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Wm. McCarty, 1842 - National songs
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Page 157 - Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes...
Page 397 - When Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main ; This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain : " Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves!
Page 158 - ... blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee; — The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
Page 36 - Words of warning, words of dread, All, who meet me, have a care ! I am England's Guerriere.* On the wide, Atlantic deep (Not her equal for the fight) The Constitution, on her way, Chanced to meet these men of might : On her sails was nothing said, But her waist the teeth displayed That a deal of blood could shed, Which, if she would venture near, Would stain the decks of the Guerriere.
Page 261 - WHEN spring returns with western gales, And gentle breezes sweep The ruffling seas, we spread our sails To plough the wat'ry deep. For killing northern whales prepared, Our nimble boats on board, With craft and rum (our chief regard) And good provisions stored...
Page 305 - We court not her smiles, and will ne'er be her slaves; Her threats we defy. While our standard shall fly. Resolved, firm, and steady, We always are ready To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die. Tho...
Page 15 - And now their native coasts appear, Britannia's hills their summits rear Above the German main ; Fond to suppose their dangers o'er, "> They southward coast along the shore, Thy waters, gentle Thames, to gain. Full forty guns Seraphis bore, And...
Page 407 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry.
Page 24 - We shall capture half their fleet. " Lo ! I see their van appearing — Back our topsails to the mast : They toward us full are steering With a gentle western blast.
Page 15 - With him advanc'd the Countess bold, Like a black tar in wars grown old; And now these floating piles drew nigh ; But, muse, unfold what chief of fame In th

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