From your mountains quick advance Hearts of oak and iron arms— Lo! the cheering sounds from France Spread amid the foe alarms! Leave the scythe and seize the sword, Brave the worst of dangers! Freedom is the only word— _Come and join the Rangers!_ From “The Green Mountain Boys’ Song,” composed, apparently, in the early part of the contest, we have space for the chorus only. Though less poetical than some others, the entire production is animated in sentiment and smoothly versified. We have no clue to its authorship, though, like “The Rallying Song,” “The American Rifleman,” and many other lyrics of the same description, it appears to have been written in Vermont. Then draw the trusty blade, my boys, And fling the sheath away— Blow high, blow low, come weal, come wo, Strike for America! Strike for America, my boys, Strike for America! Come weal, come wo, blow high, blow low, Strike for America! We have discovered but one narrative song relating to the Battle of Trenton, and that was probably written a year or two after the event. BATTLE OF TRENTON. On Christmas day in ’76, Our rugged troops with bayonets fix’d, For Trenton marched away. The Delaware see, the boats below, The light obscured by hail and snow, But no signs of dismay. Our object was the Hessian band, That dared invade fair Freedom’s land, And quarter in that place. Great Washington he led us on, Whose streaming flag, in storm or sun, Had never known disgrace. In silent march we pass’d the night, Each soldier panting for the fight, Though quite benumb’d with frost. Greene on the left, at six began, The right was with brave Sullivan, Who ne’er a moment lost. Their pickets storm’d, the alarm was spread, That rebels risen from the dead Were marching into town. Some scamper’d here, some scamper’d there, And some for action did prepare, But soon their arms laid down. Twelve hundred servile miscreants, With all their colors, guns and tents, Were trophies of the day. The frolic o’er, the bright canteen, In centre, front, and rear was seen Driving fatigue away. Now, brothers of the patriot bands, Let’s sing deliverance from the hands Of arbitrary sway. And as our life is but a span, Let’s touch the tankard while we can, In memory of that day.