’Tis the fortress of freedom, the hope of the earth;
Arouse you, ye sons of the East and the West,
To defend it, though blood flow from each gallant breast;
Remember, a noble old poet has said,
’Tis sweet, for our country, to sleep with the dead.
The noble young heroes, who rescue her name,
Columbia will crown, with the garland of fame;
If they fall, she will weep o’er their glorious scars,
And will lay them to rest ’neath her Banner of Stars;
We know the Volunteers will always be found