| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| Of all the fine fellows, this world can afford |
3-4 |
10 |
| Columbia's sons arouse to glory! |
4-6 |
6 |
| Columbians, your virtue all nations must own |
6-8 |
5 |
| To Columbia, who gladly reclin'd at her ease |
8-10 |
6 |
| I'll sing you a song, my good friends, with your leave |
10-12 |
13 |
| Now the dire thirst of sway destains |
12-13 |
6 |
| Hail, Independence' second birth [sic] |
14-15 |
8 |
| To arms, to arms, when honor cries |
15-17 |
8 |
| To the standard repair |
17-18 |
6 |
| Sing Yankee Doodle, that fine tune |
18-20 |
14 |
| Hail Columbia! happy land |
21-22 |
4 |
| Columbia exult! thy own Adams still lives |
22-25 |
7 |
| Stygian God, great Belzebub, The |
25-27 |
9 |
| Come all ye yankee sailors with swords and pikes advance |
27-29 |
9 |
| Columbia! Columbia! to glory arise |
29-31 |
6 |
| Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer |
31-33 |
9 |
| In a chariot of light from the regions of day |
33-35 |
10 |
| No sect in the world can with Masons compare |
35-36 |
5 |
| Sea was calm, the sky serene, The |
36-37 |
3 |
| Muses' harp by Concord strung, The |
37-38 |
4 |
| Fair blew the wind, the morn was serene |
38-39 |
5 |
| Some women take delight in dress |
39-40 |
8 |
| Sailor sighs as sinks his native shore, The |
40-41 |
8 |
| Immur'd too long, Florella sighs |
41-42 |
7 |
| Women all tell me I'm false to my lass, The |
42-44 |
10 |
| Come, fill each brimming glass, boys |
44-46 |
8 |
| 'Twas in the good ship Rover |
46-47 |
4 |
| Gay Damon long studi'd my heart to obtain |
47-48 |
5 |
| Here's to the lass of bashful fifteen |
48-49 |
4 |
| Gay Bacchus one evening invited his friends |
49-50 |
5 |
| Tho' Bacchus may boast of his care-killing bowl |
50-51 |
7 |
| Chear up gluttons fill your bodies |
52-53 |
|
| Jolly fat friar lov'd liquor good store, A |
53-54 |
3 |
| When discord had rais'd her black standard on high |
54-56 |
6 |
| Sainted shades who dared to brave |
56-58 |
4 |
| When God from his celestial throne |
58-59 |
6 |
| Come ye lads who wish to shine |
59-60 |
5 |
| Hail Independence, more divine |
61-62 |
7 |
| Let patriot ardor distinguish the day |
62-64 |
7 |
| John Bull for pastime took a prance |
64-66 |
5 |
| Late Jove and blue Neptune in conference met |
66-67 |
7 |
| Cease, Clara, cease those silent tears |
68 |
6 |
| On Columbia's blest shore |
69 |
3 |
| When Holland gag'd and fetter'd sprawls |
69-71 |
7 |
| Wind of the desart was high, The |
71-72 |
2 |
| Fav'rite land of freedom, hail! |
72-74 |
4 |
| This day we're met, with festive mirth |
74-76 |
4 |
| Let all the world with heart and tongue |
76-78 |
9 |
| Breeze was fresh, the ship in stays, The |
79-80 |
4 |
| Come join in federal festive mirth |
80-81 |
7 |
| Gayly lads! our friends we're leaving |
81-83 |
10 |
| Come join hand in hand boys, be merry and sing |
83-84 |
7 |
| Arise, and blow thy trumpet, Fame! |
84-85 |
5 |
| Farewel, great chief! thy country cries [sic] |
86-87 |
4 |
| Sons of Columbia, now lament |
87-89 |
|
| When first we hear the boatswain's bray |
89-90 |
4 |
| Night scarce her mantle had withdrew |
90-91 |
3 |
| How dark is the hour, while my love is away |
91-92 |
5 |
| Sailor's life's a life of woe, A |
92-94 |
3 |
| When my money was all gone that I gained in the wars |
94-95 |
6 |
| Life's like a sea in constant motion |
95-96 |
4 |
| With a pipe of Virginia, how happy am I |
96-97 |
4 |
| Loose every sail to the breeze |
97 |
4 |
| As with Louisa late I sat |
97-98 |
8 |
| What news! said John Bull to a croaker: Alack |
99-100 |
6 |
| Columbia's sons, once more we're met |
100-102 |
10 |
| When France with huge pride |
102-103 |
6 |
| Come, sailors, be filling the can |
104 |
3 |
| I was press'd, while a rowing so happy |
105-106 |
5 |
| Sweet gentle friends, whole bosoms flow |
106-107 |
9 |
| Silent hour of midnight reigns, The |
107-108 |
3 |
| Sea-worn tar, who in the war, The |
108-109 |
3 |
| Lord! what care I for mam or dad |
109 |
5 |