That waving free shall cover thee
While lasts the human race—
The flag that to the breeze we threw
When skies of hope were bare,
Its red our blood, the sky its blue,
Its stars our watchlights there.
Full oft the ocean harvests at thy doors
Shed sodden grain upon thy threshing floors,
The sound, sweet ears with wild tares reached thee mixed,
Long-fixed beliefs came hitherward unfixed.