The gloomy night before us flies,
The reign of terror now is o'er;
Its gags, inquisitors, and spies,
Its herds of harpies are no more!
Rejoice, Columbia's sons, rejoice!
To tyrants never bend your knee,
But join with heart, and soul, and voice,
For Jefferson and Liberty!
No lordling here, with gorging jaws
Shall wring from industry the food;
Nor fiery bigot's holy laws
Lay waste our fields and streets in blood!
Here strangers from a thousand shores
Compelled by tyranny to roam,
Shall find amidst abundant stores,
A nobler and happier home.
Here Art shall lift her laurelled head,
Wealth, Industry, and Peace, divine;
And where dark, pathless forests spread,
Rich fields and lofty cities shine.
From Europe's wants and woes remote,
A friendly waste of waves between,
Here plenty cheers the humblest cot,
And smiles on every village green.
Here free as air, expanded space,
To every soul and sect shall be --
That sacred privilege of our race --
The worship of the Deity.
Let foes to freedom dread the name;
But should they touch the sacred tree,
Twice fifty thousands swords would flame
For Jefferson and liberty.
From Georgia to Lake Champlain,
From seas to Mississippi's shore,
Ye sons of freedom loud proclaim --
"The reign of terror is no more."
These gifts, great Liberty, are thine,
Then thousand more we owe to thee,
Immortal may their mem'ries shine,
Who fought and died for Liberty.
Sung to the Irish gig