Classic Poem

This is the hour they then foretold--
When earth, inebriate with crime,
Laughed right to scorn, and guilt, grown bold,
Knelt worshiping at mammon's shrine.

This is the hour! Corruption's band
Is driven back; and periled right,
Rescued by the "fanatic" hand,
Spans our broad heaven of light.

Righteousness ne'er--awestruck or dumb--
Feared for an hour the tyrant's heel!
Injustice to the combat sprang;
God to the rescue--Liberty, peal!

Joy is in every belfry bell--
Joy for the captive! Sound it long!
Ye who have wept fourscore can tell
The holy meaning of their song.

'Tis freedom's birthday--blood-bought boon!
O war-rent flag! O soldier-shroud!
Thine be the glory--nor too soon
Is heard your "Cry aloud!"

O not too soon is rent the chain
And charter, trampling right in dust!
Till God is God no longer--ne'er again
Quench liberty that's just.

Lynn, Mass.