Why lift the banner, with its star-lit folds,
And give it honors grandest and the best,
Unless its blood-stripes and its stars of gold
Bring ransom to the toiler,-to weary, rest?
Ah, ha! there's a secret in the stars and stripes;
It was the emblem of our nation's sire,
And from the story of his father's strifes
He gathered zeal which did his youth inspire. Fearless and keen in the border battle,
Careless of risk while dealing blow for blow, What did he care for yell or rifle-rattle,
If be, in peril, only duty e'er could know?
As thus in youth he measured well his work,
And filled that measure ever full and true,
So thence to him to lead the nation looked
When all to arms in holy frenzy flew.
Grand faith was that to inspire our sires,
And honor him, so true, with chief command,
And fervid be our joy, while beacon-fires
Do honor to this hero through the land.
Strike, strike, O Liberty, thy silver strings!
Bid nations many in the contest try;
Tell them, oh, tell, of all thy mercy brings
For all that languish, be it far and nigh;
For all oppressed the time shall surely come
When, stripped of fear, and hushed each plaintive cry,
All, all will find, will find in Washington
The model guide, for now, for aye, for aye!
(Written for the Columbian School Celebration, 1892. Air, "The Red, White, and Blue.")
CHEER, cheer we the Flag of the nation,
On liberty's breeze unfurled,
The glory of manhood's creation,
The Pilot of Peace in the world.
Cheer the Flag that our fathers, undaunted,
Proclaimed, when the nation was new,
Should float for the freedom they planted,
And be to the Right ever true.
Cheer, cheer we the Flag ever true!
Cheer, cheer we the Flag ever true!
The Flag by the patriots planted,
The Flag to the Right ever true.
Flag that floats for that morning of wonder
That heard on the ocean impearled
gun of the caravel thunder
That shook the new shores of the world;
Flag that floats in its majesty splendid,
And shall float in humanity's name,
For the cause that our fathers defended,
For the Right on the red fields of flame.
Old banners of royalty faded,
The lions, the lilies of gold,
And the Flag no dishonor had shaded,
The stars of the empire enrolled,
And bore it, the pioneers glorious,
The dim forest-ways as they trod,
From ocean to ocean victorious,
For the Right and the freedom of God.
Let the School, for America's glory,
The pledge of the fathers renew;
Four hundred years thrilling with story,
A thousand years rising in view;
And as long as the old constellation
Shall gleam on the Flag of the light,
The School shall be true to the nation,
And the nation be true to the Right.
HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.
THE FLAG THE EMIGRANTS CHEERED.
GIBRALTAR rose dark, and the sun's disk burned low,
Like a far gate of heaven with banners aglow,
And red o'er the Pillars of Hercules blazed
The star of the pilots of old as we gazed,
And swift the breeze freshened, and deep boomed the gun,
And the ships of the nations swept by one by one,
The Red Cross of England, the Tricolor proud,
And the dark German Eagles in billows of cloud.
Then the Flag of the Stars from the Western waves came,
And passed in review by the old flags of fame.
"Why are the ships shouting?" Our feet forward pressed.
"Tis the emigrants cheering." "Which flag?" "Of the
The Cross of St. George
Floated free o'er the main,
The black German Eagles,
The Lions of Spain,
And the flags of all seas
In the bright straits appeared,
But, oh! 'twas my own flag
The emigrants cheered.
The emigrant mothers their gladdened eyes raised,
And memories wove of the past as they gazed,
And their thin hands they waved 'neath the lone Afric star,
And greeted the flag of the new lands afar.
Then the emigrant children laughed out with the rest
As their eyes caught the light of the Flag of the West.
Laugh on, little ones, in your star-lighted way
To the lakes of the States and the Georgian Bay,
Round the flag of your birthright the sea-birds are veering, 'Tis for you, not themselves, the old mothers are cheering. The Red Cross of St. George
Waves free o'er the main,
The Gallic Tricolor,
The Lions of Spain,
And the flags of all seas
In the bright straits appear,
But, oh! 'tis my own flag
The children's hands cheer.
Young Romans were there, of the eagles of old,
Strong Charlemagne's sons, of the helmets of gold,
The heirs of the heroes of world-making wars
Passed outward that hour in the night march of stars.
All thought of the friends to their bosoms most true,
Of the hearts of the Old World that beat in the New,
Of the world-weary struggles of peoples oppressed,
Of the kingdom of God in the suns of the West.
The Cross of St. George
Passed them by on the main,
The dark German Eagles,
The Lions of Spain;
Off Trafalgar's waters
The last flag appeared,
But mine was the last flag
That the emigrants cheered.
That scene at Gibraltar in mind lingers yet,
That eve Andalusian what heart could forget?
And where'er I may roam through the nightfall of years
My heart will re-echo the emigrants' cheers.
Can the soldier forget the last roll of the drum ?
Or the wanderer the song of his mother at home?
Or the patriot his vision of duty sublime,
As seen on the towers of the summits of Time?
I still see the eagles
That swept o'er the main,
The leonine banners
Of England and Spain,
The African starlight,
The gray fortress crest,
And the emigrants cheering
Their Flag of the West.
No voice of the bugle, no war-rolling drum,
Disturbs the sweet peace of my roof-tree of home,
But the anthem of liberty gladdens the main,
And the chorus of hills wakes the patriot's strain.
O flag of my own land, Hope's bow in the air,
O'er my home let me lift thee, my altar of prayer!
Many flags have the people that grand deeds recall,
But my own Flag of Faith is the pride of them all.
The Red Cross of England
Waves free o'er the main,
The dark German Eagles,
The Lions of Spain,
But ever while stars
For all men shall appear,
Our flag of all peoples
The pilgrims will cheer.
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