Page:Poems Crandall.djvu/59

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Awake, sons—daughters of Freedom,
  What need of a longer delay?
Arise—prepare for the battle,
  Your country calls you—obey.

Ah, the enemy laughs; for protection
  He claims, neath the red and white bars;
Fight, fight till he's banished forever,
  From each state in the blue field of stars.



Peace
Despair not, gentle sister,
  Tho' faint with the heat of the day;
Tho' scorched and withered the roses,
  Whose thorns pierce thy feet on the way.

Still bravely struggle, my sister,
  The pain at thy heart shall cease;
Thou shalt hear in thy deepest anguish
  The voice of the Master—"Peace."

Find rest in this peace, sweet sister,
  Thou art worn with the toil of the day;
The roses died in life's morning,
  The thorns pierce thy feet on the way.

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