John M’Creary

A Song composed by Mr. John M’Creary, of Petersburg, Virginia, and sung at that place the Fourth of July, 1815

NO more the loud tones of the trumpet resound,

No more the war-bugle’s wild notes strike the ear;

Our warriors return from the battle renown’d,

To the bosom of friendship and families dear.

Mild Peace round her flings

Balmy sweets from her wings,

The welkin with echoes of happiness rings;

Come, toast our brave heroes, and swear, this great day

We will hand down in glory till time pass away.

The Briton, enraged, had proclaim’d, in his pride,

To erase the strong fabric our sires had erected;

To pollute the fair fane for which millions have died,

To destroy Freedom’s temple, by freemen protected.

Boasting loud, o’er the wave

Come his Wellingtons brave,

Ah! who shall the green tree of liberty save?

Mark the eagle of Freedom, his banners unfurl’d,

His eye on the sun, while suspense chains the world.

From a thousand ships pouring, his conquerors of France

Debouch on our plains in the dread pomp of war;

Confiding in conquest, they gayly advance;

Their deep-mouth’d artillery thunders afar;

Near Niagara’s roar

The parch’d earth drank their gore—

Our heroes their garbs triumphantly wore.

Brown, Scott, Gaines, and Ripley their falchions raised high,

Their resolve—“We will conquer, or gloriously die.”

See, the sons of the west! like a dark cloud of night,

With eagerness forth from their deep forests throng;

Their death-tubes of terror prepared for the fight,

Like their own Mississippi, impetuous and strong.

’Tis Jackson who leads

Them to glorious deeds,

Where the vaunting invader in agony bleeds:

Come, toast then our heroes, we swear this great day

We will hand down, in glory, till time pass away.