Lieder

Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
We will rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

CHORUS:
The Union forever, hurrah, boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitor and up with the star;
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

We are springing to the call of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
And we'll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

CHORUS

We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true and brave,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
And altho' they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

CHORUS

So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

CHORUS

(GEORGE F. ROOT) (1861)

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on.

CHORUS
Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.

CHORUS

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My Grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on."

CHORUS

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His Judgement Seat;
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

CHORUS

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

CHORUS

Words by Julia Ward Howe (1862)

Wir sind Deutsche und wir kämpfen
Für die Freiheit der Union
Fest im Glauben an die Einheit
So wie "48" schon
Yankee-Doodle auf den Lippen
Ist Gerechtigkeit der Lohn
Für das Banner der Union!

REFRAIN
Auf, für Lincoln und die Freiheit,
Auf, für Lincoln und die Freiheit,
Auf, für Lincoln und die Freiheit
Für das Banner der Union!

Ob mit Blenker oder Sigel
Uns'rer Fahne ist das gleich
Wir marschieren in den Süden
Stürzen der Tyrannen Reich
Kommt der Feind mit großer Tücke
Und versetzt uns einen Streich,
Uns're Fahne niemals weicht!

REFRAIN

Kämpften wir einst gegen Fürsten
Und feudale Tyrannei
Stehen wir jetzt gegen Feinde
Deren Krieg das Land entzwei'
Den Rebellen dünken Ziele
Wie die uns'ren einerlei
Darum tönt das Feldgeschrei:

REFRAIN

Seht die lange blaue Reihe
Hört, die Trommeln schlagen an
Aus der Nähe, aus der Ferne
Tönet stolz der Hörner Klang
Wir marschieren jetzt nach Süden
Und es weiss ein jeder Mann:
Dass der Feind nicht siegen kann!

REFRAIN

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Ellsworth's [John Brown's] body lies a mould'ring in the grave,
Ellsworth's [John Brown's] body lies a mould'ring in the grave
Ellsworth's [John Brown's] body lies a mould'ring in the grave,
His soul is marching on!

CHORUS
Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
His soul is soul is marching on.

CHORUS

The stars of Heaven are looking kindly down,
The stars of Heaven are looking kindly down,
The stars of Heaven are looking kindly down,
On the grave of poor Ellsworth! [John Brown!]

CHORUS 2x

He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord!
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord!
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord!
His soul is marching on!

CHORUS 2x 

Ellsworth's [John Brown's] knapsack is strapped upon his back,
Ellsworth's [John Brown's] knapsack is strapped upon his back,
Ellsworth's [John Brown's] knapsack is strapped upon his back,
His soul is marching on.

CHORUS 2x 

His pet lambs will meet him on the way,
His pet lambs will meet him on the way,
His pet lambs will meet him on the way,
And they'll go marching on.

CHORUS 2x

They will hang Jeff Davis to a tree,
They will hang Jeff Davis to a tree,
They will hang Jeff Davis to a tree,
As they march along.

CHORUS 2x

The popular refrain of "Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!" (1861) as sung by the Federal Volunteers thoughout the Union

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

When Johnny comes marching home again,
Hurrah, hurrah,
We'll give him a hearty welcome then,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The ladies, they will all turn out,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.

The old church bell will peal with joy,
Hurrah, hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say,
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.

Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah, hurrah!
We'll give the hero three times three,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny come marching home.

Let love and friendship on that day,
Hurrah, hurrah!
Their choicest treasures then display,
Hurrah, hurrah!
And let each one perform some part,
To fill with joy the warrior's heart,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.

(PATRICK S. GILMORE)

[Melodie Vers.1 Vers. 2]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

In the prison cell I sit,
Thinking, mother, dear of you,
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And the tears, they fill my eyes,
'Spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.

CHORUS:
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! The boys are marching,
Cheer up, comrades, they will come,
And beneath the starry flag
We shall breathe the air again
Of the free land in our own beloved home.

In the battle front we stood,
When their fiercest charge they made,
And they swept us off a hundred men or more,
But before we reached their lines,
They were beaten back dismayed,
And we heard the cry of vict'ry o'er and o'er.

CHORUS

So within the prison cell
We are waiting for the day
That shall come to open wide the iron door,
And the hollow eye grows bright,
And the poor heart almost gay,
As we think of seeing home and friends once more.

