the free and the home of the brave.
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
2 On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses ;
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream.
'Tis the star-spangled banner; O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
3 And where is that band, who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more-
Their blood has washed out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge can save the hireling and slave,
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
4 O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
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Between their loved home and the war's desolation;
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto-"In GOD is our trust-
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
ADDITIONAL VERSE, BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
When our land is illumined with Liberty's smile,
If a foe from within strike a blow at her glory,
Down, down with the traitor that dares to defile
The flag of her stars and the page of her glory!
By the millions unchained who our birthright have gained,
We will keep her bright blazon forever unstained!
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
While the land of the free is the home of the brave.
See! the strife will soon be done; Then struggle manful - ly.
Soldiers of the Cross, arise! (Continued from opposite page.)
Fear not, onward, noble band,
Marching through a hostile land:
Guided by a mighty hand,
Ye shall win the day.
Faithful to your banner be,
Ever fighting manfully:
Laurels shall be won by thee,
Fading not away.
BY THE LATE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN, D.D.,
OF CHARLESTON, S.C.
WHO would sever Freedom's shrine?
Who would draw the hateful line?
Though by birth one spot be mine,
Dear is all the rest.
Dear to me the South's fair land;
Dear the Central mountain-land;
Dear New-England's rocky strand;
Dear the prairied West.
By our altars, pure and free;
By our laws' deep-rooted tree;
By the Past's dread memory;
By our Washington;
By our common kindred tongue,
By our hopes,-bright, buoyant, young;
By the tie of country strong,-
We will still be one!
Fathers! have ye bled in vain?
Ages! must ye droop again?
Maker!-shall we rashly stain
Blessings sent by thee?
No! Receive our solemn vow,
While before thy throne we bow,
Ever to maintain, as now,
"Union, Liberty!"
Thy Country calls thee.
ROUSE ye at your country's call! Patriots, rouse ye one and all! Will you see your country fall Into anarchy?
See! our Spangled Banner waves High above our fathers' graves: Will their sons be coward slaves, Unworthy to be free?
See Rebellion lift its head
Where the patriot's blood was shed;
Where repose the illustrious dead, -
The sires of Liberty!
Freemen! will ye cringe and cower
Now in this decisive hour?
Will ye fear Rebellion's power?
Will ye bow the knee?
"No!" I hear it thundered forth
From the true and loyal North.
Duty calls each man of worth
To uphold our laws.
Up! and arm you for the fight;
Battle for your country's right;
Put the traitor foe to flight:
God will speed his cause.
Wives and mothers, do your part; Let no gathering tear-drop start: Though it rend the bursting heart,
Speed them on their way. Friends of Freedom, swell the song; Be your chorus loud and long; Make the Union army strong, And on to victory.
They are Slaves who fear to Speak.
MEN! whose boast it is that ye Come of fathers brave and free, If there breathe on earth a slave, Are ye truly brave?
If ye do not feel the chain When it works a brother's pain, Are ye not base slaves indeed, Unworthy to be freed?
They are slaves who fear to speak
For the fallen and the weak;
They are slaves who will not choose
Scoffing and abuse,
Rather than in silence shrink
From the truth they needs must think; They are slaves who dare not be
Right with two or three.
Yet one thing secures us,whatever betide, The promise assures us, the Lord will provide.
2 The birds, without barn or storehouse are fed;
From them let us learn to trust for our bread :
His saints what is fitting shall ne'er be denied,
So long as 'tis written,-The Lord will provide.
3 No strength of our own, nor goodness we claim :
Our trust is all thrown on Jesus's Name;
In this our strong tower for safety we hide;
The Lord is our power,-The Lord will provide.
4 When life sinks apace, and death is in view,
The word of his grace shall comfort us through;
Not fearing or doubting, with Christ on our side,
We hope to die shouting-The Lord will provide.
Thanksgiving and Praise.
My soul, praise the Lord, speak good of his name,
His mercies record, his bounties proclaim:
To God, their Creator, let all creatures raise
The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise.
Though, hid from man's sight, God sits on his throne,
Yet here by his works their Author is known:
The world shines, a mirror, its Maker to show;
And heaven views its image reflected below.
(Continued from opposite page.)
By knowledge supreme, by wisdom divine,
God governs this earth with gracious design:
O'er beast, bird, and insect his providence reigns;
Whose will first created, whose love still sustains.
And man, his last work, with reason endued;
Who, falling through sin, by grace is renewed,-
To God, his Creator, let man ever raise
The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise.
Oh! tell of his might, and sing of his grace;
Whose robe is the light; whose canopy, space:
His chariots of wrath the deep thunder-clouds form,
And dark is his path on the wings of the storm.
Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air, it shines in the light,
It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,
And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain.
Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail:
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Preserver, and Friend!
Father Almighty, how faithful thy love!
While angels delight to hymn thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,
With true adoration shall lisp to thy praise.
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