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And of those awful hours that marked the bloody battle
day, In memory we'll still be seen a wearing- of the gray. |
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O, should we reach that glorious place where waits the
sparkling crown, For every one who for the right his soldier life lay down, God grant to us the privilege, upon that happy day, Of clasping hands with those who fell a wearing of the
gray. |
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THE SWORD OF ROBERT LEE. Words by Moina. Music by Armand.
Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,
Flashed the sword of Lee ! Far in the front of the deadly fight, High o'er the brave, in the cause of right It's stainless sheen, like a beacon light,
Led us to victory. |
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Out of its scabbard, when full long
It slumbered peacefully— Roused from its rest by the battle song, Shielding the feeble, smiting the strong, Guarding the right, and avenging the wrong—
Gleamed the sword of Lee! |
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