And close by the old homes laid to rest.
When the angel of peace, with brooding wing,
Shall fly o’er our land and its anthem sing,
With trembling fingers the strings she’ll sweep,
As she nears the spot where our loved ones sleep.
Then a costly crown will our country wear,
And bright the gems that shall sparkle there.
She shall sit a queen, peerless and free,
And the graves of her heroes her glory be!
Still firmly stand, in God your trust,