Boast not, my native spot, thy sons were first
To shed their blood in Freedom's noble cause;
Nor glory when thou hear'st the tale rehearst,
Though all the world should greet thee with applause.
Another day has come, another age,
And rights by blood and strife no more are won;
Awake! and write thee on a holier page,
Nor boast with warriors what thy sword has done.
Scorn, as thou ever hast, to build thy walls
Upon a suffering neighbor's hapless lot;
Heed Peace, Humanity, and Justice's calls;
And, when in coming ages are forgot
The strife of war and every blood-stained field,
Thy Name alone undying fame shall yield!