
Where independent spirits rise.
The keen-eyed eagle points the way,
And Freedom’s sons her call obey.
The keen-eyed eagle points the way,
And Freedom’s sons her call obey.
Wide o’er the watery main,
Let the loud trumpet wake each drooping spirit;
Rouse to defend the blessing we inherit.
Brave youth, prepare, these dire alarms
Call you to arms; to arms! to arms!
Our foes advance—slaves you must be,
Or proudly stand for liberty;
Those foreign tyrants would destroy
That heaven-born freedom we enjoy.
Invading hordes shall die accurst,
Back they must fly, or bite the dust.
Invading hordes shall die accurst,
Back they must fly, or bite the dust.