CHORUS

(GEORGE F. ROOT) (1860s)

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
Except here and there a stray picket
Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket;
'Tis nothing! a private or two now and then,
Will not count in the news of the battle,
Not an officer lost! only one of the men
Moaning out all alone the death and rattle.

CHORUS
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night!"

"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming,
And their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
And the light of the camp fires are gleaming;
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread,
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two on the low trundle bed
Far away in the cot on the mountain.

CHORUS

His musket fall slack--his face, dark, and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a pray'r for the children asleep,
And their mother--"May heaven defend her!"
The moon seems to shine as brightly as then--
That night, when the love yet unspoken
Leap'd up to his lips, and when low murmur'd vows
Were pledg'd, to be ever unbroken.

CHORUS

Then drawing his sleeve roughly o'er his eyes,
He dashes off the tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun close up to his breast,
As if to keep down the heart's swelling;
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
And his footstep is lagging and weary,
Yet onward he goes, thro' the broad belt of light,
Toward the shades of the forest so dreary.

CHORUS

Hark! was it the night-wind that rustles the leaves!
Was it the moonlight so wond'rously flashing?
It look'd like a rifle! "Ha, Mary good bye!"
And his life-blood is ebbing and [s]plashing.
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,
"The Picket's" off duty for ever.

CHORUS

Words by Ethel Lynn Beers (1863)/Music by John Hill Hewitt, 1801-1890

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Fort Sumter ist gefallen /
In der Rebellen Hand,
Sein Notsignal ertönen /
lässt das bedrängte Land.
Entfaltet hat sein Banner /
der schändlichste Verrat-
Wer wird zum Lande stehen / mit todesmuth'ger Tat?

Wenn alle untreu werden, /
so bleiben treu doch wir,
Uns rufet nicht vergebens /
das Unionspanier.
Die stolzeste der Vesten /
auf freiem Boden steht,
Noch auf der Veste Zinnen / das Sternenbanner weht!

Wenn alle untreu werden / dem Land und seinem Recht,
Wenn gegen seine Einheit / anstürmt ein falsch Geschlecht,
Und wenn dem Land der Freien /Verrath und Meuterei
Von seinen Söhnen drohen, / so bleiben wir doch treu.

Jenseits des Ozeanes /
das alte Vaterland,
Hat, ob wir sehr es liebten, / feindselig uns verbannt.
Das neue Land gab freundlich / uns eine Heimat neu;
Dafuer in seinen Nöthen / dank ihm jetzt - deutsche Treu'.

(Text: Albert Wolff, Mai 1861/Melodie des Kirchenchorals: "O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden")

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Dearest love, do you remember
When we lst did meet,
How you told me that you loved me,
Kneeling at my feet?
Oh! how proud you stood before me,
In your suit of blue,
When you vow'd to me and country,
Ever to be true.

CHORUS:
Weeping, sad and lonely,
Hopes and fears, how vain, (Yet praying)
When this cruel war is over,
Praying! that we meet again.

CHORUS

When the summer breeze is sighing,
Mournfully along!
Or when autumn leaves are falling,
Sadly breathes the song.
Oft in dreams I see thee lying,
Oh the battle plain,
Lonely, wounded, even dying;
Calling, but in vain.

CHORUS 2x

If amid the din of battle,
Nobly you should fall,
Far away from those who love you,
None to hear your call.
Who would whisper words of comfort,
Who would soothe your pain?
Ah! the many cruel fancies,
Ever in my brain.

CHORUS 2x

But our country called you, darling,
Angels cheer your way,
While our nation's sons are fighting,
We can only pray.
Nobly strike for God and liberty,
Let all nations see
How we love our starry banner,
Emblem of the free.

CHORUS 2x

Inscribed to SORROWING HEART'S AT HOME/Words by Charles Carroll Sawyer (1862)/Music Composed and Arranged by Henry Tucker

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

You can never win us back;
Never! Never!
Tho' we perish in the track
of your endeavor;
Tho' our corpses strew the earth
Smiling now on our birth,
And tho' blood polute each hearth
Now and ever!

CHORUS:
You can never win us back;
Never! Never!
Tho' we perish in the track
Of your endeavor;
Tho' our corpses strew the earth
Smiling now on our birth,
And tho' blood polute each hearth
Now and ever!

