“What shall we do for our Sister in the day when she shall be spoken of?
If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver.”
Song of Solomon.
Maker of Heaven and Earth,
Thou, who hast given birth
To moving millions of pre-destined spheres,
Thou, whose resistless might
Resolves the Wrong to Right
Missing no moment of the measured years—
Behold, we come to Thee!
We lift our swords, unsheath’d, towards Thy throne—
Look down on us, and see
Our Sister-Nation, ruined and undone!
Martyred for nobleness, for truth and trust;
Help us, O God, to raise her from the dust!
Be Thou our witness, Lord!
We swear with one accord
Swift retribution on her treacherous foe!
Her bitter wrong is ours
And heaven’s full-armèd powers
Shall hurl her murderer to his overthrow!
Upon her broken wall
A silver palace of sweet peace shall rise
At that high Festival
When Victory’s signal flashes through the skies—
But—until then!—welcome the fiercest fray!
We fight for Freedom! God, give us “The Day”!