1802 4

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(All Hail the Shouting Trumpet)
For the Monthly Magazine
The Monthly Magazine, XIII (July 1802), p. 559

All hail the shouting trumpet,
The surly cannon's roar;
The answering gun along the deep,
To the thunder of the shore!
Around the isle of Albion
A thousand banners wave:
While Freedom chants her anthem,
At the union of the brave.

All hail the clanging cymbal,
The voice of the deepening drum;
Let millions flash their musquetry,
Since the throat of war is dumb.
For the patriot sons of liberty,
Have seen the battle cease;
And nations give a brother's hand
At the altar-stone of Peace.

For you, who braved the danger,
The heat of the battling plain;
And you who trod the slippery deck,
'Mid the carnage of the main;
Ye now shall change the ramparts
Where the midnight breezes numb,
The splinter'd mast and rocking keel,
For the sacred fields of home.

Then they who charg'd the bursting bomb,
And the batt'ring cannon's blast,
Shall tell, beneath their forest trees,
Of the dangers they have past:
Amid the scenes of infancy,
Forget the battle's rage;
And the native plains that nurs'd their
Be the refuge of their age.

Now, now, united millions,
The worship hour is come,
When Peace shall dwell with Nature,
On the Patriot hills of home.
Along the shores of Europe,
The bloodless standards wave;
While Freedom chants her anthem,
At the union of the brave!

Edinburgh, April 1802.

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