We knew it in those darker days
When all the kind, familiar ways
And all the tenderness of life
Seemed lost in bitterness and strife;
When, torn with shot and riddled through,
Lay in the dust our Red and Blue,
Dropped by the gallant hands that bore,
“The nation’s heart is sound at core.”
We said it when the war-cloud rent,
And out of field and out of tent