And not for us that noontide glow:
For us the strife and toil shall be;
But welcome toil, for now we know
Our children shall that glory see.
At last, at last, O Stars and Stripes!
Touched in your birth by Freedom's flame,
Your purifying lightning wipes
Out from our history its shame.
Stand to your faith, America!
Sad Europe listen to our call!
Up to your manhood, Africa!
That gracious flag floats over all.
And when the hour seems dark with doom,
Our sacred banner, lifted higher,
Shall flash away the gathering gloom
With inextinguishable fire.
Pure as its white the future see!
Bright as its red is now the sky!
Fixed as its stars the faith shall be,
That nerves our hands to do or die.
G. W. Curtis
CCCXXV.
AM I FOR PEACE? YES.
For the peace which rings out from the cannons' throat,
And the suasion of shot and shell,
Till Rebellion's spirit is trampled down
To the depths of its kindred hell.
For the peace which shall follow the squadron's tramp,
Where the brazen trumpets bray,
And, drunk with the fury of storm and strife,
The blood-red chargers neigh.
For the peace which shall wash out the leprous stain
Of our slavery—foul and grim,
And shall sunder the fetters which creak and clank
On the down-trodden dark man's limb.