CHORUS. Firm, united, let us be, rallying round our liberty; As a band of brothers joined, peace and safety we shall find. Immortal patriots, rise once more, defend your rights, defend your shore. Let no rude foe, with impious hand, Let no rude foe, with impious hand, Invade the shrine where sacred lies, of toil and blood the well-earned prize. While offering peace sincere and just, in heaven we place a manly trust, That truth and justice will prevail, and every shame of bondage fail. Firm, united, let us be, &c. Sound, sound the trump of fame! let WASHINGTON’S great name Ring through the world with loud applause, Ring through the world with loud applause, Let every clime to Freedom dear, listen with a joyful ear. With equal skill and God-like-power, he govern’d in the fearful hour, Of horrid war! or guides, with ease, the happier times of honest peace. Firm united let us be, &c. Behold the chief who now commands, again to serve his country stands-- The rock on which the storm will beat, The rock on which the storm will beat; But armed in virtue firm and true, his hopes are fix’d on Heaven and you. When hope was sinking in dismay, and glooms obscured Columbia’s day, His steady mind, from changes free, resolved on death or liberty. Firm united let us be, &c. True Blue is the Color for Me. 56 There are fifty fine colors that flaunt and flare, All pleasant and gay to see, But of all the fine colors that dance in the air, True Blue’s the color for me. True Blue is the color of good true love, For it melts in woman’s eye, True Blue is the color of heaven above, For it beams in the azure sky. True Blue is the vest that Nature free Has spread round the joyous earth, True Blue is the hue of the dancing sea, As it gave to beauty birth. True Blue, it flows in the soft blue vein Of a bosom that’s fair and true, As the violet, soften’d by heaven’s own rain, Is tinged with the heavenly hue. True Blue, it is seen in the distant vale, Where the fond hearts love to roam, It curls in the smoke from the shelter’d dale, As it guides the wanderer home. True Blue hangs glorious over the wave, From a thousand ships unfurl’d, It clothes the breast of the Yankees brave, As they bear it round the world. And when the skies grow dark, and wild winds yell, If he sees but a streak of blue, The steersman is glad, for he knows all’s well, And his guardian angel’s true.