Here still an agèd elm aspires,

Beneath whose far projecting shade
(And which the shepherd still admires)
The children of the forest play'd!
There oft a restless Indian queen
(Pale Shebah, with her braided hair)
And many a barbarous form is seen
To chide the man that lingers there.
By midnight moons, o'er moistening dews,
In vestments for the chase array'd,
The hunter still the deer pursues,-
The hunter and the deer a shade!

And long shall timorous Fancy see
The painted chief, and pointed spear,
And Reason's self shall bow the knee
To shadows and delusions here.

JOSEPH HOPKINSON.*

Born at Philadelphia 1770-died 1842.

HAIL, COLUMBIA! (1798.)

HAIL, Columbia! happy land!
Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band!

Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause; Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, And when the storm of war was gone, Enjoy'd the peace your valour won.

Let independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies.
Firm, united, let us be,
Rallying round our Liberty;
As a band of brothers join'd,
Peace and safety we shall find.
*See Note 1.

Immortal patriots! rise once more;
Defend your rights, defend your shore;
Let no rude foe, with impious hand,
Let no rude foe, with impious hand,
Invade the shrine where sacred lies
Of toil and blood, the well-earn'd prize.
While offering peace sincere and just,
In Heaven we place a manly trust,
That truth and justice will prevail,
And every scheme of bondage fail.
Firm, united, &c.

Sound, sound the trump of Fame !
Let WASHINGTON's great name

Ring through the world with loud applause, Ring through the world with loud applause: Let every clime to Freedom dear

Listen with a joyful ear.

With equal skill, and godlike power,
He governs in the fearful hour

Of horrid war; or guides, with ease,
The happier times of honest peace.
Firm, united, &c.

Behold the chief who now commands,
Once more to serve his country, stands-
The rock on which the storm will beat,
The rock on which the storm will beat:
But, arm'd in virtue firm and true,
His hopes are fix'd on Heaven and you.
When Hope was sinking in dismay,
And glooms obscured Columbia's day,
His steady mind, from changes free,
Resolved on death or Liberty.
Firm, united, &c.

ROBERT TREAT PAINE.

Born at Taunton, Massachusetts, 1773-died 1811.

ADAMS AND LIBERTY.*

YE sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought

For those rights, which unstain'd from your sires had descended,

May you long taste the blessings your valour has bought,
And your sons reap the soil which their fathers defended.
'Mid the reign of mild Peace
May your nation increase,

With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece;
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

In a clime, whose rich vales feed the marts of the world,
Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion,
The trident of commerce should never be hurl'd,
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean.
But should pirates invade,
Though in thunder array'd,

Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade.
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway,
Had justly ennobled our nation in story,

"Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day,
And enveloped the sun of American glory.
But let traitors be told,

Who their country have sold,

And barter'd their God for his image in gold,

That ne'er will the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood,
And society's base threats with wide dissolution;

*See Note 2.

May Peace, like the dove who return'd from the Flood,
Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution.
But though peace is our aim,

Yet the boon we disclaim,

If bought by our sovereignty, justice, or fame.
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

'Tis the fire of the flint each American warms:

Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision; Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms; We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division. While, with patriot pride,

To our laws we're allied,

No foe can subdue us, no faction divide.

For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

Our mountains are crown'd with imperial oak,

Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourish'd ;

But long e'er our nation submits to the yoke,

Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourish'd. Should invasion impend,

Every grove would descend

From the hill-tops they shaded, our shores to defend.
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent worm;

Lest our liberty's growth should be check'd by corrosion; Then let clouds thicken round us; we heed not the storm; Our realm fears no shock but the earth's own explosion. Foes assail us in vain,

Though their fleets bridge the main,

For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain.
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,
Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder;

For, unmoved, at its portal would WASHINGTON stand,
And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of the thunder!
His sword, from the sleep

Of its scabbard would leap,

And conduct, with its point, every flash to the deep!
For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

Let Fame to the world sound America's voice;

No intrigues can her sons from their government sever; Her pride is her ADAMS; her laws are his choice, And shall flourish, till Liberty slumbers forever. Then unite heart and hand,

Like Leonidas' band,

And swear to the God of the ocean and land,

That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.

Born in Maryland 1779-died 1843.

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.*

O! SAY, can you see by the dawn's early light

What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming!

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air Gave proof through the night that our flag was still

there;

O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?

On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses ?

* See Note 3.