Peaceful Victory
Not the sword-blade be our weapon, no, the Word, the Truth, the Right!
For the cheerful, joyous victor, ever wins the noblest fight!
Look at Spring-time, Freedom's champion, learn of him how victory's won,
When he, with the tyrant Winter, has the mighty strife begun!
Winter is a grim old despot, he's a flinty obscurant,
For, with gloomy joy, he mantles in his long, long nights the land;
Winter is an arch oppressor; in his icy fetters bound,
Life's fresh fountains pine for freedom, underneath the stiffened ground.
See, young Spring, the merry Rebel, coming down with stealthy tramp,
Captures now the lazy grey-beard with his army, all in camp!
Sunbeams are his sword-blades; lances, green and bannered, crowd the ground!
How they bristle, how they glisten, spears and sword-blades, far around!
For his trumpeter and drummer—they are finch and nightingale,
Larks his Marseillaise are piping, that aloft, loud-warbling, sail;
And his bombs are flower-budgeons, and his bullets morning-dew!
See the bomb-shells and the bullets, field and meadow flying through!
To the hueless fields, that scarcely yet the tricolor can bear,
Bold he shows the motley rainbow, bids them all its colors wear!
Everywhere in brilliant blossoms by his master-touch arrayed,
See, the land, o'er hill and valley, shows young Liberty's cockade!
Lo, now! villages and cities has the rebel set on fire!
Ay, the golden conflagration blazes brighter, broader, higher!
While, o'er all, his fluttering banner of ethereal blue floats free,
And a rosy cloud, the scutcheon, bears the blazon: Liberty!
Ha! Huzza! old Winter's routed! ay, with all his vassal-band,
With his frosts and nights and fetters, he is routed from the land!
And young Spring upon his footsteps marches in his glittering files
With triumphal songs and garlands, nodding flowers and sunny smiles!
And the groves and vales and mountains he in sparkling green has dressed:
‘You shall all be free and equal! you shall all alike be blest!’
May such peaceful, joyous triumph dawn, my Austria! on thee;
Like the fairest day of spring-time be thy morn of liberty!
For the cheerful, joyous victor, ever wins the noblest fight!
Look at Spring-time, Freedom's champion, learn of him how victory's won,
When he, with the tyrant Winter, has the mighty strife begun!
Winter is a grim old despot, he's a flinty obscurant,
For, with gloomy joy, he mantles in his long, long nights the land;
Winter is an arch oppressor; in his icy fetters bound,
Life's fresh fountains pine for freedom, underneath the stiffened ground.
See, young Spring, the merry Rebel, coming down with stealthy tramp,
Captures now the lazy grey-beard with his army, all in camp!
Sunbeams are his sword-blades; lances, green and bannered, crowd the ground!
How they bristle, how they glisten, spears and sword-blades, far around!
For his trumpeter and drummer—they are finch and nightingale,
Larks his Marseillaise are piping, that aloft, loud-warbling, sail;
And his bombs are flower-budgeons, and his bullets morning-dew!
See the bomb-shells and the bullets, field and meadow flying through!
To the hueless fields, that scarcely yet the tricolor can bear,
Bold he shows the motley rainbow, bids them all its colors wear!
Everywhere in brilliant blossoms by his master-touch arrayed,
See, the land, o'er hill and valley, shows young Liberty's cockade!
Lo, now! villages and cities has the rebel set on fire!
Ay, the golden conflagration blazes brighter, broader, higher!
While, o'er all, his fluttering banner of ethereal blue floats free,
And a rosy cloud, the scutcheon, bears the blazon: Liberty!
Ha! Huzza! old Winter's routed! ay, with all his vassal-band,
With his frosts and nights and fetters, he is routed from the land!
And young Spring upon his footsteps marches in his glittering files
With triumphal songs and garlands, nodding flowers and sunny smiles!
And the groves and vales and mountains he in sparkling green has dressed:
‘You shall all be free and equal! you shall all alike be blest!’
May such peaceful, joyous triumph dawn, my Austria! on thee;
Like the fairest day of spring-time be thy morn of liberty!
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