Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Americas: Vol. XXX. 1876–79.
National Hymn
By Don Vincente LopezH
We are free! we are free! we are free!
Hark! hear you, our fetters are breaking!
On her throne noble Liberty see!
In the sight of the world has arisen
A nation glorious, rejoicing, and free,
Her fair brow with laurels encircled,
The proud lion of Spain at her knee.
Green forever be the laurels
Which our brows encircle high!
We ’ve won them, we ’ll wear them with glory,
Let us swear, when we lose them, to die!”
Great Mars with fell rage does inspire;
With fury each brave heart is burning,
And glows with the heaven-kindled fire.
The earth with our firm tramp is shaking,
The Inca is roused in his grave,
For he feels that his children are waking
The proud name of their country to save!
From the cities it echoes afar;
The plains all around are resounding
With “Liberty, vengeance, and war!”
The breast of the proud-hearted tyrants
Foul envy has touched with her gall,
And now, their red banner unfurling,
For battle and slaughter they call.
The march of the tyrants we see,
Hear the wail of the blood-flowing cities,
Cochabamba, La Paz, Potosí!
See them now upon mourning Caraccas
Bring carnage and weeping and woe!
Now behold them, like tigers devouring
The nations their power has brought low!
The invader has come in his pride!
Your plains he is trampling, insulting,
And thinks o’er your glories to ride!
But soon on these bloodthirsty tigers
Our stout-hearted champions shall fall,
And vainly shall they be resisted
Who rallied at Liberty’s call.
Are rushing with generous zeal;
Through the plains of the South is resounding
The trumpet’s awakening peal!
The hosts of the Union are marching,
Buenos Ayres the van does maintain,
And the arms of our champions are tearing
The proud, cruel Lion of Spain!
Both Piedras, Salta, Tucuman,
And the tyrant’s sure stronghold, Colonia,
And those in the Band Oriental,
Bear inscriptions eternal that tell us
“The Argentines here conquered their foe,
Here the cruel oppressor was vanquished,
And here his proud head was brought low!”
Above us is soaring on high,
And the tyrant’s base, cowardly minions
In fear from the battle-field fly!
His banners, his arms, now surrendered,
As Liberty’s trophies we own,
And the nation, triumphant in glory,
Is crowding round Liberty’s throne!
The shrill-blowing trumpet of fame,
It tells and repeats to all nations
The sound of America’s name!
Now, Liberty’s throne in surrounding
Hear it ringing from mountain to sea!
“God save the Argentine Republic!”
“God prosper the land of the free!”
Green forever be the laurels
Which our brows encircle high!
We ’ve won them, we ’ll wear them with glory,
Let us swear, when we lose them, to die!”