The Kentucky Gazette

Sacred to The Muses.

THE MARSEILLES MARCH.

Sung by the Marseillois going to Battle, by Gen. Kerman's Army, instead of Te Deum, as ordered by the National Convention—and at the different Theatres in Paris.

YE sons of France awake to glory,
Hark! hark! what myriads bid thee rise;
Your children, wives, and grand-sires hoary,
Behold their tears and hear their cries!

Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding,
With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate the land,
While peace and liberty lie bleeding?

To arms! to arms, ye brave,
Th' avenging sword unsheath,
March on, march on, all hearts resolved
On victory or death.

Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling,
Which treacherous kings, confederate, raise;
The dogs at war let loose are howling,
And lo! our fields and cities blaze:

And shall we basely view the ruin
While lawless force, with guilty stride,
Spreads desolation far and wide,
With crimes and blood his hands imbruing?

To arms, ye brave, &c.

Vain luxury and pride surround
The vile iniquitous despots dare,
Their thirst of power and gold unbounded,
To meet and vend the light and air;

Like beasts of burden would they load us,
Like gods would bid their slaves adore:
But man is man, and who is more?
Then shall they longer lash and goad us?

To arms, ye brave, &c.

O Liberty! can man resign thee,
Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons, bolts, and bars confine thee,
Or whips thy noble spirit tame?

Too long the world has wept, bewailing
That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield;
But freedom is our sword and shield,
And all their arts are unavailing.

To arms, ye brave, &c.