Wednesday, June 22, 2011


ABROAD in the breeze waves our starry flag,
Beneath its folds toil we.
While other nations their harvests reap,
And some are at play, and some asleep,
We are writing our history.
We write—not one to labor alone,
But thousands hold the pen.
Delicate youth and hoary age
Leave a record upon the page,
Fair women and stalwart men.
What does our history speak about,
What story does it tell?
It tells of struggles, of hopes, and fears,
Of heavy losses, and bitter tears
(The world knows the lesson well!);
Of gallant deeds to make one thrill,
And perils by land and sea;
Of children leaving their mother's side
To strike one blow, in their childish pride,
For the country of the free.
Oh! scornful world, watching without,
"Stricken of God!" ye say?
Nay, through the cloud as our fathers trod,
We are marching onward to meet our God,
His promise our only stay.
What though the sword from its scabbard leap,
And cannon the echoes wake!
Though thousands are falling beside us— Still
We follow boldly, for 'tis His will
That we suffer for Freedom's sake!
O not one star from our flag shall fade!
There our Father bade them be,
And said if we kept them free from stain
They should form forever a golden chain
To bind us to Liberty.
And so, though foreign foes would beguile,
And traitorous voices call;
Though armed hosts meet us at every turn,
On bonded knees an oath we have sworn,
That our banner shall never fall!
There is hardly a house where every chair
Is filled as it might have been,
Were there no blank sheets in our history,
To be filled ere another year we see—
And faster travels the pen.
It matters not, O doubting world!
That our labor be hard or long,
For never by man was a good work wrought
But angels first with the devil fought,
Yet Right will conquer Wrong.
Float on in the breeze, thou flag of hope!
Bravely beneath toil we!
While other nations their harvests reap,
With glorious deeds for memory's keep,
We are writing our history, 

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