I heard a bitter sigh
Break from a mother's breast,
And knew it was my country's voice
That thus her sons addrest,-
'Ye are my crown of hope,-
Dim not its peerless ray,-
Ye are the sinews of my strength,-
Cast not that strength away.
There is a fiery cup,-
Whose ministry of wo
Can melt the spirit's purest pearl,
And lay the mightiest low.
Turn from its treacherous tide,
Repel its siren claim,
Nor make me 'mid the nations blush,
And mourn my children's shame.
And will ye, in the fire
That 's in the wine cup brought,
The record of my fame consume,
By blood and suffering bought?-
And will ye cast a stain
Upon my banner's ray,
Which all the rivers of your realm
Can never wash away?'