We have risen to a man,
Stern and fearless;
Of your curses, of your ban,
We are careless.
Ev'ry hand is on its knife,
Ev'ry gun is primed for strife.
Ev'ry palm contains a Life
High and peerless.

CHORUS:
We have risen to a man,
Stern and fearless;
Of your curses, of your ban,
We are careless.
Ev'ry hand is on its knife,
Ev'ry gun is primed for strife.
Ev'ry palm contains a Life
High and peerless.

You have no such blood as our
For the shedding;
In the veins of Cavaliers
Was its heading!
You have no such stately men
In you abolution den
Marching through foe and fen,
Nothing dreading!

CHORUS:
You have no such blood as our
For the shedding;
In the veins of Cavaliers
Was its heading!
You have no such stately men
In you abolution den
Marching through foe and fen,
Nothing dreading!

We may fall before the fire
Of your legions,
Paid with gold for murderous hire,
Bought allegiance;
But for every drop you shed,
You shall have a mound of dead,
So that vultures may be fed
In our regions!

CHORUS:
We may fall before the fire
Of your legions,
Paid with gold for murderous hire,
Bought allegiance;
But for every drop you shed,
You shall have a mound of dead,
So that vultures may be fed
In our regions!

But the battle to the strong
Is not given,
While the Judge of right and wrong
Sits in Heaven
And the God of David still
Guides the pebble in His will,
There are giants yet to kill,
Wrongs unshriven!

CHORUS:
But the battle to the strong
Is not given,
While the Judge of right and wrong
Sits in Heaven
And the God of David still
Guides the pebble in His will,
There are giants yet to kill,
Wrongs unshriven!

Words by a Lady of Kentucky (1861)/Music by Armand Edwand Blackmar

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song;
Sing it with spirit that will start the world along,
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty-thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes your free!
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea,
While we were marching through Georgia.

How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound!
How the turkeys gobled which our commissary found!
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS

Yes, and there were Union men, who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could the be restrained for breaking forth in cheers,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS

"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So the saucy Rebels said, and 'twas a handsome boast;
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the host,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS

So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train,
Sixty miles in latitude, three hundred to the main;
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS

by Henry Clay Work (1865) [NOTE: see the words to "Traveling Homeward" (1872) which was also written to the same music.]

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Just before the battle, mother,
I am thinking most of you,
While upon the field we're watching
With the enemy in view.
Comrades brave are 'round me lying,
Filled with thoughts of home and God
For well they know that on the morrow,
Some will sleep beneath the sod.

CHORUS:
Farewell, mother, you may never
Press me to your breast again,
But, oh, you'll not forget me, mother,
If I'm numbered with the slain.

Oh, I long to see you, mother,
And the loving ones at home,
But I'll never leave our banner,
Till in honor I can come.
Tell the traitors all around you
That their cruel words we know,
In every battle kill our soldiers
By the help they give the foe.

CHORUS

Hark! I hear the bugles sounding,
'Tis the signal for the fight,
Now, may God protect us, mother,
As He ever does the right.
Hear the "Battle-Cry of Freedom,"
How it swells upon the air,
Oh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard,
Or we'll perish nobly there.

CHORUS

(GEORGE F. ROOT) (1860s)

Just before the battle, mother,
I was drinking mountain dew,
When I saw the "Rebels" marching,
To the rear I quickly flew;
Where the stragglers were flying,
Thinking of their homes and wives;
'Twas not the "Rebs" we feared, dear mother,
But our own dear precious lives.

CHORUS:
Farewell, mother, for you'll never
See my name among the slain.
For if I only can skedaddle,
Dear mother, I'll come home again.

I hear the bugle sounding, mother,
My soul is eager for the fray.
I guess I'll hide behind some cover,
And then I shall be OK.
Discretion's the better part of valor,
At least I've often heard you say;
And he who loves his life, dear mother,
Won't fight if he can run away.

CHORUS

(ANONYMOUS/GEORGE F. ROOT) (PARODY) (1860s)

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Away down South in the land of traitors,
Rattlesnakes and alligators,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
Where cotton's king and men are chattels,
Union boys will win the battles,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

Then we'll all go down to Dixie,
Away, away,
Each Dixie boy must understand,
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

I wish I was in Baltimore,
I'd make Secession traitors roar,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
We'll put the traitors all to rout,
I'll bet my boots we'll whip them out,
Right away, come away, right away,
come away.

