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O say, thou great, exalted name!
What Muse can boast of equal lays,
Thy worth disdains all vulgar fame,
Transcends the noblest poet's praise.
Art soars, unequal to the flight,
And genius sickens at the height.

For States redeem'd our western reign
Restor❜d by thee to milder sway,
Thy conscious glory shall remain
When this great globe is swept away
And all is lost that pride admires,
And all the pageant scene expires.
PHILIP FRENEAU.

Early in January, word reached America that the definite treaty of peace had been signed at Paris on November 30, 1783. The independence of the United States was acknowledged; the Mississippi was set as the western boundary of the country, the St. Croix and the Great Lakes as the northern, and the Gulf of Mexico as the southern. On January 14, 1784, this treaty was ratified by Congress.

THE AMERICAN SOLDIER'S HYMN

"T is God that girds our armor on,
And all our just designs fulfils;
Through Him our feet can swiftly run,
And nimbly climb the steepest hills.

Lessons of war from Him we take,
And manly weapons learn to wield;
Strong bows of steel with ease we break,
Forced by our stronger arms to yield.

Tis God that still supports our right,
His just revenge our foes pursues;
"T is He that with resistless might,
Fierce nations to His power subdues.

Our universal safeguard He!
From Whom our lasting honors flow;
He made us great, and set us free
From our remorseless bloody foe.

Therefore to celebrate His fame,
Our grateful voice to Heaven we'll raise;
And nations, strangers to His name,
Shall thus be taught to sing His praise.

A day of solemn thanksgiving was set apart and universally observed throughout the country, which set its face toward the future, with a heart full of hope and high resolve.

THANKSGIVING HYMN

THE Lord above, in tender love,
Hath sav'd us from our foes;
Through Washington the thing is done,
The war is at a close.

America has won the day,

Through Washington, our chief; Come let's rejoice with heart and voice, And bid adieu to grief.

Now we have peace, and may increase
In number, wealth, and arts,
If every one, like Washington,

Will strive to do their parts.

Then let's agree, since we are free,
All needless things to shun;
And lay aside all pomp and pride,
Like our great Washington.

Use industry, and frugal be,

Like Washington the brave;
So shall we see, 't will easy be,
Our country for to save,

From present wars and future foes,
And all that we may fear;

While Washington, the great brave one,
Shall as our chief appear.

Industry and frugality

Will all our taxes pay;

In virtuous ways, we'll spend our days,
And for our rulers pray.

The Thirteen States, united sets,
In Congress simply grand;

The Lord himself preserve their health,
That they may rule the land.

Whilst every State, without its mate,
Doth rule itself by laws,
Will sovereign be, and always free;

To grieve there is no cause.

But all should try, both low and high,
Our freedom to maintain;
Pray God to bless our grand Congress,
And cease from every sin.

Then sure am I, true liberty

Of every sort will thrive;
With one accord we'll praise the Lord,
All glory to Him give.

LAND OF THE WILFUL GOSPEL

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Lo, Freedom reached forth where the world as an apple hung red;

Let us taste the whole radiant round of it, gayly she said:

If we die, at the worst we shall lie as the first of the dead.

Knowledge of Good and of Ill, O Land! she hath given thee;

Perilous godhoods of choosing have rent thee and riven thee;

Will's high adoring to Ill's low exploring hath driven thee

Freedom, thy Wife, hath uplifted thy life and clean shriven thee!

Her shalt thou clasp for a balm to the scars of thy breast,

Her shalt thou kiss for a calm to thy wars of unrest,

Her shalt extol in the psalm of the soul of the West.

For Weakness, in freedom, grows stronger than Strength with a chain;

And Error, in freedom, will come to lamenting his stain,

Till freely repenting he whiten his spirit

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PART III

THE PERIOD OF GROWTH

"OH MOTHER OF A MIGHTY RACE"

OH mother of a mighty race,
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!
The elder dames, thy haughty peers,
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame

And taunts of scorn they join thy name.

For on thy cheeks the glow is spread
That tints thy morning hills with red;
Thy step- the wild deer's rustling feet
Within thy woods are not more fleet;
Thy hopeful eye

Is bright as thine own sunny sky.

Ay, let them rail- those haughty ones,
While safe thou dwellest with thy sons.
They do not know how loved thou art,
How many a fond and fearless heart
Would rise to throw

Its life between thee and the foe.

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