THE FLAG OF THE CONSTELLATION.
By T. BUCHANAN REID.
The stars of our morn on our banner borne,
With the iris of heav'n are blended,
The hands of our sires first mingled those fires,
By us they shall be defended!
Then hail the true—the Red, White, and Blue,
The flag of the Constellation;
It sails as it sailed, by our fore-fathers hailed,
O'er battles that made us a nation.
What hand so bold to strike from its fold,
One star or stripe of its bright'ning;
To him be each star a fiery Mars,
Each stripe a terrible lightning.
Then hail the true—the Red, White, and Blue,
The flag of the Constellation.
It sails as it sailed, by our fore-fathers hailed,
O'er battles that made us a nation.
Its meteor form shall ride the storm
Till the fiercest of foes surrender;
The storm gone by, it shall gild the sky,
As a rainbow of peace and splendor.
Then hail the true—the Red, White, and Blue,
The flag of the Constellation,
It sails as it sailed, by our fore-fathers hailed,
O'er battles that made us a nation.
Peace, peace to the world—is our motto unfurled,
Tho' we shun not a field that is gory;
At home or abroad, fearing none but our God,
We will carve our own pathway to glory!
Then hail the true—the Red, White, and Blue,
The flag of the Constellation,
It sails as it sailed, by our fore-fathers hailed,
O'er battles that made us a nation,
Florence, Italy, May, 1861.
