La Marsellaise.
Ye sons of fame, awake to glory,
Hark!
Hark! What myriads bid you rise—
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary—
Behold their tears and hear their cries.
Shall reckless tyrants, mischief's breeding,
With hireling hosts—a ruffian band—
Affright and desolate our land
While peace and liberty are calling?
To arms!
To arms!
Ye braves,
Tha avenging sword unsheath.
March on!
March on!
All hearts resolve
On victory or death.
Oh liberty, can man resign thee
Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons' bolts, or bars confine thee,
Or wrongs thy noble spirit tame?
For long the world has wept bewailing
That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield;
But freedom is our sword and shield.
Thank God, their arts are unavailing.
To arms!
To arms!
Ye brave,
Tha avenging sword unsheath.
March on!
March on!
All hearts resolve
On victory or death.
Chorus.
To arms!
To arms!
Ye brave,
Tha avenging sword unsheath,
March on!
March on!
All hearts resolve
On victory or death.
be with you all.
.
Among the responses to invitations sent by the Committee of Arrangements, were letters of regret at inability to be present from
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