William H. Peirsol
God protect our dear old flag,|
The honor of our land,
The emblem of our liberty,
We ask thee let it stand.
O'erwhelm the traitors who have dared
To tear it from on high,
To trample it beneath their feet.
O'erwhelm them God we cry.
2. That honored flag's endeared to us,|
By memory of the brave,
Who gave their lives and shed their blood,
That it might ever wave.
Then keep it from the traitor's grasp,
That he may never boast,
Our dear old flag was seized by him,
And buried 'neath the dust.
3. On many bloody fields of strife,|
In triumph has it waved,
Borne by Columbia's noble sons,
And by their deeds was saved.
Then let no star nor crimsoned stripe,
Be soiled by traitor's hand;
But God! forever let it float,
O'er our dear native land.
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