Fear not, grand eagle,
The bay of the beagle!
No hunter his gun will incline!
He's branded with shame
Whoever takes aim
At thy freedom, a right divine!

Great bird, thou art king
Of all that bear wing!
And this was thy country of old!
'Way back in creation,
Before 'twas a nation,
Or known to Columbus, the bold.

With the red man, primeval,
Thy birthright's coeval,
By Deity given in feoff!
'Twas not his war bonnet,
But thy plumage on it,
Made the crown of the old Indian chief!

As the dove was the guide
To the ark on the tide,
To freedom thou ever hast been-
Flying out on the sea
To greet Liberty,
And pilot the Mayflower in!

The sunset red
On the white clouds shed
Made stripes for our goddess divine-
She stitching the bars,
Thou bringing the stars,
Completing the grand design.

'Twas thy sweeping wing
Did the first breath bring
To the sail of the old Constitution;
And from first to last
Thou didst wheel 'round her mast
In the smoke of the great Revolution.

Start not from thy poise
At that rumbling noise
When the lightning and storm disagree;
It is not a battle,
'Tis only the rattle
Of heaven's artillery.

From thine eyrie, the crag,
Watch over the flag,
And ne'er let it trail in the dust!
Soaring high in the air
Eaver this ægis bear:
'In Freedom and God is our Trust.'

Fear not, grand eagle,
The bay of the beagle!
No hunter his gun will incline!
He's branded with shame
Whoever takes aim
At thy freedom, a right divine!