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A War Song for the Texan Volunteers.


Written by Caleb Lyons, Esq., in New York, May 18th, 1846.


The blood of our brethren yet cries from the ground
Revenge, and our country doth echo the sound;
O'er hill-top and valley, o'er forest and plain,
The loud shout of freemen rolls on to the main.
Montezuma's decendants will raise the glad cry
"The Saxons are coming, our freedom is nigh."

We'll conquer the land where Mexican reigns,
And break for the people their cankering chains --


Too long hath proud tyrants been lording it o'er
That lovely, long-fettered and beautiful shore,
And blest be the people that down-trodden cry --
"The Saxons are coming, our freedom is nigh."

We'll avenge every wrong, every stain wipe away,
And children unborn will yet bless the proud day,
When our nation uprose, as a man, sword in hand,
And defended our soil from a merciless band,
While the Aztec will shout, as a hymn to the sky --
"The Saxons are coming, our freedom is nigh."

Brave soldiers, to arms! ye are valiant and strong,
Come shoulder the rifle, the sword buckle on;
Arouse in your might -- let the Empire State feel
A wild thrill of pride in your patriot zeal;
While the peals of our cannon will thunder on high --
"The Saxons are coming, and freedom is nigh."

The vultures have fed on the bones of our brave,
Our soldiers now bleed by the Rio Grande's wave,
But when Eagle meets Eagle, in bristling array,
By the blood of our fathers, we'll conquer that day;
God's voice, in the people's, comes whispering by --
"The Saxons are coming, and freedom is nigh."

Then up with our banner, the pride of the bold --
Unconquered, victorious, it floated of old;
It blinded the eyes of grim despots to see
The light of its stars o'er the shores of the free --
And now it will vanquish -- aye, raise it on high
Upheld by the Saxons, who'll conquer or die.



1. "Vox Populi, Vox Dei."