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| THE HEART leaps with the pride of their story, | |
| Predestinate lords of the sea! | |
| They are heirs of the flag and its glory, | |
| They are sons of the soil it keeps free; | |
| For their deeds the serene exaltation | 5 |
| Of a cause that was stained with no shame, | |
| For their dead the proud tears of a nation, | |
| Their fame shall endure with its fame. | |
| |
| The fervor that grim, unrelenting, | |
| The founders in homespun had fired, | 10 |
| With blood the free compact cementing, | |
| Was the flame that their souls had inspired. | |
| They were sons of the dark tribulations, | |
| Of the perilous days of the birth | |
| Of a nation sprung free among nations, | 15 |
| A new hope to the children of earth! | |
| |
| They were nerved by the old deeds of daring, | |
| Every tale of Decatur they knew, | |
| Every ship that, the bright banner bearing, | |
| Shot to keep it afloat in the blue; | 20 |
| They were spurred by the splendor undying | |
| Of Somer’s fierce fling in the bay, | |
| And the watchword that Lawrence died crying, | |
| And of Cushing’s calm courage were they. | |
| |
| By the echo of guns at whose thunder | 25 |
| Old monarchies crumbled and fell, | |
| When the war ships were shattered asunder | |
| And their pennants went down in the swell; | |
| By the strength of the race that, unfearing, | |
| Faces death till the death of the last, | 30 |
| Or has sunk with the fierce Saxon cheering, | |
| Its colors still nailed to the mast— | |
| |
| So they fought—and the stern race immortal | |
| Of Cromwell and Hampton and Penn | |
| Has thrown open another closed portal, | 35 |
| Stricken chains from a new race of men. | |
| So they fought, so they won, so above them | |
| Blazed the light of a consecrate aim; | |
| Empty words! Who may tell how we love them, | |
| How we thrill with the joy of their fame! | 40 |
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