Yewho dwell in quiet hamlets,Ye who crowd the busy ways—All who love this great RepublicIn these dark, imperiled days,Does your Freedom never seemLike the beauty of a dream?Must the lightning’s flash and thunderOn our slumber glare and break,Ere from false and fleeting visionsWe to real danger wake?Must the earthquake’s heavy treadCrush us sleepers with the dead?Hear ye not succeeding ages,From their cloudy distance cry?See ye not the hands of nationsLifted toward the threat’ning sky?Now or never, rise and gainFreedom for this fair domain!We have vanquished foreign tyrants—Now the battle draws anear;Let not Despots have this boasting,That a Freeman knows to fear;By your Fathers’ patriot graves,Rise! nor be forever slaves!Speak! ye orators of Freemen,Let your thunder shake these plains;Write! ye editors of Freedom,Let your lightning rive these chains;Up! ye sons of Pilgrims, rise!Strike for Freedom, or she dies;Give this land to future agesFree, as God has made it free;Swear that not another acreShall be cursed with Slavery;Strike for Freedom and for right,God himself is Freedom’s might.
Yewho dwell in quiet hamlets,Ye who crowd the busy ways—All who love this great RepublicIn these dark, imperiled days,Does your Freedom never seemLike the beauty of a dream?Must the lightning’s flash and thunderOn our slumber glare and break,Ere from false and fleeting visionsWe to real danger wake?Must the earthquake’s heavy treadCrush us sleepers with the dead?Hear ye not succeeding ages,From their cloudy distance cry?See ye not the hands of nationsLifted toward the threat’ning sky?Now or never, rise and gainFreedom for this fair domain!We have vanquished foreign tyrants—Now the battle draws anear;Let not Despots have this boasting,That a Freeman knows to fear;By your Fathers’ patriot graves,Rise! nor be forever slaves!Speak! ye orators of Freemen,Let your thunder shake these plains;Write! ye editors of Freedom,Let your lightning rive these chains;Up! ye sons of Pilgrims, rise!Strike for Freedom, or she dies;Give this land to future agesFree, as God has made it free;Swear that not another acreShall be cursed with Slavery;Strike for Freedom and for right,God himself is Freedom’s might.
Yewho dwell in quiet hamlets,Ye who crowd the busy ways—All who love this great RepublicIn these dark, imperiled days,Does your Freedom never seemLike the beauty of a dream?
Yewho dwell in quiet hamlets,
Ye who crowd the busy ways—
All who love this great Republic
In these dark, imperiled days,
Does your Freedom never seem
Like the beauty of a dream?
Must the lightning’s flash and thunderOn our slumber glare and break,Ere from false and fleeting visionsWe to real danger wake?Must the earthquake’s heavy treadCrush us sleepers with the dead?
Must the lightning’s flash and thunder
On our slumber glare and break,
Ere from false and fleeting visions
We to real danger wake?
Must the earthquake’s heavy tread
Crush us sleepers with the dead?
Hear ye not succeeding ages,From their cloudy distance cry?See ye not the hands of nationsLifted toward the threat’ning sky?Now or never, rise and gainFreedom for this fair domain!
Hear ye not succeeding ages,
From their cloudy distance cry?
See ye not the hands of nations
Lifted toward the threat’ning sky?
Now or never, rise and gain
Freedom for this fair domain!
We have vanquished foreign tyrants—Now the battle draws anear;Let not Despots have this boasting,That a Freeman knows to fear;By your Fathers’ patriot graves,Rise! nor be forever slaves!
We have vanquished foreign tyrants—
Now the battle draws anear;
Let not Despots have this boasting,
That a Freeman knows to fear;
By your Fathers’ patriot graves,
Rise! nor be forever slaves!
Speak! ye orators of Freemen,Let your thunder shake these plains;Write! ye editors of Freedom,Let your lightning rive these chains;Up! ye sons of Pilgrims, rise!Strike for Freedom, or she dies;
Speak! ye orators of Freemen,
Let your thunder shake these plains;
Write! ye editors of Freedom,
Let your lightning rive these chains;
Up! ye sons of Pilgrims, rise!
Strike for Freedom, or she dies;
Give this land to future agesFree, as God has made it free;Swear that not another acreShall be cursed with Slavery;Strike for Freedom and for right,God himself is Freedom’s might.
Give this land to future ages
Free, as God has made it free;
Swear that not another acre
Shall be cursed with Slavery;
Strike for Freedom and for right,
God himself is Freedom’s might.