lmighty organ of America,
E'er mortal man thy voice did hear
Thy notes, full clear,
Rose with voluptious music on the air,
Till angels, wondering, hesitated there,
And rude barbarians fell in fear
Beside thy god-like amphitheatre.

Thus, when thy ancient spirit touch'd those keys,
Those smoothly polished keys,
Those swift and mighty keys
A powerful yet a pleasing note was found
That gave to Silence round
A song whereof no mortal heard a sound,
But which did Heaven please
Through the long centuries,
And unto these.

Then, when the red-men's blue-eyed brother came
Beside this shrine, thy temple here to claim,
Humbled was he,
Such glory here to see;
Thy awful music's note
Upon his spirit smote
Subduing stronger passions of the mind,
Until, like prisoners, suffering there confined,
Those gentler melodies
Within his bosom there,
Ascended with thy voice to heav'n
In one triumphant prayer.

Then louder, ye organ of America,
Still louder sound thy anthems on the sky;
And thou, Niagara, e'er thy spirit die,
Wake!—wake the courts of Heaven with thy lay,
Till the dear angels learn like thee to pray
For all the world to-day;
Yet louder, ye organ of America,
Still louder, let thy Spirit from those keys,—
Those smoothly polished keys,
Those swift and heavy keys,—
Strike, with inspiring fingers,
Heaven-and-earth's triumphant harmonies.