To arms! To arms! ye brave!
The avenging sword unsheathe;
March on! March on! all hearts resolved
On victory or death.
Now, now the dangerous storm is rolling,
Which treacherous kings, confederate, raise;
The dogs of war, let loose, are howling,
And lo! our fields and cities blaze;
And shall we basely view the ruin,
While lawless force with guilty stride,