1 MOURN for the thousands slain,
The youthful and the strong;
Mourn for the wine-cup's fearful reign
O'er the deluded throng.

2 Mourn for the ruined soul, -
For reason's life and light
Lost by the fiery, maddening bowl,
And turned to hopeless night.

8 Mourn for the lost; but call,

Call to the strong, the free:

Rouse them to shun that dreadful fall, And guard their liberty.

4 Mourn for the lost; but pray,
Pray to the Lord above,

To break the fell destroyer's sway,
And show his saving love.

2 And the heavy night hung dark, The hills and waters o'er,

When a band of exiles moored their hark On the wild New-England shore,

1 By cool Siloam's shady rill

How sweet the lily grows!

How sweet the breath beneath the hill Of Sharon's dewy rose !

2 Lo! such the child whose early feet

The paths of peace have trod; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.

By cool Siloam's shady rill

The lily must decay;

The rose that blooms beneath the hill
Must shortly fade away.

4 And soon, too soon, the wintry hour
Of man's maturer age

Will shake the soul with sorrow's power, And stormy passion's rage.

5 O Thou who giv'st us life and breath! We seek thy grace alone,

In childhood, manhood, age, and death, To keep us still thine own.

1 OH guard our shores from every foe,
With peace our borders bless,
With prosperous times our cities crown,
Our fields with plenteousness!

2 Unite us in the sacred love

Of knowledge, truth, and thee, And let our hills and valleys shout The songs of liberty.

3 Here may religion pure and mild Smile on our sabbath hours, And piety and virtue bless

The home of us and ours.

4 Lord of the nations, thus to thee
Our country we commend:
Be thou her refuge and her trust,
Her everlasting friend.