William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Battle of PrincetonS
And ruthless Boreas urged amain
His fierce, impetuous course;
In ice the watery regions bound,
The torrent’s foaming rage confound
And stop its boisterous force.
Columbia’s sons in tents were laid,
And winter’s blasts defied:
No foes appal, no dangers fright,
Whilst Freedom’s sacred cause they fight,
And Washington’s their guide.
He saw a godlike form arise,
Like martial Pallas drest;
’Twas Liberty! celestial maid!
In all her golden charms array’d,
The goddess stood confess’d.
Thy country’s sacred cause approve,
And on thy virtues smile;
Though proud oppression waste the land,
Yet freedom purchased by thy hand
Shall soon reward thy toil.
In awful pomp, and brave the skies;
Exulting o’er the land;
Her haughty legions soon shall feel
The force of thine avenging steel,
And this thy chosen band.
And tenfold legions fill the plain,
To martial deeds inured;
Undaunted rise and take the field,
For Liberty shall lend her shield
And Victory her sword.”
And straight convened his faithful band,
Inspired by freedom’s lore;
Egyptian darkness veil’d the night,
But Liberty’s celestial light
Their footsteps went before.
In arms the hostile legions met,
And fate upheld the scale;
Forth rush’d the blazing orb of light
To add new glories to the sight,
When Freedom’s sons assail.
Her haughty foes were drench’d in blood,
Or shunn’d the doubtful fight;
Whilst Britons shame and grief confound,
Fair Liberty the victors crown’d
With honours ever bright.
Her annual wreath at Freedom’s shrine,
The hero’s brow to grace;
By whose victorious arm restored,
No more she flies the hostile sword,
But hails her native place.
A garland shall the muse prepare,
To deck her Mercer’s urn;
While Freedom fills the trump of fame,
Columbia shall revere his name,
His fate her sons shall mourn.