An Election Song

And do they scorn Tre, Pol, and Pen ?
And shall Trelawny die ?
Here's twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why !

The former spirit is not fled,
Where Cornish hearts combine,
We bow before the noble dead,
And laud their living line !

Be chainless as yon rushing wave,
Free as your native air ;
But honour to the good and brave,
And homage to the fair !

Think on the warrior's waving hand,
The patriot's lasting fame,
And follow o'er the Rocky Land,
The old Trelawny name !

Up with your hearts, Tre, Pol, and Pen !
They bid Trelawny die :
But twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why !