So I cursed Him—and cursed Him—and cursed Him!
That He, in his greatness and power,
Had summoned my soul into being,
And made me to suffer one hour.
I cursed Him for all of my sorrow,
For all of my weakness and sin,
For all of my hatred and evil,
For darkness without and within.
My words were all molten and glowing,
As if from a furnace they came,
And the breath of my wrath made them hotter,
Till they burned with the fierceness of flame.
Then a light that was in me grew brighter,
Like sunshine poured into the heart;
I felt all my burdens grow lighter,
And the dross from my nature depart.
“My brother,” replied the bright Angel,
“Let the name of the Highest be blessed!
Lo! he renders thee blessing for cursing!
His will and His way are the best.
Thy soul in His sight hath been precious,
Since the birth of thy being began;
Thou art judged by the need of thy nature,
And not by the standard of man.”
Then out of my cursing and madness,
And out of the furnace of flame,
My soul, like a jewel of beauty,
Annealed through life’s processes came.
The forms of my loved ones were near me,
The night of my sorrow had passed;
God grant you, O mortals, who judged me,
As full an acceptance at last!
THE EAGLE OF FREEDOM.
O, Land of our glory, our boast, and our pride!
Where the brave and the fearless for Freedom have died,
How clear is the lustre that beams from thy name!
How bright on thy brow are the laurels of fame!
The stars of thy Union still burn in the sky,
And the scream of thine Eagle is heard from on high!
His eyrie is built where no foe can invade,
Nor traitors prevail with the brand and the blade!
CHORUS.
The Eagle of Freedom, in danger and night,
Keeps watch o’er our flag from his star-circled height.
From mountain and valley, from hill-top and sea,
Three cheers for the Eagle, the Bird of the Free!
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Eagle, the Bird of the Free!
Mount up, O thou Eagle! and rend, in thy flight,
The war-cloud that hides our broad banner from sight!
Guard, guard it from danger, though war-rent and worn,
And see that no star from its azure is torn!
Keep thy breast to the storm, and thine eye on the sun,
Till, true to our motto, THE MANY ARE ONE!
Till the red rage of war with its tumult shall cease,
And the dove shall return with the olive of peace.