Missouri

Missouri! Missouri! bright land of the West,
Where the wayworn emigrant always found rest,
Who gave to the farmer reward for the toil
Expended in breaking and turning the soil;
Awake to the notes of the bugle and drum!
Awake from your peace, for the tyrant hath come;
And swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven,
And add your bright star to our Flag of Eleven.

They'd force you to join in their unholy fight,
With fire and with sword, with power and with might,
'Gainst fathers and brothers, and kindred near,
'Gainst women and children, all you hold dear;
They've o'errun your soil, insulted your press;
Murdered your citizens, shown no redress;
So swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven,
And add your bright star to our Flag of Eleven.

Missouri! Missouri! where is thy proud fame?
Free land of the West, thy once cherished name
Trod in the dust by a tyrant's command,
Proclaiming there's martial law in the land,
Men of Missouri! strike without fear!
McCulloch, Jackson, and brave men are near;
So swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven,
And add your bright star to our Flag of Eleven.