Gloria Mundi
Trafalgar's cannon, and the bugle's calls
Where France's armies thread the Alpine gorge,
The Campbell's pipes heard near to Lucknow's walls, The patriot's hymn that hallowed Valley Forge!
All, all are here ! The feeble and the strong ;
The spoiled beside the victors of the spoil Of twenty centuries swell the sacred song
Of human triumph won by human toil ! Up and yet upward to the heaven's wide arch
The thunders of the great thanksgiving roll To mark the way of that majestic march
Of mortal man toward his Maker's goal!
And while the echo of her folly dies,
As in the hills the sound of village bells, Upward from Paris to the April skies
Her hymn of rehabilitation swells ; From dark to dawn, from weakness back to strength,
The pendulum majestically swings, And o'er the ashes of her past at length
The phcenix of her future spreads its wings !
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