THE BATTLE AUTUMN.
37
She knows the seed lies safe below
The fires that blast and burn;
For all the tears of blood we sow
She waits the rich return.
The fires that blast and burn;
For all the tears of blood we sow
She waits the rich return.
She sees with clearer eye than ours
The good of suffering born,—
The hearts that blossom like her flowers,
And ripen like her corn.
The good of suffering born,—
The hearts that blossom like her flowers,
And ripen like her corn.
O, give to us, in times like these,
The vision of her eyes;
And make her fields and fruited trees
Our golden prophecies!
The vision of her eyes;
And make her fields and fruited trees
Our golden prophecies!
O, give to us her finer car!
Above this stormy din,
We too would hear the bells of cheer
Ring peace and freedom in!
Above this stormy din,
We too would hear the bells of cheer
Ring peace and freedom in!
