Hymn.

31

Spirit of Freemen, wake;
No truce with Slavery make,
Thy deadly foe;
In fair disguises dress'd,
Too long hast thou caress'd
The serpent in thy breast;
Now lay him low.

Sons of the free! we call
On you, in field and hall,
To rise as one;
Your heav'n-born rights maintain,
Nor let oppression's chain
On human limbs remain;
Speak, and 'tis done.