THE MARCH OF THE FREE.

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BY HON. HORACE GREELEY.

Hark! an earthquake’s deep roar o’er the country is booming,
But no ruin behind it is seen;
With joy each heart swelling, each visage illuming,
Earth brightens where’er it hath been.
The West’s gallant spirits first thrilled to its pealing,
As onward it roll’d to the sea;
Now the North, East, and Center the impulse are feeling,
’Tis the rising and march of the Free!
No portents precede, and no true hearts deplore it,
No bright stars wane dim in the sky;
Misrule’s cohorts faint are alone swept before it,
And quail as its blast hurtles by;
Corruption’s shrunk bands to their caverns are driven;
As chaff in the tempest they flee,
While full on the ear, ’neath the glad smile of heaven,
Break the shouts and the march of the Free!
No banners are lifted, no trumpets are sounding,
As that host in its triumph moves on;
And the burst of deep joy from each valley resounding,
Tells how tearless the victory’s won.
As trembles the earth to its mighty emotion,
More firm grows each Patriot knee;
While People and States, from the Lakes to the Ocean,
Proudly join in the march of the Free!
From thy borders, Penobscot, their shout has ascended;
Connecticut’s tide bears it on;
Till with thine, Mississippi, its surgings are blended,
And Roanoke recalls glories gone;
Thou, placid Ohio, art thrilled with the spirit
Waked from Michigan’s marge to the sea,
Where our own noble Hudson so proudly shall hear it,
And joy in the march of the Free!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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