Thus stood Lee forth before Virginia's lords
Faithful to his commission and his sword,
Doing the Will of God while seemingly
Lifting high hands against the Stars and Stripes.
Thus stood he forth reckoned among the spheres,
That in their courses fought against the South,
As of the White Battalions. Thus he stood
Unquestioning — this wondrous battle-chief,
This convenantal man of faith and courage,
Sworn to Virginia, erstwhile sworn to God,
And evermore as erstwhile sworn to God.
His was the secret past all mortal phrase.
Within the leashes of the Eternal Plan
He moved, the unconfounded. Who could know
How long through generations yet to come
Might Slavery have lasted, had this bolt,
Formed slowly in the ethical order of God,
Not burst upon the earth? Yet well Lee knew —
Since 'twas the loosening of this bolt of war —
Secession was the doom of Slavery,
And that to deal Secession mortal blow
Would kill the things that clung to it for life —
States-Rights and Slavery — swallowed up of death.
Thus would salvation come unto the lost
Turned self-deliverers, though they knew it not.
But Lee knew, and in his perceiving soul,
Seeing the strategies of Providence,
There rose a stronger courage and a hope
Gripping a faultless righteousness and power,
And all the consonant joy for North and South
Forevermore united. Come what might,
'Twas all the expression of the Will Divine.
Walking by faith he ever trod the ways
Magnifical upon God's shining mounts.
Come triumph or defeat, no power could touch
His great unconquerable soul; no fate
Could snatch from him his inner victory
Which, pillared amidst every failure, stood
Round his unfailing spirit. Thus he endured,
The Mighty Captain. Evermore endures,
As seeing Him who is invisible,
Each nature that has faith allegiant
To God and Duty. Though his armies fail,
And foes rush in o'er ruin and o'er waste,
He stands unruined and unwasted, king
In the high majesty of consecration.
And there at Petersburg behind his lines,
Midst sight of destiny and shafts of fate,
Midst strong compulsions, long his fastnesses,
Lee rose, beholding down the Northern skies
The White Battalions wheeling, lifted up
His spirit unto God's Imperials,
And turned untowards the open and the void,
Whirlwind and fire, and after that — the night.
Faithful to his commission and his sword,
Doing the Will of God while seemingly
Lifting high hands against the Stars and Stripes.
Thus stood he forth reckoned among the spheres,
That in their courses fought against the South,
As of the White Battalions. Thus he stood
Unquestioning — this wondrous battle-chief,
This convenantal man of faith and courage,
Sworn to Virginia, erstwhile sworn to God,
And evermore as erstwhile sworn to God.
His was the secret past all mortal phrase.
Within the leashes of the Eternal Plan
He moved, the unconfounded. Who could know
How long through generations yet to come
Might Slavery have lasted, had this bolt,
Formed slowly in the ethical order of God,
Not burst upon the earth? Yet well Lee knew —
Since 'twas the loosening of this bolt of war —
Secession was the doom of Slavery,
And that to deal Secession mortal blow
Would kill the things that clung to it for life —
States-Rights and Slavery — swallowed up of death.
Thus would salvation come unto the lost
Turned self-deliverers, though they knew it not.
But Lee knew, and in his perceiving soul,
Seeing the strategies of Providence,
There rose a stronger courage and a hope
Gripping a faultless righteousness and power,
And all the consonant joy for North and South
Forevermore united. Come what might,
'Twas all the expression of the Will Divine.
Walking by faith he ever trod the ways
Magnifical upon God's shining mounts.
Come triumph or defeat, no power could touch
His great unconquerable soul; no fate
Could snatch from him his inner victory
Which, pillared amidst every failure, stood
Round his unfailing spirit. Thus he endured,
The Mighty Captain. Evermore endures,
As seeing Him who is invisible,
Each nature that has faith allegiant
To God and Duty. Though his armies fail,
And foes rush in o'er ruin and o'er waste,
He stands unruined and unwasted, king
In the high majesty of consecration.
And there at Petersburg behind his lines,
Midst sight of destiny and shafts of fate,
Midst strong compulsions, long his fastnesses,
Lee rose, beholding down the Northern skies
The White Battalions wheeling, lifted up
His spirit unto God's Imperials,
And turned untowards the open and the void,
Whirlwind and fire, and after that — the night.