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2 Save from all intoxication,

From its fountain may we flee,
When assail'd by strong temptation

Put our trust alone in thee.

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1 TOW, O Lord, in peace dismiss us,

May we all rejoicing go ;
With thy favour richly bless us,
Whilst we sojourn here below,

And conduct us

Through this world of sin and wo 2 Never in our zeal abating,

May we ever onward press;
Ways of vile intemp'rance hating,
'Till we've cross'd this wilderness,

Then receive us

To a world of endless bliss.
3 May we all hy truth united,

Rally round the temp’rance cause ;
Until every soul benighted,
Shall obey the Saviour's laws,

And delighted
Ever bear his hallow'd cross,

J. Burns


L. M.

To God Father, God the Son,
And God the Spirit three in one,
Be honor, praise and glory given,
By all on earth and all in heaven.






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Awake for thy foe is oppressing thee sore; Down the dark stream of intemp’rance what numbers,

Are urging their way to eternity's shore ! Land of Columbia ! awake from thy slumbers, Awake, e'er thou fall to recover no more. Land of Columbia ! thy sons are enslaved,

A tyrant infernal has bound them in chains; Arise in thy might, let thy children be saved,

Expel the dread foe from thy mountains and plains. Land of Columbia! thy sons are enslaved, Awake, e'er they sink where despair ever reigns. Land of Columbia! the morning hath gleamed,

The day-star of temp'rance ascendeth the skies ; Awake to the light that from heaven hath beamed,

No more let the darkness o'ershadow thine eyes. Land of Columbia ! the morning hath gleamed, Now, hail its bright rays with soul-cheering cries. Land of Columbia ! awake to thy glory!

And let thy blest influence be felt the world o'er ! Awake, till intemp’rance be known but in story,

Awake, till its woes shall oppress thee no more! Land of Columbia! awake to thy glory! AWAKE!! and the foe SHALL OPPRESS THEE NO MORR.


THROUGHOUT Columbia's borders,

Without control, its numbers roll,

Dispelling gloom and sadness.
'Tis the sweet song of temp'rance,

O'er hill and vale it boundeth ;
Throughout the land, on every hand,

The joyful news resoundeth.
As on the wings of morning,

The cheering anthem flyeth,
Its notes are sung by many a tongue,

The concert never dieth;
But temp'rance, temp'rance, temp'rance,

O'er every hill-top boundeth ;
On land and main, the glorious strain

Unceasingly resoundeth.
Far o'er Atlantic's billows,

The raptrous theme is ringing ;
In cheerful songs, ten thousand tongues,

Its glorious strains are singing:
While Erin's verdant island,

With swelling acclamation ;
In concert loud, ascribes to God

Her great regeneration !
Soon shall the cruel tyrant,

From his high throne be driven ;
Each galling chain be broke in twain,

And every link be riven :
Then temp'rance, peace, and virtue,

Shall reign o'er earth victorious ;
Our flag unfurled, throughout the world,

Shall wave in triumph glorious !



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Virtue's fair daughter, water's bright queen,

Nurse of soft slumbers,

Guardian of youth,
Friend to sweet numbers,

Teacher of truth,
List while we sing softly into thine ear;
Oh! keep us united; oh! make us sincere.
Lend, gentle goddess, oh! lend us thine aid;
It is of ourselves, of ourselves we'er afraid ;

Make us love water,

Thou saver of gains ;
Make us love water,

Thou cooler of brains.
The wish for perfection our bosom inspires ;
Oh! make us whatever thy service requires.

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VRIENDS of man and foes to madness,
Speak! behold a nations sadness :

not the foe around?
Lift on high the temp’rance banner,

Freemen! freemen! to your post ;
Hear the victims how they stammer!

Hasten-save them, or they're lost ?
Father, rouse thee! see yon treasure ;

Yonder thoughtless, yielding one,
Seeks the goblet for his pleasure,

Madly quaffs, and is undone. ,

Sister! snatch thy wretched brother

From the spoiler's cruel grasp ;
Ere another year-another

Victim to their arms they clasp !
Wife with heart almost to breaking,

Hast thou not a word to say ?
Can'st thou thus be slumber taking,

While thy husband is their prey ?
Patriots, christians, friends of freedom !

Waken now--can naught be done ?
Naught to break this cruel thraldom?
Falter not! we are undone !


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NATIONAL ODE. COME, SONS OF COLUMBIA. YOME, sons of Columbia, while proudly and high,

Every bosom with freedom and glory is swelling, While our Eagle's bright eyrie's still built in the sky,

And tyranny's death-song is heard in each dwelling, Come, the bright chalice drain-and again and again, Let our pledge, and our toast, in a far sounding strain, Be water-pure water, bright sparkling with glee, That flows, like our life's blood, unfettered and free. Oh! the wine-cup may sparkle in ruby drops bright,

And o'er its glad brin, in gay phalanx advancing, Fair gossamer spirits, in rain bow like light,

May to Bacchanal music be gracefully dancing: While they dazzle our eyes with the hues of the skies, Soft and silvery tones on the breeze seem to rise, 'Tis the gush of pure water, bright sparkling with glee, That flows, like our life's blood, unfettered and free. Oh! then hail to thee, water—the Bacchanal's toast

May be drank in red wine, that in ruddy light flashes But Columbia's freemen still proudly shall boast,

Of the free gift of God, that o'er hill and vale dashes :

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