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William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.

A Dirge: ‘Hush’d be every joyful sound!’

Sung in Memory of Gen. Washington

Tune—“Hope, thou Nurse”

HUSH’D be every joyful sound!

Sorrow rends Columbia’s breast:

Deep, ah! deep’s the rankling wound,

Which destroys her wonted rest.

Gone her hero—tears must flow—

Ah! conceal your streaming eyes:

And, yet, who can hide their wo,

Though he dwells in milder skies!

Born to tread the lists of fame

Midst the tumults of the field,

Still he mark’d where terror came,

Calm’d each fear, and scorn’d to yield.

Danger call’d forth all his powers—

Daring, and yet coolly brave:

Firm he stood in darkest hours,

And, victorious, wish’d to save.

First in council and the field,

Peace her olive scarce could rear

Ere his breast (his country’s shield)

Was the cabinet of care.

Chaos, into order brought,

Own’d his kind, reforming hand;

Wisdom’s lesson, soon as taught,

Call’d him to supreme command.

How he steer’d the ship of state,

Wondering millions now applaud;

But a man, he yields to fate—

No, the providence of God.

States and empires rise and fall;

Men but live, progress, and die!

He obey’d his Maker’s call,

And, with him, he rests on high.