Columbia's vain sons, long deluded by France,
Have dar'd to the conflict the lords of the main;
Britannia, insulted, cried, 'Warriors advance!
Ah! let not the shades of your fathers complain!''
This call made their shores echo loudly our cannon,
For Broke led the band, and the word was, 'be free!''
Then while by the
Chesapeake
, or by the
Shannon
,
The ocean's supplied, we the rulers will be!

Old Neptune enrag'd, when he heard what was plann'd
By upstarts, unknown in the annals of fame,
Bade his sons of the waves match their brethren on land,
Nor let one dark record e'er sully the name:
Soon one sought their shore, struck the young states with wonder,
He'd prove Britons firm as their own native oak;
And scarce the proud foe heard the sound of our thunder,
Till Britons struck home, led the way by a Broke!

Long, long such great deeds may posterity boast!
Long, long be such themes the delight of each Bard!
Be grateful to those who protect our white coast--
The love of his country's the hero's reward!
While a Broke leads our tars, and loud echoes their thunder,
No laws foreign tyrants to Britons shall give;
Our deeds, as of old, shall strike Europe with wonder,
And free as the air on our mountains we'll live!