The Northern Hurrah.Air—Sprig of Shillaly.Oh, brave is the soul of a true Union man!He arms for the battle—he springs to the van,To the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!His heart bears no malice—his lips have no lie!For the old Constitution his pulses beat high;And in camp or in action, in march or at rest,’Tis the love of Our Union that leaps from his breastIn the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!Oh, the slogan of Scotland is startling and shrill,And the loud Marseillaise every Frenchman will thrill;But there’s never a shout like the Northern Hurrah!Let the Turkman cry “Allah!” while charging his foe—And the Briton, “St. George!” with each resolute blow;But the wildest of war-cries, the slogan most grand,Is the chorus that leaps from the heart of our landIn the war-shout of freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!From the mountains of Hampshire, the headlands of Maine,Alleghany’s blue peaks and Nevada’s high chain,Rolleth down, like the thunder, this Northern Hurrah;And the rocks and the vales, and the waters profound,And the forests and prairies re-echo the sound;And the voice of great cities, from east and from west,Swells the shout of the free for the land they love best,In a war-hymn for freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Air—Sprig of Shillaly.
Oh, brave is the soul of a true Union man!He arms for the battle—he springs to the van,To the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!His heart bears no malice—his lips have no lie!For the old Constitution his pulses beat high;And in camp or in action, in march or at rest,’Tis the love of Our Union that leaps from his breastIn the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!Oh, the slogan of Scotland is startling and shrill,And the loud Marseillaise every Frenchman will thrill;But there’s never a shout like the Northern Hurrah!Let the Turkman cry “Allah!” while charging his foe—And the Briton, “St. George!” with each resolute blow;But the wildest of war-cries, the slogan most grand,Is the chorus that leaps from the heart of our landIn the war-shout of freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!From the mountains of Hampshire, the headlands of Maine,Alleghany’s blue peaks and Nevada’s high chain,Rolleth down, like the thunder, this Northern Hurrah;And the rocks and the vales, and the waters profound,And the forests and prairies re-echo the sound;And the voice of great cities, from east and from west,Swells the shout of the free for the land they love best,In a war-hymn for freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Oh, brave is the soul of a true Union man!He arms for the battle—he springs to the van,To the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!His heart bears no malice—his lips have no lie!For the old Constitution his pulses beat high;And in camp or in action, in march or at rest,’Tis the love of Our Union that leaps from his breastIn the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!Oh, the slogan of Scotland is startling and shrill,And the loud Marseillaise every Frenchman will thrill;But there’s never a shout like the Northern Hurrah!Let the Turkman cry “Allah!” while charging his foe—And the Briton, “St. George!” with each resolute blow;But the wildest of war-cries, the slogan most grand,Is the chorus that leaps from the heart of our landIn the war-shout of freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!From the mountains of Hampshire, the headlands of Maine,Alleghany’s blue peaks and Nevada’s high chain,Rolleth down, like the thunder, this Northern Hurrah;And the rocks and the vales, and the waters profound,And the forests and prairies re-echo the sound;And the voice of great cities, from east and from west,Swells the shout of the free for the land they love best,In a war-hymn for freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Oh, brave is the soul of a true Union man!He arms for the battle—he springs to the van,To the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!His heart bears no malice—his lips have no lie!For the old Constitution his pulses beat high;And in camp or in action, in march or at rest,’Tis the love of Our Union that leaps from his breastIn the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Oh, brave is the soul of a true Union man!
He arms for the battle—he springs to the van,
To the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!
His heart bears no malice—his lips have no lie!
For the old Constitution his pulses beat high;
And in camp or in action, in march or at rest,
’Tis the love of Our Union that leaps from his breast
In the war-shout of freemen—the Northern Hurrah!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Oh, the slogan of Scotland is startling and shrill,And the loud Marseillaise every Frenchman will thrill;But there’s never a shout like the Northern Hurrah!Let the Turkman cry “Allah!” while charging his foe—And the Briton, “St. George!” with each resolute blow;But the wildest of war-cries, the slogan most grand,Is the chorus that leaps from the heart of our landIn the war-shout of freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Oh, the slogan of Scotland is startling and shrill,
And the loud Marseillaise every Frenchman will thrill;
But there’s never a shout like the Northern Hurrah!
Let the Turkman cry “Allah!” while charging his foe—
And the Briton, “St. George!” with each resolute blow;
But the wildest of war-cries, the slogan most grand,
Is the chorus that leaps from the heart of our land
In the war-shout of freedom—the Northern Hurrah!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
From the mountains of Hampshire, the headlands of Maine,Alleghany’s blue peaks and Nevada’s high chain,Rolleth down, like the thunder, this Northern Hurrah;And the rocks and the vales, and the waters profound,And the forests and prairies re-echo the sound;And the voice of great cities, from east and from west,Swells the shout of the free for the land they love best,In a war-hymn for freedom—the Northern Hurrah!Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
From the mountains of Hampshire, the headlands of Maine,
Alleghany’s blue peaks and Nevada’s high chain,
Rolleth down, like the thunder, this Northern Hurrah;
And the rocks and the vales, and the waters profound,
And the forests and prairies re-echo the sound;
And the voice of great cities, from east and from west,
Swells the shout of the free for the land they love best,
In a war-hymn for freedom—the Northern Hurrah!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!