Hymns And Odes Iii Poem by John Pierpont

Day of glory! welcome day!
Freedom's banners greet thy ray;
See! how cheerfully they play
With thy morning breeze,
On the rocks where pilgrims kneeled,
On the heights where squadrons wheeled,
When a tyrant's thunder pealed
O'er the trembling seas.


God of armies! did thy 'stars
In their courses' smite his cars,
Blast his arm, and wrest his bars
From the heaving tide?
On our standard, lo! they burn,
And, when days like this return,
Sparkle o'er the soldier's urn
Who for freedom died.


God of peace!-whose spirit fills
All the echoes of our hills,
All the murmurs of our rills,
Now the storm is o'er;-
O, let freemen be our sons;
And let future Washingtons
Rise, to lead their valiant ones,
Till there 's war no more.


By the patriot's hallowed rest,
By the warrior's gory breast,-
Never let our graves be pressed
By a despot's throne;
By the Pilgrims' toils and cares,
By their battles and their prayers,
By their ashes,-let our heirs
Bow to Thee alone.