4 The altar and the school still stand, And freedom's sons shall fill the land Before thine altar, Lord, we bend, P. M. 764. H. WARE, JR. The Progress of Freedom. 1 OPPRESSION shall not always reign; 2 What voice shall bid the progress stay What arm arrest the growing day, Or quench the solar star? What reckless soul, though stout and strong, Shall dare bring back the ancient wrong, Oppression's guilty night prolong, And freedom's morning bar? The hour of triumph comes apace, When earth upon a ransomed race L. M. 765. WHITTIER. National Anniversary. 1 O THOU, whose presence went before 2 When from each temple of the free A nation's song ascends to heaven, Most holy Father, unto thee Now let our humble prayer be given. Sweet peace is here; and hope and love 4 And grant, O Father, that the time. When, smitten as with fire from heaven, And to his fettered soul be given 2 Prayer for our Country. GOD bless our native land! For her our prayer shall rise On him we wait; Thou who hast heard each sigh God save the state! P. M. 767. MRS. JULIA WARD HOWE. Battle Hymn of the Republic. 1 MINE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the 2 Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps ; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on. I have red a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: "As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of women, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on." He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judg ment-seat: O, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on. C. M. 768. O. W. HOLMES. Parting Hymn. 1 FATHER of Mercies, Heavenly Friend, 2 From blasts that chill, from suns that smite, From every plague that harms, In camp and march, in siege and fight, Though from our darkened lives tney take We yield them for their country's sake 4 Our blood their flowing veins will shed, 5 6 Let each unhallowed cause that brings The flaming angel fold his wings, Thine are the sceptre and the sword, L. M. 769. O. W. HOLMES. Army Hymn. 1 O LORD of Hosts! Almighty King! 2 Wake in our breast the living fires, |