|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
144 FREMONT'S BATTLE-HYMN.
As the red lightnings run on the black, jagged
cloud, Ere the thunder-king speaks from his wind-woven
shroud, So gleams the bright steel along valley and shore, Ere the combat shall startle the land with its roar. As the veil, which conceals the clear starlight, is
riven, When clouds strike together, by warring winds
driven, So the blood of the race must be offered like
rain, Ere the stars of our country are ransomed again.
Proud sons of the soil where the Palmetto grows,
Once patriots and brothers, now traitors and foes,
Ye have turned from the path which our forefathers trod,
And stolen from man the best gift of his God;
Ye have trampled the tendrils of love in the ground,
Ye have scoffed at the law which the Nazarene found,
Till the great wheel of Justice seemed blocked for a time,
And the eyes of humanity blinded with crime.