Land of the Free
All hail to the flag of the land of the free,
O, where is the heart that's not beating for thee,
Or the hand that's reluctant to strike for any fame,
Till the foe turns his back and retires in shame,

The terror of tyrants, the hope of the slave,
The foul serpent flag and the traitor must flee
From the bright beaming Stars of the land of the free.
Our proud eagle's spurned by traitors and knaves,

Who boast that they can conquer and make us their slaves,
The legions of freedom shall rise in their might,
And the foes of our eagle must scatter in flight.
Ye sons of the North-land whose fathers have shed

Their blood for the flag of the blue, white and red;
The shades of your fathers now call unto thee
To strike for the flag of the land of the free.
The Goddess of Liberty shouts to the brave,

And points to the land of the chain and the Slave
Where the children of Africa in bondage and tears,
Must toil 'til the bright sun of Freedom appears.
''Tis the glory of freemen to shield the oppressed,

It brightens the halo round Liberty's crest;
March forward bold freemen, their hope rests on thee,
When you strike for the flag of the land of the free.
Shall the bright sun of Liberty set in the West,

And the emblems of Freedom be torn from our crest,
And the demon of Slavery stalk o'er the land
With bloodhounds and chains, and lash, and the brand!
Ah! No, see the host's of the North take the field,

To the minion's of slavery they never will yield,
The flag of the serpent and traitor must flee
From the time-honored flag of the land of the free.
From wood-lands and prairies, from hamlets afar,

The sons of the North rushes on to the war,
From hill tops and valley, hark! hear the loud cry,
For the Star Spangled Banner we'll conquer or die,
For rights that are sacred, we welcome the fight.

We fear not the foe, 'tho he boasts of his rights,
The palmetto banner and traitor must flee
From the bright beaming stars of the land of the free.
Dear, dear to our hearts are the youth of our land

Who shield their loved country with heart and with hand,
O, Bless'd be the sons of the land of the brave.
Who go forth to conquer, or sink in the grave.
O, God of our fathers, in thee is our trust,

Go with them to battle, their cause is just,
They fight not alone when their trust is in thee,
O, smile on the sons of the land of the free.
Hark! Liberty shrieks the brave Ellsworth has fell,

And a nation in tears hears the sound of his knell,
He has torn from its staff the foul flag of the foe
And felt the assassins base treacherous blow,
Woe, woe, to the traitors, their doom must be nigh,

The blood of the Hero for vengeance doth cry,
And the flag of Columbia in mourning doth wave,
O'er the tomb of her Ellsworth, the daring Zouave.
The war-drum is rolling, the shrill bugle sounds.

The cannon is roaring, its thunder resounds,
With cheers for our banner, and Death for its foe,
From the land of the brave to the battle we go,
Our hands they are willing, our hearts they are true

To the homes of our fathers, and lov'd ones adieu,
When the proud foe is conquered, we hasted to thee,
With the Rebel's flag under the land of the free.

by Robert D. Rickaby, father of 4 sons in
5th. 16th.,14th., and the 21st. Wisconsin Infantry
and father-in-law to 3 in Co. E, 14th WI.
From the Manitowoc Weekly Tribune on Wed, June 19, 1861