Classic Poem

Hotter grows the fiery furnace,
Higher rise the flames,
Faster on the list of glory
Throng the immortal names:
What shall be the end at last,
When the war is over-past?

Tears like summer showers are falling,
Crushing summer blooms;
Human hearts are daily bleeding
In a thousand homes:
What shall be the glory gained,
What the glad result attained?

Freedom is the blessed burden
Of each weary year;
And the birth-throes of her glory
Are the groans we hear:
God will give his people rest
When with freedom all are blest!