Air – Hail to the Chief.

He’s come, he has come, the Steamer is landing,
Mitchel has come to the home of the free,
The brave sons of Erin around him are standing,
To welcome the Patriot, doomed an exile to be,
On a gay, noble charger the brave MITCHEL mounted,
But first leave of absence to his keeper returned,
Leagues, miles and furlongs, were swiftly then counted,
On England his back he indignantly turned.

Dry thy and tears, ye brave sons of Erin,
Your MITCHEL is safe on freedom’s bright shore,
In health, peace, and comfort, in glory appearing,
The days of his exile in Australia are o’er.
Freemen break forth in songs of rejoicing,
Hail to the Chief from the Emerald Isle,
Though sad was thy bosom, and tears thine eyes moistening,
Thy sadness and sorrow are changed to a smile.

A welcome, brave MITCHEL, the champion of Freedom,
Thrice welcome art thou to the home of the brave,
God be praised thou art free from tyranny’s thraldom,
To the power of Great Britain no longer a Slave.
The name of JOHN MITCHEL, the Patriot and exile,
Will be lauded by Freemen, from North to South Pole,
Till time shall have written the Patriot’s profile,
In letters of gold, on Eternity’s scroll.