Slavery from his throne!
While, seizing Song's immortal lyre,
And girt afar with Heaven's Promethean fire,
Eternal Freedom, winged with prophecy,
Awakes, in swelling chords, the Anthem of the FREE.

V.

No more Conspiracy,
With Treason linked and Anarchy,
Shall dig, with secret joy, their country's grave.
No more thy waning cheek shall pale,
Thy trembling limbs with terror fail,
Thy bleeding wounds Heaven's balsam vainly crave.
Uplift thy forehead fair,
And mark the monstrous snare
Of subtle foes, who sucked thy fainting breath,
And yielding thee to the embrace of death,
Awaited the fulfilment of their reign,
To shed thy lovely limbs dismembered o'er the plain.

VI.

No more, degenerate,
And heedless of their darkening fate,
Shall thine own children revel in thy woes--
Enchained to Mammon's loathsome car,
Led on by War's red, baleful star,
No longer shall they sell thee to thy foes--
No more abandoned, bare,
Piercing with shrieks the air,
Thy millioned slaves shall lift on high
Their black, blank faces, dragging from the sky
The curse, which, riding on the viewless wind,
Sweeps Ruin's hurricane o'er all of human kind.

VII.

No longer in sad scorn
Shall Freedom wander forth forlorn,
Forsaking her false kingdom in the West,
Quitting a world too sunk in crime
To heed that glorious light sublime--
No longer shall she hide her burning crest--
No more her children's cries
In vain appeal shall rise,
While ruthless War's fierce earthquake shocks
With throes convulsive thy dominion's rock,
And tyrants, in their proud halls, celebrate
The anguish of a nation tottering to her fate.

VIII.

Thy courts no more defiled,
Thy people's hearts no more beguiled!
What foes, what dangers shall Columbia fear?
Prosperity and holy Peace
Within thy borders shall increase--
The Future's dawning glory draweth near!
The vine-clad South shall rest
Upon her brother's breast,
And, smiling in the glory of his worth,
Her teeming wealth and sunny gifts poured forth,
While tributes of the world's full treasures blent
With tides of plenty lave the love-girt continent!

IX.

Joy! Joy! Awake the strain,
And still repeat the glad refrain
Of Liberty, resounding to the sky.
Around thee float thy sacred dead,
Whose martyr blood f