War of 1812 Bicentennial

One voice, one people,—one in heart
And soul, and feeling, and desire!
Relight the smouldering martial fire,
Sound the mute trumpet, strike the lyre.
The hero-deed cannot expire;

Raise high the monumental stone!
A nation's fealty is theirs;
And we are the rejoicing heirs,
The honored sons of sires whose cares
We take upon us unawares,

We boast not of the victory,
But render homage, deep and just,
To his—to their—immortal dust,
Who proved so worthy of their trust;
No lofty pile nor sculptured bust

No tongue can blazon forth their fame—
The cheers that stir the sacred hill
Are but mere promptings of the will
That conquered then, that conquers still;
And generations yet shall thrill