Hail to the land of the free and the bold

Hail to the land of the free and the bold,
Where honor and justice have planted their throne,
Where the hearts of the meanest can never be sold,
But order and liberty reign there alone!
Hail to the souls that can never be slaves,
Who boast of the rights they have won by the sword,
Who fight for their forefathers' altars and graves,
And soar as the eagle who rescued them soared!

Hail to the land we have cherished so long, —
The soil where the bright tree of liberty grows!
May its root deeper sink, and its branches be strong,
While the wave of the ocean in majesty flows!
Long may we meet and be glad in its shade,
Secure from the tempests that madden the world;
Its leaves shall be green, and its flowers never fade,
And the starred flag, that tops it, be ever unfurled.

Hail to the cradle where liberty drew
The pure air that freemen alone can inhale!
Here the crowd never toiled for the gain of the few,
And the palace ne'er shadowed the cot in the vale:
We swore on our swords and our hearts to unite,
Till the chain should be broken, the slave should be free,
And the hands that are daring in battle for right,
To welcome as brothers, wherever they be.

Then hail to the nations, who wake from the sleep
Of a long night of darkness, like giants from wine,
To the heroes who rouse in their greatness, and leap
To gather the laurels on liberty's shrine!
Their fetters are broken, their tyrants are fled,
And the hands of the North and the South shall unite
To raise, o'er the tombs of the glorious dead,
A temple of honor, and crown it with light.
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