Songs of War and Country
To the American Flag
Starry folds, whose matchless splendor
Long hath blessed our grateful eyes;
Gleaming with a light more tender
Than your rivals in the skies;
Wave as always, in a glory
None may tarnish or excel;
Keep upon our lips the story
That our fathers loved to tell!
Long hath blessed our grateful eyes;
Gleaming with a light more tender
Than your rivals in the skies;
Wave as always, in a glory
None may tarnish or excel;
Keep upon our lips the story
That our fathers loved to tell!
May your grandeur be unceasing,
Proud reminder of the past;
As in noble rank increasing,
Each new ray outshines the last.
Yesterday for one young nation
You in valor were unfurled;
But today your constellation
Beams aloft for all the world!
Proud reminder of the past;
As in noble rank increasing,
Each new ray outshines the last.
Yesterday for one young nation
You in valor were unfurled;
But today your constellation
Beams aloft for all the world!
1918
The Old Sword
The old, old sword hangs on the wall,
Its edge, once keen, is notched and worn,
Yet belt and scabbard heard the call,
On fields once red e'er I was born!
Its edge, once keen, is notched and worn,
Yet belt and scabbard heard the call,
On fields once red e'er I was born!
Perchance one grasp'd this hilt, now old,
Upon the field of Bemis Heights,
While yoemanry, unbent and bold,
Cried freedom for a country's rights.
Upon the field of Bemis Heights,
While yoemanry, unbent and bold,
Cried freedom for a country's rights.
It may have clanked with Arnold's sword,
And Hashed in face of British foe;
Could this old blade but speak the word,
What blood and carnage it would show!
And Hashed in face of British foe;
Could this old blade but speak the word,
What blood and carnage it would show!
And yet the hand that grasped this blade,
Once led the fray on Bunker Hill,
Where, in the turmoil, battle made,
Foeman and friend lay cold and still.
Once led the fray on Bunker Hill,
Where, in the turmoil, battle made,
Foeman and friend lay cold and still.
Had it but speech, would it not tell,
How in the sulphurous, paling day,
Vast trees were rent with shot and shell,
While maddened hosts led on the fray?
How in the sulphurous, paling day,
Vast trees were rent with shot and shell,
While maddened hosts led on the fray?
When Wellington his forces led,
Against the sons of Gaul in blue,
A gallant leader bowed his head
On the gray fields of Waterloo.
Against the sons of Gaul in blue,
A gallant leader bowed his head
On the gray fields of Waterloo.
The old, old sword upon the wall,
Is resting now. Its work is done!
The belt and scabbard hear no call,
But slumber in oblivion.
Is resting now. Its work is done!
The belt and scabbard hear no call,
But slumber in oblivion.
1921
15
