 | Songs of two centuries |  |
104
THE MARCH OF THE VOLUNTEERS.
They marched their ways through the sunlit days—
A pageant bright and strong;
Oh many a word of cheer they heard
From many a crowded throng!
'Twas the orator's cry, “You pencil high
In letters of gold each name:
As you walk the streets to loud drum-beats,
You are climbing the hills of fame!”
'Twas the matron's cry, “There is suffering nigh,
To furrow the laurelled brow;
But never was yet a mother's debt
More splendidly paid than now!”
'Twas the maiden's cry, “It is sweet to die
For the country's sake, 'tis said;
But be you true, my lover in blue,
I will love you alive or dead!”
A pageant bright and strong;
Oh many a word of cheer they heard
From many a crowded throng!
'Twas the orator's cry, “You pencil high
In letters of gold each name:
As you walk the streets to loud drum-beats,
You are climbing the hills of fame!”
'Twas the matron's cry, “There is suffering nigh,
To furrow the laurelled brow;
But never was yet a mother's debt
More splendidly paid than now!”
'Twas the maiden's cry, “It is sweet to die
For the country's sake, 'tis said;
But be you true, my lover in blue,
I will love you alive or dead!”
They marched their ways in the bright spring days
Past statues great and tall
Of the country's pride, who had lived or died
And given the land their all.
And Lincoln seemed to the heart that dreamed,
From his chiselled lips to speak:
“The mission of might should be to fight
For those that are crushed and weak!”
And Grant spoke loud to the marching crowd,
“Make heavy and hard your blows;
The shortest way to a peaceful day
Is over a field of foes!”
And Fame's star-son, our Washington,
Spoke then from his kingless throne,
“You are heart and hand with the greatest land
That ever the world has known!”
Past statues great and tall
Of the country's pride, who had lived or died
And given the land their all.
And Lincoln seemed to the heart that dreamed,
From his chiselled lips to speak:
“The mission of might should be to fight
For those that are crushed and weak!”
And Grant spoke loud to the marching crowd,
“Make heavy and hard your blows;
The shortest way to a peaceful day
Is over a field of foes!”
And Fame's star-son, our Washington,
Spoke then from his kingless throne,
“You are heart and hand with the greatest land
That ever the world has known!”
| Songs of two centuries | |