And gladder yet than the chime of old
That once the birth of our nation told:
For thou dost tell of a race set free.
Thou dost tell of the Jubilee!
III.
Ring, ring, and thy music fling,
As thou dost sway, and quiver, and swing!
Peal o’er the town with its din of men,
Wake the echoes in lonely glen!
Ring by Cumberland’s classic tide,