That tells me I shall crush the foe, and drive him from my ground.
The beaming WEST invites me on, with smiles of vermil hue,
And clouds of promise fill the sky, and deck its heavenly blue,
There is no breeze—there is no sign, in ocean, earth or sky,
That does not swell my breast with hope, or animate my eye.
If to the stormy beach I go, where heavy tempests play,
They tell me but, how warriors brave, should conquer in the fray.
All nature fills my heart with fires, that prompt me on to go,
To rush with rage, and lifted spear, upon my country's foe.