As it fell again on the gore-wet plain
Till new hands swung it high—
As it dipped in rest to East and West
Where it watched its Children die:
As it swept anew o’er the shotted blue,
And the great gulls reeled in fright;
As it bore the brave ’neath the whispering wave
To the Squadron’s hushed Goodnight:
As it mounted sheer ’mid cheer on cheer,
Till, far o’er land and sea,
It gave each fold to the sunlight’s gold—
And the name of Victory.
Then on your feet when the first proud strain
Of the Anthem rolls on high—
And see that ye stand uncovered
To the Colors passing by
And pray to your God for strength to guard
The Flag ye glorify.
THE GREAT DOCTORS
Chiefs of all the Conquerors—
Kings above the Kings—
Fame beyond all earthly fame
Where the censer swings.
Brave and strong and silent—
Patient, cautious, calm—
E’en as the ministering angels—
Even as Gilead’s Balm—
They come; the quiet god-men,
Where hope has fled apace,
And the Reaper’s scythe is swaying
Across the ashen face.
No miracle proclaims them—
No thundering cheer and drum—
As creeps the light of the starlit night
God’s Emissaries come.