BY WILLIAM P. MULCHINOCK.
———
Air—“Some love to roam o’er the dark sea-foam.”
Fill high to-night, in our halls of light,
The toast on our lips shall be
“The sinewy hand, the glittering brand,
Our homes and our altars free.”
Ho! ho! ho! etc.
Though the coward pale, like a girl may wail,
And sleep in his chains for years,