"The Oath
or
Ye Freemen How Long Will Ye Stifle"
(1 Jun 1864)
[27086; Copyright Library 18 Jan 1865]

HAMLET— “Swear on my sword.”
GHOST. (below) “Swear!” — Shakespeare.

Words by
Thomas Buchanan Read
Music by
James Cox Beckel
A Tribute to the Great Sanitary Fair of
1864

The Proceeds of this Song are given to the Sanitary Commission.

Germantown, Philadelphia: J. C. Beckel
Lithograper: Geo. F. Swain
[Source: 1864-2000011812loC/CWM]

1. Ye freemen how long will ye stifle 
The vengence that justice inspires? 
With treason how long will ye trifle, 
And shame the proud name of your sires? 
Out, out with the sword and the rifle 
For defence of your homes and your fires. 

The flag of the old Revolution 
Swear firmly to serve and uphold, 
That no treasonous breath of pollution 
Shall tarnish one star of its fold. 
Swear!

CHORUS [sung after each verse]
Swear! “Swear, oh, Swear!” 
“Swear, oh, Swear!” 
Swear, oh, Swear 
Swear, oh, Swear, Swear. 
And hark, the deep voicees replying 
From graves where your fathers are lying, 
And hark, the deep voices replying 
From graves where your fathers are lying, 
Swear. “Swear, oh, Swear.”

2. In this moment when hesitates, barters
The rights which his forefathers won;
He forfeits all claim to the charters
Transmitted from sire to son.
Kneel, kneel at the graves of your martyrs,
And swear on your sword and your gun;

Lay up your great oath on an altar
As huge and as strong as Stone Henge;
And then with sword, fire and haltar,
Sweep down to the field of revenge.
Swear!

3. By the tomb of your sires and brothers,
The host which the traitors have slain;
By the tears of your sisters and mothers,
In secret concealing their pain,
The grief which the heroine smothers,
Consuming the heart and the brain,

By the sigh of the penniless widow,
By the sob of her orphan’s despair,
Where they sit in the sorrowful shadow,
Kneel, kneel every freeman and swear.
Swear!

4. On mounds which are met with the weeping
Where a nation has bowed to the sod,
Where the noblest of martyrs are sleeping,
Let the winds bear your vengeance abroard,
And your firm oaths be held in the keeping
Of your patriot hearts and your God.

Over ELLSWORTH, for whom the just tear rose,
While to BAKER and LYON you look;
By WINTHROP, a star among heroes,
By the blood of our murdered MC COOK.
Swear!