The First Of August

Hail! hail thou glorious first!
Proud day of Liberty,
Thy dawning wakes the burst
Of India's jubilee;
And calls to mind that happy morn
When Freedom's thousand sons were born.


That morn, when o'er the main
Bless'd Freedom's angel flew,
And rent each galling chain,
And loud her tocsin blew;
When hoary age became a boy,
And every heart leaped up for joy.


Hail! hail thou glorious day,
We greet thy blest return,
With speech and gladsome lay,
And fervent hearts, that burn
To join with those amid the sea,
Whose songs and shouts are Liberty!


Speed, Lord, the glorious day,
When o'er our native land
Fond Liberty shall sway
Her sceptre of command;
And every yoke and galling chain,
Shall vanish 'neath her peaceful reign.