Poems (Chilton, 1885)/The Crisis
THE CRISIS.
[SEPTEMBER, 1872.]
The cannons' thunders jar the air, While mingled with the battle crySwells the blown bugle's ringing blare;But over all I hear the prayer Breathed by our sires in days gone by.
'Twas theirs to win; 'tis ours to guard; They faltered not when faint and few;And shall we deem the service hardWho bear the banner many-starred, O'er which their victor eagle flew?
O not in vain their memories plead That we should walk the narrow way,Content to scorn each selfish creed,And in our fathers' valor read The noble lesson of To-Day.