Classic Poem

C OLUMBIA , take thy tuneful harp again,
And wake in rapture thine accustomed strain,
The numbers rise and swell in grandeur on,
For oh, the kindling theme is Washington!
First of the brave! he stemmed oppression's tide,
And toiling for his country, lived and died,
Bade the red banner float above the plain,
And then resumed a life of peace again;
Ruled o'er a nation with paternal sway,
While each fond heart was joyous to obey;
Left his sage counsels to the land he saved,
Then death's grim terrors, as a Christian braved,
And sank from sight like yonder setting sun,
Immortal, though his race below was run—
Bequeathed a character without a stain,
Which even scandal tries to blot in vain.
His recompense, a shining crown on high,
His meed below, a name that may not die.
Praise to the hero of the Western World!
Columbia, be thy flag with joy unfurled,
And, as thou gazest on the stripe and star,
And hearest anthem-peals resound afar,
Oh, bless that father's God, who saw thy woe,
The anguish which thy heart could only know,
And sent thee one who snapt the galling chain,
And bade thee roam unfettered once again—
Yes, pray that God, thy wall of fire may prove,
And keep thee still, a monument of love;
Then, to thy sons, shall bright success be given,
And this fair land be owned and blest by heaven.