98
Sword of a thousand heroes, how holy is thy blade,
So often drawn by Valor's arm, by gentle Pity's stayed!
The warrior breathes his vow by thee, and seals it with a kiss,
He never gives a holier pledge, he asks no more than this;
And, when he girds thee to his side with battle in his face,
He feels within his single arm the strength of all his race;
He shrines thee in his noble breast, with all things bright and free;
And may God desert his standard, when he surrenders thee!
So often drawn by Valor's arm, by gentle Pity's stayed!
The warrior breathes his vow by thee, and seals it with a kiss,
He never gives a holier pledge, he asks no more than this;
And, when he girds thee to his side with battle in his face,
He feels within his single arm the strength of all his race;
He shrines thee in his noble breast, with all things bright and free;
And may God desert his standard, when he surrenders thee!
Sword of our country's battles! forever may'st thou prove,
Amid Columbia's freemen, the thunder-bolt of Jove;
Where like a youthful victress, with her holy flag unfurled,
She sits amid the nations, the empress of the world.
Behold the heaven-born goddess, in her glory and increase,
Extending in her lovely hands the olive-branch of peace,
Thy glittering steel is girded on, the safeguard of the free,
And may God desert her standard when she surrenders thee!
Amid Columbia's freemen, the thunder-bolt of Jove;
Where like a youthful victress, with her holy flag unfurled,
She sits amid the nations, the empress of the world.
Behold the heaven-born goddess, in her glory and increase,
Extending in her lovely hands the olive-branch of peace,
Thy glittering steel is girded on, the safeguard of the free,
And may God desert her standard when she surrenders thee!
