Should the Tempests of War overshadow our land,
Its bolts could not rend Freedom's temple asunder;
For, unmoved, at the portal, would George Washington stand,
And repulse, with his Breast, the a**aults of the thunder!
His sword, from the sleep
Of its scabbard would leap,
And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep!
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant and the sea rolls a wave.
Let Fame to the world sound America's voice;
No intrigue can her sons from the government sever;
For her pride is John Adams; his laws are her choice,
And shall flourish, till Liberty slumbers for ever.
Then unite heart in hand,
Like Leonidas's band,
And swear to the God of ocean and land;
That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant and the sea rolls a wave.