Then they'll wish they were in Dixie,
Away, away,
Each Dixie boy must understand,
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

Oh, may our Stars and Stripes still wave
Forever o'er the free and brave,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
And let our motto ever be -
"For Union and for Liberty!"
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

Then we'll all go down to Dixie,
Away, away,
Each Dixie boy must understand,
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

(ANONYMOUS/DANIEL DECATUR EMMETT) (1860s)

I wish I was in land ob cotton,
Old times dar am not forgotten,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
In Dixie Land whar' I was born in,
Early on one frosty mornin',
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

CHORUS:
Den I wish I was in Dixie,
Hoo-ray! Hoo-ray!
In Dixie land, I'll take my stand
to lib and die in Dixie;
Away, away,
away down south in Dixie,
Away, away,
away down south in Dixie.

Old Missus marry Will-de-weaber,
Willium was a gay deceaber;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
But when he put his arms around 'er
He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

CHORUS

His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaber,
But dat did not seem to greab 'er;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
Old Missus acted the foolish part,
And died for a man dat broke her heart,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

CHORUS

Now here's a health to the next old Missus,
And all the gals dat want to kiss us;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
But if you want to drive 'way sorrow,
Come and hear dis song to-morrow,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

CHORUS

Dar's buckwheat cakes an' Injun batter,
Makes you fat or a little fatter;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
Den hoe it down and scratch your grabble,
To Dixie's land I'm bound to trabble,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

(DANIEL DECATUR EMMETT) (1859)

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

The despot's heel is on the shore,
Maryland, My Maryland!
His touch is at thy temple door,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore,
That fleck'd the streets of Baltimore,
Ands be the Battle Queen of yore,
Maryland, My Maryland!

Hark to a wand'ring Son's appeal!
Maryland, My Maryland!
My Mother-State! to thee I kneel,
Maryland, My Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel,
Maryland, My Maryland!

Thou wilt not cower in the dust,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Thy beaming sword shall never rust,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Remember Carroll's sacred trust,
Remember Howard's warlike thrust--
And all thy slumbers with the just,
Maryland, My Maryland!

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come! for thy dalliance, does thee wrong,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come! to thine own heroic throng,
That stalks with Liberty along,
And give a new Key to thy song,
Maryland, My Maryland!

Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Virginia should not call in vain!
Maryland, My Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the plain--
"Sic temper" tis the proud refrain,
That baffles minions back amain,
Maryland, My Maryland!

I see the blush upon the cheek,
Maryland, My Maryland!
But thou wast ever bravely meek,
Maryland, My Maryland!
But lo! there surges forth a shriek
From hill to hill, from creek to creek--
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
Maryland, My Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the fire upon the roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland, My Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
The Old Line's bugle, fife and drum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb--
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes--she burns! she'll come! she'll come!
Maryland, My Maryland!

(1861) Crescite et Multiplicamini, Words by James Ryder Randal (A Baltimorean in Lousianna), Music Adapted & Arranged by C. E. [Original music based the German Christmas carol "O Tannenbaum"]

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

Father and I went to camp,
Along with Captain Goodwin,
And there we saw the men and boys,
As thick as hasty pudding.

CHORUS:
Yankey Doodle, keep it up,
Yankey Doodle dandy;
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.

And there was Captain Washington
Upon a slapping stallion,
And giving orders to his men,
I guess there was a million.

CHORUS

And then the feathers on his hat,
They looked so tarnal finey,
I wanted peskily to get,
To give to my Jemima.

CHORUS

And there they had a swamping gun,
As big as a log of maple,
On a deuceed little cart,
A load for father's cattle.

CHORUS

And every time they fired it off
It took a horn of powder;
It made a noise like father's gun,
Only a nation louder.

CHORUS

I went as near to it myself
As Jacob's underpinin',
And father went as near again---
I thought the deuce was in him.

CHORUS

(It scared me so I ran the streets,
Nor stopped as I remember,
Till I got home, and safely locked
In granny's little chamber.)

CHORUS

And then I see a little keg,
Its heads were made of leather,
They knocked upon't with little sticks,
To call the folks together.

CHORUS 

And there they'd fife away like fun,
And play on corn stalk fiddles,
And some had ribbons red as blood,
All bound around their middles.

