William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Bunkers HillCharles L. S. Jones
O, B
Warm’d with the prospect of my country’s greatness,
Bright on my eye descending, break, in splendour,
Visions of glory.
Cloudless, the sun displays his ample fulness
O’er the rich vale’s variegated bosom,
Tinting with beauty.
Fair o’er thy mound a haloed radiance flinging,
Lingering he sets; reluctant leaves the scene where
Freedom descended.
Dim and opake, flit on my eyes, obscurely,
Night’s moody forms, in murky veil enshrouded,
Silent and sable.
Clouds, in effulgence bursting, with enrapturing
Beams of supernal brightness, on my dazzled
Eye, heaven opens.
Fair, to the sound of soft angelic breathings,
Glorious, descend; and, round thy sacred summit,
Hover, enraptured!
By the assent of age on age united,
In your loved country’s ever grateful memory
Shrined and embalmed;
Hither, each eve, in found remembrance bending,
Hither ye come, and round, in hallow’d triumph,
Bow in devotion!
Emulous ye pile your gifts of odorous fragrance,
Whilst your high-priest the rising flame enkindles,
Immortal Warren!
Wreathed with its lofty flashings and ascensions,
Rise; whilst their heavenly bosoms, O Columbia,
Yearn o’er, and for thee!
From this, their haunt, by high emprise ennobled,
View they thy happy, wide domain extended,
Flourishing fearless!
Immortal mount, where first the brave, opposing,
Breasted the shock of battle’s pealing thunders,
Proud and undaunted!
Hither resort, with vows and festal offerings!
Here her rich altar Freedom first erected,
Here shall it still stand!
Here raise the song! and from your thrilling lyres,
On the soft air that fans this sacred summit,
Breathe heaven-taught numbers!
Loud strike the string! our fathers beatific,
Pleased, shall accept the tribute, whilst we loud sing
Warren and glory!