'Tis morning at Manila,
The first dawn of the May;
Along the eastern horizon
We see the light of day.
As spreads its golden splendor
And drives away the night,
The hills that guard the islands
Are decked with diamonds bright.
The cocoa palms so olden,
Now robed in silvered green,
Stretch their broad branches heav'nward
To golden fields serene.
And yon cathedral spire gleams
With glory from the skies;
The beauty of the Sabbath
Across the city lies.
A little bay rests softly
Among those sun-kissed isles,
Reflecting heaven's azure,
And basking in God's smiles.
Upon its sleeping waters
A Spanish squadron lies;
Her flags unfurl their folds, and
Upon sweet breezes rise.
Lo! another fleet approaches,
More beauteous and grand;
The flag she bears so proudly
Has waved o'er Freedom's land!
She comes across the billows,
And in Freedom's cause to-day
The smoke and fire of battle
Enfold Manila Bay.
Look! on Fort Cavite they're firing!
Their efforts now prevail;
'Tis shattered into splinters,
And Spanish cheeks grow pale
The cannons belch forth thunder!
The shells burst thick and fast!
With might charge Freedom's heroes,
Amid the purple blast.
The handsome flagship Reina
Christina's sinking now;
She's robed in flames and ruin,
From th' Olympia's snowy bow.
Now all the Spanish squadron,
Its proud and dauntless crew,
Sinks 'mid the storm of battle,
'Neath troubled waters blue.
Nor falls a single hero
In Freedom's cause so true,
While fighting 'neath the banner
That's red and white and blue.
The Philippines are freed from
All tyrant rule and reign,
_Avenged_ the noble sailors
On board our gallant Maine!
The gory hands of Spain are
In ocean waters laved,
O'er whose enchanted bosom
This morn her banner waved.
Hills, mountains, vales, and rocks ring
With shouts of victory,
As falls the sunset's crimson
Across the earth and sea.
And Dewey's noble squadron,
That bravely won the day,
On drowsy winds is floating
"Old Glory" o'er the bay.
All hail! our great commander,
Thou hero of the sea,
With your brave and noble boys you
Have captured victory.
Your name is wreathed in glory,
Its praises will be sung
Wherever Freedom's flag is
To Freedom's breezes flung.
The guns you've fired to-day,
On the first of flow'ring May,
Will thunder o'er Spain's hilltops
Ten thousand miles away!
Fling higher Freedom's emblem!
Long may its colors wave
Where God has given victory
To Freedom's noble brave.