4

The altar and the school still stand,
The sacred pillars of our trust,

And freedom's sons shall fill the land
When we are sleeping in the dust.

Before thine altar, Lord, we bend,
With grateful song and fervent prayer,
For thou who wast our fathers' friend
Wilt make our offspring still thy care.

P. M.

764.

H. WARE, JR.

The Progress of Freedom.

1 OPPRESSION shall not always reign;
There comes a brighter day,
When freedom, burst from every chain,
Shall have triumphant way.
Then right shall over might prevail,
And truth, like hero armed in mail,
The hosts of tyrant wrong assail,
And hold eternal sway.

2 What voice shall bid the progress stay
Of truth's victorious car?

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,
The fated, promised hour,

When earth upon a ransomed race
Her bounteous gifts shall shower.
Ring, Liberty, thy glorious bell!
Bid high thy sacred banner swell!
Let trump on trump the triumph tell
Of Heaven's redeeming power.

L. M.

765.

WHITTIER.

National Anniversary.

1 O THOU, whose presence went before
Our fathers in their weary way,
As with thy chosen moved of yore
The fire by night, the cloud by day!

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
Are round us as a mantle thrown,
And unto thee, supreme above,
The knee of prayer is bowed alone.

4 And grant, O Father, that the time.
Of earth's deliverance may be near,
When every land and tongue and clime
The message of thy love shall hear,-

When, smitten as with fire from heaven,
The captive's chain shall sink in dust,

And to his fettered soul be given
The glorious freedom of the just.

2

Prayer for our Country.

GOD bless our native land!
Firm may she ever stand
Through storm and night!
When the wild tempests rave,
Ruler of winds and wave!
Do thou our country save,
By thy great might.

For her our prayer shall rise
To God above the skies;

On him we wait;

Thou who hast heard each sigh
Watching each weeping eye,
Be thou for ever nigh;

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,
We seek thy gracious throne;
To Thee our faltering prayers ascend,
Our fainting hearts are known!

2 From blasts that chill, from suns that smite, From every plague that harms,

In camp and march, in siege and fight,
Protect our men-at-arms!

Though from our darkened lives tney take
What makes our life most dear,

We yield them for their country's sake
With no relenting tear.

4 Our blood their flowing veins will shed,
Their wounds our breasts will share;
O save us from the woes we dread,
Or grant us strength to bear!

5

6

Let each unhallowed cause that brings
The stern destroyer cease,

The flaming angel fold his wings,
And scraphs whisper Peace!

Thine are the sceptre and the sword,
Stretch forth Thy mighty hand, —
Reign Thou our kingless nation's Lord,
Rule Thou our throneless land!

L. M.

769.

O. W. HOLMES.

Army Hymn.

1 O LORD of Hosts! Almighty King!
Behold the sacrifice we bring!
To every arm thy strength impart,
Thy spirit shed through every heart!

2

Wake in our breast the living fires,
The holy faith that warmed our sires;