The Riverside song book/Our Countrys Call
OUR COUNTRY’S CALL.
William Cullen Bryant. German Air.
Maestoso. (Air:Der Tannenbaum.)
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1. Lay down the axe; fling by the spade; Leave in its track the toiling plough;
2. Come ye, who breast the mountain storm By grassy steep or highland lake,
3. Come ye, who throng be - side the deep, Her ports and hamlets of the strand.
The ri - fle and the bayo-net blade For arms like yours were fit-ter now;
Come, for the land ye love, to form A bul - wark that no foe can break.
In num-ber like the waves that leap On his long-murm'ring marge of sand;
Ho! stur-dy as the oaks ye cleave, And moved as soon to fear and flight;
And ye whose homes are by the grand Swift riv - ers, ris - ing far a - way,
Few, few were they whose swords of old Won the fair land in which we dwell;
D.S. Strike for our broad and good - ly land, Blow aft - er blow, till men shall see
Men of the glade and for - est! leave Your woodcraft for the field of fight.
Come from the depth of your green land, As mighty in your march as they.
But we are ma - ny, we who hold The grim re-solve to guard it well.
That might and right move hand in hand, And glo-rious must their tri - umph be.
D.S.