The Boston Patriotic Song Poem by Thomas Paine

The Boston Patriotic Song

Ye sons of Columbia who bravely have fought,
For those rights which unstain'd from your sires have descended.
May you long taste the blessings your valor has bought,
And your sons reap the soil which their fathers defended;
'Mid the reign of mild peace,
May your nation increase,
With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece;
And ne'er may the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.

In a clime whose rich vales feed the marts of the world,
Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion,
The trident of commerce should Bever be hurl'd,
To increase the legitimate power of the ocean;
But should pirates invade,
Though in thunder array'd,
Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade,
For ne'er shall the sons, etc.

The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway,
Had justly ennobled our Nation in story,
Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our bright day
And envelop'd the sun of American glory;
But let traitors be told,
Who their country have sold,
And barter'd their God for his image in gold,
That ne'er shall the sons, etc.
While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood,
And society's base threats with wide dissolution,
May Peace, like the dove who return'd from the flood,
Find an ark of abode in our mild Constitution;
But tho' peace is our aim,
Yet the boon we disclaim,
If bought by our sovereignty, justice, or fame.
For ne'er shall the sons, etc.
'Tis the fire of the flint each American warms,
Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision!
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms,
We're a World by ourselves, and disdain a division;
While with patriot pride,
To our laws we're allied,
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide;
For ne'er shall the sons, etc.
Our mountains are crown'd with imperial oak,
Whose roots like our liberty ages have nourish'd,
But long e'er the nation submits to the yoke,
Not a tree shall be left on the soil where it flourished.
Should invasion impend,
Every grove would descend,
From the hill tops they shaded, our shores to defend.
For ne'er shall the sons, etc.

Let our patriots destroy vile anarchy's worm,
Lest our liberty's growth should be check'd by corrosion,
Then let clouds thicken round us, we heed not the storm,
Our earth fears no shock but the earth's own explosion;
Foes assail us in vain,
Tho' their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars, and claims, with our lives we'll maintain.
For ne'er shall the sons, etc.

Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,
Its bolts can ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder;

For unmoved at its portals would Washington stand
And repulse with his breast the assaults of the thunder.
His sword from its sleep,
In its scabbard would leap,
And conduct with its point every flash to the deep.
For ne'er shall the sons, etc.

Let Fame to the world sound America's voice,
No intrigue her sons from their government can sever;
Its wise regulations and laws are their choice,
And shall flourish till Liberty slumber forever.
Then unite heart and hand,
Like Leonidas' band;
And swear by the God of the ocean and land,
That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.

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