And earth’s little kingdoms before thee shall bow,
While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurled,
Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world.
Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o’erspread,
From war’s dread confusion, I pensively strayed,
The gloom from the face of fair heaven retired;
The winds ceased to murmur; the thunder expired;
Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along,
And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung,
“Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise;