Proud sons of the soil where the Palmetto grows,
Once patriots and brothers, now traitors and foes,
Ye have turned from the path which our forefathers’ trod,
And stolen from man the best gift of his God.
Ye have trampled the tendrils of love in the ground,
Ye have scoffed at the law which the Nazarene found,
Till the great wheel of Justice seemed blocked for a time,
And the eyes of humanity blinded with crime.
As the vail which conceals the clear starlight is riven
When clouds strike together, by warring winds driven,