CHORUS 

The troopers too, would gallop up,
And fire right in our faces;
It scared me almost half to death
To see them run such races.

CHORUS

Uncle Sam came there to change
Some pancakes and some onions,
For 'lasses cakes to carry home
To give his wife and young ones.

CHORUS

But I can't tell you half I see,
They kept up such a smother;
So I took my hat off, made a bow,
And scampered home to mother.

CHORUS

A Yankee boy is trim and tall,
And never over fat, sir;
At dance, or frolic, hop and ball,
As nimble as a rat, sir.

CHORUS:
Yankee doodle guard your coast,
Yankee doodle dandy;
Fear not, then, nor threat nor boast;
Yankee doodle dandy.

He's always out on training day,
Commencement or election;
At truck and trade he knows a way
Of thriving to perfection.

CHORUS

His door is always open found,
His cider of the best, sir;
His board with pumpkin pie is crown'd,
And welcome ev'ry guest, sir.

CHORUS 

Though rough and little is his farm,
That little is his own, sir;
His hand is strong, his heart is warm,
'Tis truth and honor's throne, sir.

CHORUS 

His country is his pride and boast,
He'll ever prove true blue, sir;
When call'd upon to give his toast,
'Tis "Yankee doodle, doo," sir!

CHORUS

Yankee Doodle (deutscher Text)

Zum Spott dereinst wohl dürftet ihr
Uns Yankee Schlingel nennen;
Heut aber zieh`n zum Siege wir,
Ihr solltet das Liedchen kennen!

REFRAIN:
Yankee Schlingel, ha, ha, ha! Yankee Doodle Dandy!
'Vorwärts!' ruft der Captain 'beim Yankee Doodle Dandy!'

Wer ficht, der spielt nicht Federball,
Doch soll, was muss`z geschehen!
Fest wird bei Yanky Doodles Schall
Der Yankee-Bursche stehen.

REFRAIN

Der Länderdieb kommt über`s Meer,
Wir wollen`s bald ihm zeigen!
Frisch, Yankee-Buben, kommt nur her,
Lasst`s ihn nach Hause geigen.

REFRAIN

Was, wie der Yanky Doodle, kann
Die Vorzeit uns verjüngen?
Zum Lied das einer erst begann,
Millionen Chorus singen.

REFRAIN

Denn, Yankee Doodle, nicht allein
Dies Festland soll es wittern;
Sollst überall willkommen sein,
und jeder Fürst soll zittern.

REFRAIN

[Melodie 1767 - 1775]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

The home was sad, I left the maid,
A ling'ring farewell taking,
Her sighs and tears my steps delayed,
I thought her heart was breaking;
In hurried words her name I blest,
I breathed the vows that bind me,
And to my heart in anguish pressed
The girl I left behind me.

Then to the South we bore away,
To win a name in story,
And there, where dawns the sun of day,
There dawned our sun of glory;
Both blazed in neon on Richmond's height,
Where in the post assigned me,
I shared the glory of that fight,
Sweet girl I left behind me.

Full many a name our banners bore
Of former deeds of daring,
But they were of the days of yore,
In which we had no sharing;
But now our laurels freshly won
With the old [-] shall [-]
I'll [- - -] sires each son,
Swept girl I left behind me.

The hope of final victory,
Within any bosom burning,
Is mingling with sweet thoughts of thee
And of my fond entwining
But should I ne'er return again,
Still worth thy love thou'll find me,
Dishonor'd [thought?] shall never [stain?]
The some I''ll leave behind me.

(circa 1840s) National Air by Samuel Lover [based on the music of "Brighton Camp"]

[Melodie]                                      [Top]                                      [Back]

O say can you see by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.

CHORUS:
Oh say, does that star spangled banner yet wave,
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore dimly seen thro' the mist of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream.

CHORUS

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country shall leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hirelings and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave.

CHORUS

O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their lov'd home, and the war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n rescued land,
Praise the Power that hath made and preserv'd us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And the be our motto, "In God is our trust."

CHORUS

(1814) (aka "The Anacreontic Song", 1779) Words by Frances Scott Key, 1780-1843/Music by John Stafford Smith, 1750-1836/Arranged by Collin Coe, 1884 [Source: pp. 106-108 of "Our National War Songs" (1884); Boston: S. Brainard's Songs, Plate No. 15800-3.]

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