Thomas Campbell

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow
Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow
Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe.

And hears thy stormy music in the drum!

And hears thy stormy music in the drum!

Oh, leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, space the beechen tree!

Oh, leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, space the beechen tree!

Again to the battle, Achaians!
Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance!
Our land, the first garden of read more

Again to the battle, Achaians!
Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance!
Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree--
It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free.