It is thine—thou shall wave it with banner and plume
When the trumpet is heard in the war-cloud of gloom:
It is thine to defend thee when rebels conspire,
The choice of thy childhood—the sword of thy sire!
Deal.
It is thine—thou shall wave it with banner and plume
When the trumpet is heard in the war-cloud of gloom:
It is thine to defend thee when rebels conspire,
The choice of thy childhood—the sword of thy sire!
Deal.