Poems of home and country Also, Sacred and Miscellaneous Verse |
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THE DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. |
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 | Poems of home and country |  |
THE DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
[_]
Written at the request of Mrs. Edward Roby, of Chicago, on the gift of an autograph copy of the hymn “America,” to Miss Eugenie Washington, a grand-niece of General Washington, in connection with the First Congress of the Daughters of the American Revolution, held in the City of Washington, June, 1892.
They gathered from the south and north,
The mountains and the sea,
In memory of the men who died,
Martyrs of liberty,—
Men pledged to plant, in this fair land,
A nation of the free;
The mountains and the sea,
In memory of the men who died,
Martyrs of liberty,—
Men pledged to plant, in this fair land,
A nation of the free;
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Who gave their wealth, who gave their blood,
And gave them not in vain;
And history spreads its halo round
Where rest the patriot slain.
Where Freedom's glorious spirit throbbed,
That spirit throbs again.
And gave them not in vain;
And history spreads its halo round
Where rest the patriot slain.
Where Freedom's glorious spirit throbbed,
That spirit throbs again.
The harvest sown in blood and tears
A grateful nation reaps;
A hallowed jubilee of love
The land they rescued keeps,
And o'er the green fields where they died
Its fragrant tribute heaps.
A grateful nation reaps;
A hallowed jubilee of love
The land they rescued keeps,
And o'er the green fields where they died
Its fragrant tribute heaps.
From east to west, from south to north,
From tossing sea to sea,
They breathe, in tones that love inspires,
“Sweet land of liberty,”
Singing, in joyful harmony,
“My country, 't is of thee.”
From tossing sea to sea,
They breathe, in tones that love inspires,
“Sweet land of liberty,”
Singing, in joyful harmony,
“My country, 't is of thee.”
The daughters of the good and brave
Shall keep their memory well;
And age to youth, and sire to son,
The grand old tale shall tell;
And woman's tears shall consecrate
The rich fields where they fell.
Shall keep their memory well;
And age to youth, and sire to son,
The grand old tale shall tell;
And woman's tears shall consecrate
The rich fields where they fell.
I see them where above them bends
The one o'er-arching sky;
I hear the tune from Northern throats,
I hear the South reply:
One heart, one home, one pulse, one land;
And one, we live or die.
The one o'er-arching sky;
I hear the tune from Northern throats,
I hear the South reply:
One heart, one home, one pulse, one land;
And one, we live or die.
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Sisters, accept this grateful pledge;
Our hopes, our hearts are one;
Or south, or north, naught shall divide,—
We live beneath one sun.
Peace breathes, in ecstasy of love;
The goal we seek is won.
Our hopes, our hearts are one;
Or south, or north, naught shall divide,—
We live beneath one sun.
Peace breathes, in ecstasy of love;
The goal we seek is won.
Davenport, Iowa, March 4, 1893.
| Poems of home and country | |