We grant no dukedoms to the few,

We hold like rights and shall;
Equal on Sunday in the pew,
On Monday in the mall.

For what avail the plough or sail
Or land or life, if freedom fail?

The noble craftsmen we promote,
Disown the knave and fool;
Each honest man shall have his vote,
Each child shall have his school.
A union then of honest men,
Or union nevermore again.

The wild rose and the barbary thorn
Hung out their summer pride
Where now on heated pavements worn
The feet of millions stride.

Fair rose the planted hills behind
The good town on the bay,
And where the western hills declined
The prairie stretched away.

What care though rival cities soar

Along the stormy coast:

Penn's town, New York, and Baltimore,
If Boston knew the most!

They laughed to know the world so wide;
The mountains said: "Good-day!

We greet you well, you Saxon men,
Up with your towns and stay!"

The world was made for honest trade,-
To plant and eat be none afraid.

Bad news from George on the English throne : "You are thriving well," said he ; "Now by these presents be it known, You shall pay us a tax on tea;

'Tis very small no load at all

Honor enough that we send the call."

"Not so," said Boston, "good my lord,
We pay your governors here
Abundant for their bed and board,
Six thousand pounds a year.
(Your highness knows our homely word,)
Millions for self-government,

But for tribute never a cent."

The cargo came! and who could blame
If Indians seized the tea,

And, chest by chest, let down the same
Into the laughing sea?

For what avail the plough or sail

Or land or life, if freedom fail?

The townsmen braved the English king,
Found friendship in the French,
And Honor joined the patriot ring
Low on their wooden bench.

O bounteous seas that never fail!
O day remembered yet!

O happy port that spied the sail
Which wafted Lafayette!

Pole-star of light in Europe's night,
That never faltered from the right.

Kings shook with fear, old empires crave
The secret force to find

Which fired the little State to save
The rights of all mankind.

But right is might through all the world;
Province to province faithful clung,
Through good and ill the war-bolt hurled,

Till Freedom cheered and the joy-bells rung.

The sea returning day by day
Restores the world-wide mart;
So let each dweller on the Bay
Fold Boston in his heart,

Till these echoes be choked with snows,
Or over the town blue ocean flows.

Let the blood of her hundred thousands
Throb in each manly vein;

And the wit of all her wisest

Make sunshine in her brain.
For

you can teach the lightning speech, And round the globe your voices reach.

And each shall care for other,
And each to each shall bend,
To the poor a noble brother,
To the good an equal friend.

A blessing through the ages thus
Shield all thy roof and towers!
God with the fathers. o with us,

Thou darling town of ours!