A beacon has been lighted,
Bright as the noonday sun;
On worlds of mind benighted,
Its rays are pouring down;
Full many a shrine of error,
And many a deed of shame,
Dismayed, has shrunk in terror,
Before the lighted flame.
Chorus.

Victorious, on, victorious!
Proud beacon onward haste;
Till floods of light all glorious,
Illume the moral waste.
Oppression foul has foundered,
The demon gasps for breath;
His rapid march is downward,
To everlasting death.
Old age and youth united,
His works shall prostrate hurl,
And soon himself, affrighted,
Shall hurry from this world.
Victorious, on, victorious, &c.
Proud liberty untiring,
Strikes at the monster's heart;
Beneath her blows expiring,
He dreads her well-aimed dart.
Her blows—we'll pray "God speed" them,
Oppression to despoil;
And how we fought for freedom,
Let future ages tell.
Victorious, on, victorious, &c.