Songs of Many Seasons (1862-74) | Page 7

pain,
The
soldier's turfy pillow, red
With battle's crimson rain.
No smoke of burning stains the air,
No incense-clouds arise;
Thy
peaceful servants, Lord, prepare
A bloodless sacrifice.
Lo! for our wounded brothers' need,
We bear the wine and oil;
For
us they faint, for us they bleed,
For them our gracious toil!
O Father, bless the gifts we bring!
Cause Thou thy face to shine,

Till every nation owns her King,
And all the earth is thine.
1865.
UNDER THE WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE
APRIL 27,1861
EIGHTY years have passed, and more,
Since under the brave old tree

Our fathers gathered in arms, and swore
They would follow the
sign their banners bore,
And fight till the land was free.
Half of their work was done,
Half is left to do,--
Cambridge, and
Concord, and Lexington!
When the battle is fought and won,
What
shall be told of you?
Hark!--'t is the south-wind moans,--
Who are the martyrs down?
Ah,
the marrow was true in your children's bones
That sprinkled with
blood the cursed stones
Of the murder-haunted town!
What if the storm-clouds blow?
What if the green leaves fall?

Better the crashing tempest's throe
Than the army of worms that
gnawed below;
Trample them one and all!
Then, when the battle is won,
And the land from traitors free,
Our
children shall tell of the strife begun
When Liberty's second April sun


Was bright on our brave old tree!
FREEDOM, OUR QUEEN
LAND where the banners wave last in the sun,
Blazoned with
star-clusters, many in one,
Floating o'er prairie and mountain and sea;

Hark! 't is the voice of thy children to thee!
Here at thine altar our vows we renew
Still in thy cause to be loyal
and true,--
True to thy flag on the field and the wave,
Living to
honor it, dying to save!
Mother of heroes! if perfidy's blight
Fall on a star in thy garland of
light,
Sound but one bugle-blast! Lo! at the sign
Armies all
panoplied wheel into line!
Hope of the world! thou'hast broken its chains,--
Wear thy bright
arms while a tyrant remains,
Stand for the right till the nations shall
own
Freedom their sovereign, with Law for her throne!
Freedom! sweet Freedom! our voices resound,
Queen by God's
blessing, unsceptred, uncrowned!
Freedom, sweet Freedom, our
pulses repeat,
Warm with her life-blood, as long as they beat!
Fold the broad banner-stripes over her breast,--
Crown her with
star-jewels Queen of the West!
Earth for her heritage, God for her
friend,
She shall reign over us, world without end!
ARMY HYMN
"OLD HUNDRED"
O LORD of Hosts! Almighty King!
Behold the sacrifice we bring

To every arm thy strength impart,
Thy spirit shed through every
heart!

Wake in our breasts the living fires,
The holy faith that warmed our
sires;
Thy hand hath made our Nation free;
To die for her is serving
Thee.
Be Thou a pillared flame to show
The midnight snare, the silent foe;

And when the battle thunders loud,
Still guide us in its moving
cloud.
God of all Nations! Sovereign Lord
In thy dread name we draw the
sword,
We lift the starry flag on high
That fills with light our
stormy sky.
From treason's rent, from murder's stain,
Guard Thou its folds till
Peace shall reign,--
Till fort and field, till shore and sea,
Join our
loud anthem, PRAISE TO THEE!
PARTING HYMN
"DUNDEE"
FATHER of Mercies, Heavenly Friend,
We seek thy gracious throne;

To Thee our faltering prayers ascend,
Our fainting hearts are
known
From blasts that chill, from suns that smite,
From every plague that
harms;
In camp and march, in siege and fight,
Protect our
men-at-arms
Though from our darkened lives they take
What makes our life most
dear,
We yield them for their country's sake
With no relenting tear.
Our blood their flowing veins will shed,
Their wounds our breasts
will share;
Oh, save us from the woes we dread,
Or grant us
strength to bear!
Let each unhallowed cause that brings
The stern destroyer cease,

Thy flaming angel fold his wings,
And seraphs whisper Peace!

Thine are the sceptre and the sword,
Stretch forth thy mighty hand,--

Reign Thou our kingless nation's Lord,
Rule Thou our throneless
land!
THE FLOWER OF LIBERTY
WHAT flower is this that greets the morn,
Its hues from Heaven so
freshly born?
With burning star and flaming band
It kindles all the
sunset land
Oh tell us what its name may be,--
Is this the Flower of
Liberty?
It is the banner of the free,
The starry Flower of Liberty!
In savage Nature's far abode
Its tender seed our fathers sowed;
The
storm-winds rocked its swelling bud,
Its opening leaves were
streaked with blood,
Till Lo! earth's tyrants shook to see
The
full-blown Flower of Liberty
Then hail the banner of the free,
The
starry Flower of Liberty!
Behold its streaming rays unite,
One mingling flood of braided
light,--
The red that fires the Southern rose,
With spotless white
from Northern snows,
And, spangled o'er its azure, see
The sister
Stars of Liberty!
Then hail the banner of the free,
The starry Flower
of Liberty!
The blades of heroes fence it round,
Where'er it springs is holy
ground;
From tower and dome its glories spread;
It waves where
lonely sentries tread;
It makes the land as ocean free,
And plants an
empire on the sea!
Then hail the banner of the free,
The starry
Flower of Liberty!