Our Flag is Floating on the Breeze.

141

Air — "Our sails are filling to the breeze."

OUR flag is floating on the breeze,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah;
O'er mountains, valleys, lakes, and seas;
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah;
Our rallying cry — a magic word,
From Maine to Michigan is heard;
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah;
Hurrah for Harrison!

Press on, press on with Harrison,
Hurrah, &c.
The hero who so oft hath won;
Hurrah, &c.
With such a leader in the field,
The foes of freedom soon must yield,
Hurrah, &c.

142

Comes from the east the stirring cry,
Hurrah, &c.
In trumpet tones of victory;
Hurrah, &c.
The south gives back the cheering shout
Dispelling fear, dissolving doubt.
Hurrah, &c.

Comes from the north the thrilling peal,
Hurrah, &c.
Stand by him, Whigs, be true as steel;
Hurrah, &c.
Let recreant cowards turn and flee,
We go for death or victory.
Hurrah, &c.

Comes from the west in thunder tone,
Hurrah, &c.
"He is our best, our chosen one,"
Hurrah, &c.
East, west, north, south, — united won
Their love for gallant Harrison.
Hurrah, &c.