She saw their birthright’s warrior-crown
Of olden glory spoil’d,
The standard of their sires borne down,
The shield’s bright blazon soil’d:
She met the tempest, meekly brave,
Then turn’d o’erwearied to the grave.
She slumber’d: but it came—it came,
Her land’s redeeming hour,
With the glad shout, and signal flame
Sent on from tower to tower!