Come for thy young bard in the throng,
Who stalks with levity along,
And gives a new key to much song,
Yankeeland, my Yankeeland!
This iron forms no tyrant’s chain,
Yankeeland!
Britannia now sends not in vain,
Yankeeland!
She greets her kindred o’er the main—
Slick transit! be the wild refrain