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Oh, death!" then she cried, "I am thine:

I tear off the roses of beauty; The grave of my hero is mine, For he died true to love and to duty ""


YE sons of Freedom, wake to glory! Hark! hark! what myriads bid you


Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,

Behold their tears and hear their cries Shall hateful tyrants, mischiefs breed ing,

With hireling hosts, a ruffian band, Affright and desolate the land, While peace and liberty lie bleeding To arms! to arms! ye brave! Th' avenging sword unsheath: March on, march on, all hearts resolved On victory or death.

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Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling,

Which treacherous kings confederate


The dogs of war, let loose, are howling, And, lo! our fields and cities blaze And shall we basely view the ruin, While lawless force, with guilty stride,

Spreads desolation far and wide, With crimes and blood his hands im


To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

With luxury and pride surrounded,

The vile insatiate despots dare— Their thirst of power and gold unbounded

To mete and vend the light and air. Like beasts of burden would they

load us,

Like gods, would bid their slaves adore:

But man is man, and who is more? Then shall they longer lash and goad us? To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

Oh! Liberty, can man resign thee, Once having felt thy generous flame? Can dungeons, bolts, and bars confine

Or whips thy noble spirit tame?

Too long the world has wept, bewailing
That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield:
But freedom is our sword and shield,
And all their arts are unavailing
To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

THE MERRY MOUNTAIN HORN COME, my gallant soldier, come:

Leave the proud embattled field, Shrilly fife, and rolling drum

All the pleasures war can yield. Quickly come-again behold

The happy land where thou wert

And hear its music-sweet and bold,
The merry mountain horn.
The merry mountain,
The merry mountain horn


In thy native valley find,
Far away from pomp and
Constant love and peace of mind,
Here, in bright affection's bower.
Quickly come, &c


UPON the hill he turn 'd, to take a last fond look

At the valley, and the village church, and the cottage by the brook; He listen'd to the sounds so familiar to his ear,

And the soldier lean'd upon his sword, and wiped away a tear.

Beside that cottage porch a girl was on her knees,

She held aloft a snowy scarf, which flutter'd in the breeze:

She breathed a prayer for him, a prayer he could not hear;

But he paused to bless her as she knelt, and wiped away a tear.

He turn'd and left the spot-oh! do not deem him weak,

For dauntless was the soldier's heart, though tears were on his cheek. Go watch the foremost ranks in danger's dark career

Be sure the hand most daring there has wiped away a tear.


My boat is on the shore,

And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore,

Here's a double health to thee

Here's a sigh for those that love,

And a smile for those who hate, And whatever sky's above,

Here's a heart for every fate.

Though the ocean roars around me, Yet it still shall bear me on; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won

Wer't the last drop in the well,
As I gasp upon the brink,
Ere my sinking spirits fell,

'Tis to thee that I would drink

In this water as this wine,

The libations I would pour Should be peace to thee and thine, And a health to thee, Tom Moore

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