TO THE TUNE OF "SMILE BRITANNIA."
RISE, rise, bright genius rise,
Conduct thy sons to war;
Thy spear pois'd to the skies,
Whirl, whirl, thy rapid car;
Fire each firm breast with noble zeal,
To conquer for the common weal.
For years the iron rod,
Has hover'd o'er our heads,
Submit to George's nod,
Whose power all Europe dreads;
The slavish minion trembling cries,
But freedom's sons all fears despise.
All means for peace we've tried,
But found those measures vain,
North's ministerial pride,
Thought fear made us complain
But in the end convinc'd he'll see,
We dread not death, but slavery.
Tho' fatal lust of power,
Has steel'd the tyrant's soul,
Tho' in an ill-timed hour,
He bid his thunders roll,
Great Liberty, inspir'd by thee,
We fly to death or victory !
Great nature's law inspires,
All free-born souls unite,
While common interest fires
Us to defend our rights,
Against corruption's boundless claim,
And firmly fix great freedom's reign.
They foreign troops employ,
For mercenary hire;
Their weakness we enjoy,
Each pulse new ardors fire;
Convinc'd the wretch who fights for pay,
Will never bear the palm away.
They boast their power by sea,
The ruin of our trade,
Our navy soon they'll see,
Wide o'er the ocean spread;
Britain not long shall boast her reign,
O'er the wide empire of the main.
Throughout the universe,
Our commerce we'll extend,
Each power on the reverse,
Shall seek to be our friends,
Whilst our sons, crown'd with wealth immense,
Sing Washington and Common Sense.