Hark! foams again the Borean rage,
Stern pow'r! relentless, hoar'd with age,
Antiquity thy terrors saw,
And modern worlds obey the law.
Despot! from COLUMBIA-away!
Her sons abhor despotic sway;
For her the Phœbian God displays
'The blazon of celestial rays,
Flashes immortal beams! inspires
The God-like warmth of Freedom's fires!
Go rule the Lap, the Fin, the Russ,
The barb'rous Goth, but rule not us.
Let beauteous Spring with lib'ral hand
Her flow'rs scatter o'er our land,
While Summer blithe and Autumn gay,
In the verdant meadows play;
Methinks already I survey
As beneath some oak I lay,
The shepherd, softly, as they stray
To the coy maid, his tender tale betray,
At beauty's shrine his homage pay,
the truth he fears to say:
While Summer blithe with Autumn gay,
In the verdant meadows play,
May beaut❜ous Spring with blooming hand
Shed roses sweet o'er MARYLAND;
Columbia blest beneath their
Smiles the fair sister, queen'st obey.
And nature's blushing face owns the perennial day!
But lo! th' Arcadian scene recedes,
Nor blooms the fields, nor laughs the meads,
No sound is heard of tuneful reeds,
But nature's wounded bosom bleeds.
He hears me not-the stormy king!
NO ORPHEUS 'tis who sweeps the string,
Else as immortal poets say,
Nature would instantly obey.
The leafless trees, and fields so drear,
Th' inclement season of the year,
Distressful Winter dulls the scene,
Fills half the city folks with spleen.
Boy! heap more wood upon the fire,-
Come all on earth whom I desire,
My darling LYDIA fill my glass,
Now drink one half-my bonny lass;
Now join those nectar lips with mine,
Inspire me with a look divine,
And dost thou mourn that bloody Mars,
Should fill the world with guilty wars ?
And dost thou, charming Maid, deplore
The brave who died for Baltimore ?
Too noble to the foe to yield,
They died in honours glorious field!
Far from the strifes and toils of this,
Inhabit now the realms of bliss.
"Ah! who can tell, how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar.”
What names are on the rolls of fame,
Whose glories does the pow'r proclaim?
Muse, her favourite sons unfold:
"In brilliant characters of gold,
"Illustrious JACKSON chieftain bold!
"Who bade the flag of vict'ry wave
"Where Orleans views the Britons grave.
Immortal BROWN, where heroes war,
His is a place in vict❜ry's car.
"DECATUR taught the stubborn Dey,
"Columbia's mandate to obey:
"He broke the slavish iron chain,
"Bade weeping captives smile in Freedom's land again.
"The rolls of Fame with names are full,
"RODGERS, PORTER, BAINBRIDGE, HULL,
"Your names in golden letters glow
"With BURROWS, PERRY, JONES, and M'DONOUGH,
"But endless were the task for me,
"T' enum'rate all their names to thee,
"Of those whose glorious fates appear
"By Fame belov'd, to Glory dear,
"Many who live, and many more
Who bravely died for Baltimore."
"What fate malicious kept thee far,
"Young minstrel, from the seat of War?
“And under burning zones confin'd
"A patriot's soul, and ardent mind?
"His country was thy father's pride,
"And in her honour'd cause-he died!
"O did oblivion's current roll
"Its tides LETHEAN o'er thy soul ?"
Forget the land which gave me birth!
This hallow'd portion of the earth!
Where INDEPENDENCE loves to live,
And Freedom's sacred fire to thrive,
O Muse! should such a day arrive,
Me of my much lov'd lyre deprive-
Nor once a dastard's breast inspire
With one small spark of heav'nly fire!
Had I a thousand lives to save,
I'd yield those thousand to the grave,
In my country's glorious cause,
To preserve her Freedom-Laws.
Let but the day of danger come,
The battle's field shall be my home;
With my last throb, and latest sigh,
I'll glory in the cause I die.
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