| WE sing "Our Country's" song to-night | |
| With saddened voice and eye; | |
| Her banner droops in clouded light | |
| Beneath the wintry sky. | |
| We 'll pledge her once in golden wine | 5 |
| Before her stars have set: | |
| Though dim one reddening orb may shine, | |
| We have a Country yet. | |
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| 'T were vain to sigh o'er errors past, | |
| The fault of sires or sons; | 10 |
| Our soldier heard the threatening blast, | |
| And spiked his useless guns; | |
| He saw the star-wreathed ensign fall, | |
| By mad invaders torn; | |
| But saw it from the bastioned wall | 15 |
| That laughed their rage to scorn! | |
| |
| What though their angry cry is flung | |
| Across the howling wave,— | |
| They smite the air with idle tongue | |
| The gathering storm who brave; | 20 |
| Enough of speech! the trumpet rings; | |
| Be silent, patient, calm,— | |
| God help them if the tempest swings | |
| The pine against the palm! | |
| |
| Our toilsome years have made us tame; | 25 |
| Our strength has slept unfelt; | |
| The furnace-fire is slow to flame | |
| That bids our ploughshares melt; | |
| 'T is hard to lose the bread they win | |
| In spite of Nature's frowns,— | 30 |
| To drop the iron threads we spin | |
| That weave our web of towns, | |
| |
| To see the rusting turbines stand | |
| Before the emptied flumes, | |
| To fold the arms that flood the land | 35 |
| With rivers from their looms,— | |
| But harder still for those who learn | |
| The truth forgot so long; | |
| When once their slumbering passions burn, | |
| The peaceful are the strong! | 40 |
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| The Lord have mercy on the weak, | |
| And calm their frenzied ire, | |
| And save our brothers ere they shriek, | |
| "We played with Northern fire!" | |
| The eagle hold his mountain height,— | 45 |
| The tiger pace his den! | |
| Give all their country, each his right! | |
| God keep us all! Amen! | |
