Nor here, alone, the Hand mysterious and divine;—
Manila’s equal miracle foreshowed
The Providential path, with yet unsealèd sign,
Where first our arms to scathless triumph rode.
True to the unsought task we could not comprehend,—
By foes maligned, by friends misunderstood,
This faith sustained us still, to the appointed end:—
Heaven serves the Sword unsheath’d for human good.
Clear, now, the purpose of the Highest,—plain His plan:—
To mould the Nation after His own mind,