William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Song of the RevolutionEdward M. Paxton
C
Your banners fling out,
Till the mountain’s top
Gives back your shout.
The trumpet is sounding
O’er valley and glen;
The sword is unsheath’d
For the murder of men!
Death to the tory,
Torture and shame!
Death to the tory,
Fagot and flame!
That we shall not be free,
His vengeance is roused
For the waste of his tea!
His troops throng our cities,
His vessels our ports,
And waves his proud flag
From the tops of our forts!
Death to the tory, &c.
As he sitteth on high,
And the words which he utters
Are, “Worship or die!”
And gayly he sits
Mid the banqueting throng,
And listens with joy
To the reveller’s song.
Death to the tory, &c.
And his power is shaken,
And the people at last
From their slumber awaken;
For their blood has been shed
On the green grass sod,
And no power now rules them
Save that of their God!
Death to the tory,
Torture and shame!
Death to the tory,
Fagot and flame!