The sight entrancing

O the sight entrancing,

When morning's beam is glancing

O'er files array'd

With helm and blade,

And plumes in the gay wind dancing.

When hearts are all high beating,

And the trumpet's voice repeating

That song whose breath

May lead to death,

But never to retreating.

Then if a cloud comes over

The brow of sire or lover,

Think 'tis the shade

By vict'ry made,

Whose wings right o'er us hover.

Yet 'tis not helm or feather

For ask yon despot whether

His plumèd bands

Could bring such hands

And hearts as ours together.

Leave pomps to those who need 'em,

Adorn but man with freedom,

And proud he braves

The gaudiest slaves

That crawl where monarchs lead 'em.

The sword may pierce the beaver,

Stone walls in time my sever,

'Tis mind alone,

Worth steel and stone,

That keeps men free for ever!