When crash of worlds and revolving spheres
Shall lose in chaos, identity;
And Time shall be measured not by years,
But on shall roll through eternity;
Then Liberty's form may sink in dust;
But loyal sons shall transported be
From the mundane scenes of moth and rust,
To the perfect home of Liberty.
I ween that when such an hour as this,
Shall marshal friends who have fought and died
For the sacred cause of earthly bliss,
And Freedom's cause have so magnified,
There shall be a special crown for him
Who has stood undaunted in the fight;
But the brightest star in the diadem
Is steadfast love for the Truth and Right.
"LO," THE DEPARTED.
The Bison strong and the Indian wild
Have departed from our plains;
The land where they lived has been defiled
By man's greed for worldly gains.
The human tide that on them has rolled
In merciless energy,
In search of that dazzling monarch Gold,
Swept on like a mighty sea,
Till their prostrate forms, mingled with clay,
Enrich the soil once their own;
And naught but waters shrink in dismay,
And winds in wild sorrow moan.
O, beautiful lakes and silver streams,
May your names their mem'ry keep;
Dear mountains, wake from your silent dreams,
When your sides so wild and steep,