Through the fierce tumult pierced his warning word,
Their father’s voice his erring children heard!
The change for which he prayed and sought
In that sharp agony was wrought;
No partial interest draws its alien line
’Twixt North and South, the cypress and the pine!
One people now, all doubt beyond,
His name shall be our Union-bond;
We lift our hands to heaven, and here, and now,
Take on our lips the old Centennial vow.