Hail our country's natal morn!
Hail our spreading kindred born!
Hail thou banner not yet torn!
Waving o'er the free;
While, this, day, in festal throng,
Millions swell the patriot song,
Shall not we thy notes prolong,
Who would sever Freedom's shrine?
Who would draw the invidiuous line?
Though by birth one spot is mine,
Dear is all the rest:
Dear to me the South's fair land,
233Dear the central mountain band,
Dear New England's rocky strand,
Dear the prairied West.
By our alters, pure and free,
By our law's deep-rooted tree,
By the past, dread memory,
By our WASHINGTON;
By our common parent-tongue,
By our hopes, bright, buoyant, young,
By the tie of country, strong,
We will still be one.
Fathers! have ye bled in vain?
Ages! must ye droop again?
Maker! shall we rashly stain
Blessings sent by thee?
No! receive our solemn vow,
While before thy throne we boy,
Ever to maintain, as now,