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The Nationals' Hymn.



AIR: -- "The Beautiful Hills."

We've a land of wealth spread from sea to sea,
Covered o'er with fruits and flowers;
And mines well filled with all that need to be
To bring forth our industrial powers.
But the scheming few who despise and hate
The brawny sons of toll in all lands,
Are rearing by law an idle profligate
To sap all the product of his hands.

Chorus -- Then let the oppressed go free,
We'll have no bonds any more;
We will labor's rights defend,
And Columbia we'll free once more.

Our land is oppressed by corporate schemes,
Which the selfishness of men have bred;
And the cherished hopes of all life's dreams
With labor and enterprise is dead.
But the moral power of the people is strung,
When they rise up with all their might
They will vote a protest against the wrong,
They will do and dare for the right.

Chorus --

We have roving tramps, and mobs and strikes;
The sheriffs are selling homes and farms;
We're drifting back into anarchy's night
And assaulting starvation with arms,
But the shout defiant of this money king
Is heard for gold on every hand,
The interest eating bondholders ring
Is enslaving all in the land.

Chorus --

Then let us rise our old flag once more,
For free speech, free schools, and free press;
And spread the tidings from shore to shore
That we yet vote to free the oppressed.
Equity and justice o'er all this land
Shall yet rule as in days of yore,
United are we in a national band
To preserve our Republic once more.