Back to Reminisces
Rise - Sons of the Free - July 4, 1839
An Ode: Birth-Day of Washington - February 22, 1839
Tip-Tyler-Reform! - July 4, 1840
The Star Flag's Streaming in the Breeze - July 4, 1840
Ode To Wyoming - July, 1841
The lyrics and verses of Amos Sisty's songs and poetry exemplify the unbridled patriotism of Sisty and his fellow citizens. Often printed on silk ribbons, the lyrics were distributed and sung on holidays and at political rallies when the citizens of Wilkes-Barre and beyond gathered on the Square or riverside on the Green, capturing the spirit of the day.
An Ode: Birth-Day of Washington - February 22, 1839
Tip-Tyler-Reform! - July 4, 1840
The Star Flag's Streaming in the Breeze - July 4, 1840
Ode To Wyoming - July, 1841
The lyrics and verses of Amos Sisty's songs and poetry exemplify the unbridled patriotism of Sisty and his fellow citizens. Often printed on silk ribbons, the lyrics were distributed and sung on holidays and at political rallies when the citizens of Wilkes-Barre and beyond gathered on the Square or riverside on the Green, capturing the spirit of the day.
Rise - Sons of the Free
Amos Sisty - July 4, 1839
(Sung to the tune of "Wake! Isles of the South!")
Rise, sons of the free! the blest morning has broke-
And tune every tongue to rejoicing and song;
"Tis our own natal day when the iron bound yoke
Was thrown from the neck of the brave man and strong;
The Eagle arose, and the star spangled flag
Was cast to the breeze to preside o'er the fray;
And free hearts came round it from valley and crag
And render'd immortal the patriot's day.
Oh! free beats the pulse, and the current runs free-
And the eyes of best millions are bright'ning now;
While peals the loud song from the vale to the sea,
Of a nation assembled to vow;
To offer once more on the altar of home
The pledge which our fathers recorded on high,
When they hurled in deep scorn o'er the billowy foam
Defiance to Kings on the Fourth of July!
Long years have sped on in their fast wheeling flight,
And the prize which was won by the valor of yore,
Undimm'd and unchang'd and resplendently bright
Forever shall beam on Columbia's shore;
Though the world wage a war, if sacred the trust
Bequeath'd by the brave and patriot sire,
The free arm will crush every foe to the dust,
And bright o'er their ruins blaze Liberty's fire!
Then sound the glad note, let the pure song of praise
Soar up to the skies, tis the day of the free;
The sweet light of day, and the sun's cheering rays,
Light the land of the blest, o'er mount, dale and sea.
Then offer once more on the altar of home
The pledge which our fathers recorded on high;
When they hurled in deep scorn o'er the billowy foam
Defiance to Kings on the Fourth of July!
Amos Sisty - July 4, 1839
(Sung to the tune of "Wake! Isles of the South!")
Rise, sons of the free! the blest morning has broke-
And tune every tongue to rejoicing and song;
"Tis our own natal day when the iron bound yoke
Was thrown from the neck of the brave man and strong;
The Eagle arose, and the star spangled flag
Was cast to the breeze to preside o'er the fray;
And free hearts came round it from valley and crag
And render'd immortal the patriot's day.
Oh! free beats the pulse, and the current runs free-
And the eyes of best millions are bright'ning now;
While peals the loud song from the vale to the sea,
Of a nation assembled to vow;
To offer once more on the altar of home
The pledge which our fathers recorded on high,
When they hurled in deep scorn o'er the billowy foam
Defiance to Kings on the Fourth of July!
Long years have sped on in their fast wheeling flight,
And the prize which was won by the valor of yore,
Undimm'd and unchang'd and resplendently bright
Forever shall beam on Columbia's shore;
Though the world wage a war, if sacred the trust
Bequeath'd by the brave and patriot sire,
The free arm will crush every foe to the dust,
And bright o'er their ruins blaze Liberty's fire!
Then sound the glad note, let the pure song of praise
Soar up to the skies, tis the day of the free;
The sweet light of day, and the sun's cheering rays,
Light the land of the blest, o'er mount, dale and sea.
Then offer once more on the altar of home
The pledge which our fathers recorded on high;
When they hurled in deep scorn o'er the billowy foam
Defiance to Kings on the Fourth of July!
An Ode
Birth-Day of Washington
Amos Sisty - February 22, 1839
(Sung to the tune of "Cephas")
Long in the East had Freedom slept-
A troubled sleep on Slav'ry's bed,
And millions in their bondage wept-
Or vainly struggling, vainly bled!
The tyrant hop'd that from her sleep
She'd wake not-that her race was run;
Vain hope - she woke - sped o'er the deep,
And gave the world a Washington!
In Battle brave - in Council wise-
He ever led in danger's van;
His light descended from the Skies-
The Christian spirit bless'd the man;
In vain you seek from page to page;
In vain through Hist'ry swiftly run-
From clime to clime, from age to age,
To find another Washington!
And when the Mother to her child
Would lessons teach of patriot's lore,
And tell him of the contest wild,
And how his fathers fought of yore;
And over the illumin'd page she bends,
To seek proud names to show her son;
And find which brightest radiance lends,
She'll point the boy to Washington!
Our land is great - our land is free,
And blessings freely sent are ours;
And stretching forth from sea to sea,
She spreads her sway and sends her powers;
Her fame is fair - her hopes are bright -
And may Columbia's every son
Be guided by the Beacon light
That beam'd to guide our Washington!
