While Freedom guides exultingly
The genius of our country’s fame,
Let no fell breath of tyranny
Bedim the lustre of her name;
Else fired by patriotic zeal,
Our guerdon ev’ry freemans right,
With common woe and common weal,
We’ll battle for Columbia’s might.

    We’ll fight for the right, fair Columbia,
    Thou art Mother, thou art Goddess, thou art Shrine;
    Ever be our proudest boast,
    And our never failing toast
    Heart and soul, and good right arm were ever thine.
    Columbia! Columbia! Thou’rt Goddess, Mother, Shrine,
    Columbia! Columbia! Our strong right arms are thine.

While braggart foeman flaunts his power,
Let no born freeman’s pulse be still;
For in his country’s dark’ning hour,
Her glory ev’ry nerve must thrill.
From sea to sea, from gulf to lake,
From valley deep to mountain high,
Let Freedom’s sons again awake,
Columbia to defend or die.

    We’ll fight for the right, fair Columbia,
    Thou art Mother, thou art Goddess, thou art Shrine;
    Ever be our proudest boast,
    And our never failing toast
    Heart and soul, and good right arm were ever thine.
    Columbia! Columbia! Thou’rt Goddess, Mother, Shrine,
    Columbia! Columbia! Our strong right arms are thine.

While purpled thralldom’s heavy chains
Defile the heritage of Kings;
While sceptres gall a bondman’s pains,
Beside the land where freedom sings:
Then must Columbia’s heart and hand
Demand that tyranny must cease,
Or win for that crown-ridden land
Eternal liberty and peace.

    We’ll fight for the right, fair Columbia,
    Thou art Mother, thou art Goddess, thou art Shrine;
    Ever be our proudest boast,
    And our never failing toast
    Heart and soul, and good right arm were ever thine.
    Columbia! Columbia! Thou’rt Goddess, Mother, Shrine,
    Columbia! Columbia! Our strong right arms are thine.

There came a cry across the deep,
Wailed from a bondage-burdened land,
To rouse from Freedom’s golden sleep
The succor of a brother’s hand.
To arms the Blue! To arms the Grey!
March onward to that southern sea;
Columbia wrests from cruel sway,
A fettered race that would be free.

    We’ll fight for the right, fair Columbia,
    Thou art Mother, thou art Goddess, thou art Shrine;
    Ever be our proudest boast,
    And our never failing toast
    Heart and soul, and good right arm were ever thine.
    Columbia! Columbia! Thou’rt Goddess, Mother, Shrine,
    Columbia! Columbia! Our strong right arms are thine.