HARK! 't is Freedom that calls, come, patriots, awake! To arms, my brave boys, and away: 'T is Honor, 't is Virtue, 't is Liberty calls, And upbraids the too tedious delay. What pleasure we find in pursuing our foes, Thro' blood and thro' carnage we'll fly; Then follow, we'll soon overtake them, huzza! The tyrants are seized on, they die! Triumphant returning with Freedom secur'd, Like men, we'll be joyful and gay -- With our wives and our friends, we'll sport, love, and drink, And lose the fatigues of the day. 'T is freedom alone gives a relish to mirth, But oppression all happiness sours; It will smooth life's dull passage, 't will slope the descent, And strew the way over with flowers. |