The Past sweeps out, and the Present comes—
A Present that all have wrought!
And the sons of these sires, at the same campfires,
Cheer one flag where their fathers fought!
Yes, we know of the graves on the Southern hills
That are filled with the Blue and the Gray.
We know how they fought and how they died,
We honor them both there side by side,
And they’re brothers again to-day.
Brothers again—thank God on high!