William Bingham Tappan (1794–1849)

I SAW the goddess grasp her wand,

The symbol shone afar;

I saw her rear the severing brand,

The panoply of war.

From ocean’s isle, her hoary seat,

She smote the subject sea;

The billows tumbled at her feet;

Her name was Victory.

I saw, beyond Atlanta’s wild,

The heir of deathless fame,

Rude Persecution’s lovely child,

And Valour was her name.

Bright trophies, towering, form’d her crest,

Fresh laurels wreathed her hair;

’Twas Virtue fired her youthful breast;

’Twas Freedom flourish’d there.

Unarm’d, she dared the dreadful blow,

She shook Oppression’s throne;

Proud Valour met the insulting foe,

And Victory was her own!