Look! Freedom glares and pallid as a ghost,

Except for gashes on her brow and breast,

And faint from hunger, sits awhile to rest.

Amphibious Barry, bold on sea or coast,

Mounts and spurs darkness to the Tory Host,

And, like an Indian rider with head prest

Down to his steed's hot neck in prowess test,

Plucks from the ground, a prize he well may boast.

Oh, as the sun's smile passing through the rain,

Shines forth a double arch, so, Barry's deed,

Refleshing Freedom's bones made gaunt by need,

Shines through the Ages; aye, and shines forth twain—

Both for America, from Britain Freed,

And Erin, still choked black in Britain's chain!