Tip-Tyler-Reform!
Amos Sisty - July 4, 1840
(Sung to the tune of "American Star")
Come, join the song, boys, and swell the loud chorus;
The hard cider foams - and the locos look blue.
Oh! bright shines our son, and the prospect before us,
Is cheering and bright to each patriot true!
Reform beckons onward each friend of the nation
To down on the spoilers and take them by storm;
And this be the toast on our grand celebration
In the people's Log Cabin - "Tip - Tyler - Reform!"
The nation is bourne down by spoilers whose notion
Is strong that the people were made to be fools;
Who cringe to their masters in servile devotion,
And bend the base knee and obey them as tools;
But, the people are rising - they'll soon tell a story -
"T will make the true heart of the patriot feel warm;
When the nation, restored to its primitive glory,
Shall bear on its banner - Tip - Tyler - Reform!"
From Missouri to Maine, now through every gradation,
The locusts of office have plundered the land;
But hark! hear the thunder! the deep reprobation;
It comes, as the storm comes, swift, gloomy and grand!
The people, uprisen, in might are appearing;
And lo! look aloft, on the front of the storm;
See, lit by it's flash, as it swiftly is nearing,
From Maine to Missouri - Tip - Tyler - Reform!
Amos Sisty - July 4, 1840
(Sung to the tune of "American Star")
Come, join the song, boys, and swell the loud chorus;
The hard cider foams - and the locos look blue.
Oh! bright shines our son, and the prospect before us,
Is cheering and bright to each patriot true!
Reform beckons onward each friend of the nation
To down on the spoilers and take them by storm;
And this be the toast on our grand celebration
In the people's Log Cabin - "Tip - Tyler - Reform!"
The nation is bourne down by spoilers whose notion
Is strong that the people were made to be fools;
Who cringe to their masters in servile devotion,
And bend the base knee and obey them as tools;
But, the people are rising - they'll soon tell a story -
"T will make the true heart of the patriot feel warm;
When the nation, restored to its primitive glory,
Shall bear on its banner - Tip - Tyler - Reform!"
From Missouri to Maine, now through every gradation,
The locusts of office have plundered the land;
But hark! hear the thunder! the deep reprobation;
It comes, as the storm comes, swift, gloomy and grand!
The people, uprisen, in might are appearing;
And lo! look aloft, on the front of the storm;
See, lit by it's flash, as it swiftly is nearing,
From Maine to Missouri - Tip - Tyler - Reform!
The Star Flag's Streaming in the Breeze
Amos Sisty - July 4, 1840
(Sung to the tune of "Buonaparte Crossing the Rhine")
The Star-Flag's streaming in the breeze;
And Hark! the cannon's roar;
Sounds our foaming Northern seas
To Mississippi's shore;
And millions raise their voices now.
In chorus glad and gay,
From crowded street - from mountain brow,
To hail the Immortal Day!
They gather in the city's hall,
They come in village street;
And on the hill-side's rock-made wall,
The friends of Freedom meet;
One object impels them on;
One end they keep in view;
To send the boon their fathers won,
Untarnished, ages through!
No petty jars the hour;
No local feelings away;
But, swelling in its sweeping power,
Pure Impulse hails the Day!
And keeps it, as our Fathers kept,
To Law and Freedom dear,
When freemen tyrants seaward swept
In battle's wild career.
Then, upward lift the grateful eye;
And make the silent vow,
That yonder Flag shall ever fly,
Unstained and bright as now!
That tyrants, in whatever form
They cross the Freeman's way,
Shall fell the fierce, indignant storm
That heralds on the fray!
And whether from a foreign shore
The foes of Freedom come;
With martial pomp, and cannon-roar,
And thunder-rolling drum;
Or, rising, like a baleful blight,
In this, our favored land;
Be always ready for the fight,
A self-devoted band.
Then, once again, beneath that Flag,
Proud streaming in the air,
From hill, and dale, and beething crag,
Send up the Freeman's prayer;
That while the Stars, in yon bright sphere
Their shining courses run,
May beam their Sister-Beacons here,
On millions joined in one!
Ode To Wyoming
Amos Sisty - July, 1841
Oh ! dark was the day when our forefathers fell;
When their homes by the red storm of war were o'er clouded;
When the Tory's fierce hate, and the Redman's wild yell,
Left the Vale, now so lovely, in sorrow enshrouded;
And the torch flaming high,
Lit the summer eve sky,
When the shout of the victor, and woman's lone cry,
Were sounds that were thrilling on Wyoming's shore,
And her bravest and best were asleep in their gore.
It has passed—but that day, in our memories true,
And the heroes who bled, shall be fitly recorded;
Nor longer, in vain, shall the past spirit sue;
The valor of lang syne will soon be rewarded.
Though an age may have rolled
Since the death-knell was tolled,
And the bones of the warrior lie mouldering and old;
We the Monument raise, on Wyoming's fair shore—
A land rendered sacred by brave hearts of yore.
And oh ! should a foeman again in our Vale
Bring the bright sword of war, and the cannon deep roaring,
Every arm would upraise, and the breath of the gale
Send the star-spangled flag to the high heavens soaring;
By the river's clear tide,
On the mountain's rock side,
Every son would the shock of invasion abide;
Their streams would run red with their enemy's gore,
And free be forever fair Wyoming's shore.
