Bright Day,that did to France restore What priests and kings had seiz'd away, That bade her generous sons disdain The fetters that their fathers wore,
The titled slave, a tyrant's sway, That ne'er shall curse her soil again! Bright day! a partner in thy joy, Columbia hails the rising sun,
She feels her toils, her blood repaid, When fiercely frantic to destroy, ( Proud of the laurels he had won ) The Briton, here, unsheath'd his blade.
By traitors driven to ruin's brink Fair Freedom dreads united knaves, The world must fall if she must bleed;— And yet, by heaven! I'm proud to think
The world was ne'er subdued by slaves — Nor shall the hireling herd succeed. Boy! fill the generous goblet high; Success to France, shall be the toast:
The fall of kings the fates foredoom, The crown decays, its’ splendours die; And they, who were a nation's boast, Sink, and expire in endless gloom.
Thou, stranger, from a distant shore, Where fetter'd men their rights avow, Why on this joyous day so sad? Louis insults with chains no more,—
Then why thus wear a clouded brow, When every manly heart is glad? Some passing days and rolling years May see the wrath of kings display'd,
Their wars to prop the tarnish'd crown; But orphans’ groans, and widows’ tears, And justice lifts her shining blade To bring the tottering bauble down.
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