No more, degenerate, And heedless of their darkening fate, Shall thine own children revel in thy woes-- Enchained to Mammon's loathsome car, Led on by War's red, baleful star, No longer shall they sell thee to thy foes-- No more abandoned, bare, Piercing with shrieks the air, Thy millioned slaves shall lift on high Their black, blank faces, dragging from the sky The curse, which, riding on the viewless wind, Sweeps Ruin's hurricane o'er all of human kind. VII. No longer in sad scorn Shall Freedom wander forth forlorn, Forsaking her false kingdom in the West, Quitting a world too sunk in crime To heed that glorious light sublime-- No longer shall she hide her burning crest-- No more her children's cries In vain appeal shall rise, While ruthless War's fierce earthquake shocks With throes convulsive thy dominion's rock, And tyrants, in their proud halls, celebrate The anguish of a nation tottering to her fate. VIII. Thy courts no more defiled, Thy people's hearts no more beguiled! What foes, what dangers shall Columbia fear? Prosperity and holy Peace Within thy borders shall increase-- The Future's dawning glory draweth near! The vine-clad South shall rest Upon her brother's breast, And, smiling in the glory of his worth, Her teeming wealth and sunny gifts poured forth, While tributes of the world's full treasures blent With tides of plenty lave the love-girt continent! IX. Joy! Joy! Awake the strain, And still repeat the glad refrain Of Liberty, resounding to the sky. Around thee float thy sacred dead, Whose martyr blood for thee was shed, Whose angel choirs, celestial, hover nigh! Joy! Joy! No longer weep: Rich harvests shalt thou reap, Whose seeds, in tears and anguish sown, With bounteous rapture thy rich feasts shall crown, When, rising to fulfil thy destiny, Thou leadest the nations on to Peace and Liberty. X. Hail then to thee, great day, Bright herald of the coming sway Of Truth immortal and immortal Love-- Uplift in fuller strains thy voice, Call all the nations to rejoice, And grasp thy olive--Time's long-promised dove! No longer tempest-tost, Redeem dark ages lost; And may the work by thee begun Ne'er pause nor falter 'till yon rising sun Beholds the flag of Promise, now unfurled 'Neath Freedom's conquering smile, extending o'er the world. THE SURRENDER OF FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP, ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI.