48
Our Privilege.
O brothers by the further sea,
Think still our faith is warm;
The same bright flag above us waves
That swathed our baby form.
The same red blood that dyes your fields
Here throbs in patriot pride;
The blood that flowed when Lander fell,
And Baker's crimson tide.
And thus apart our hearts keep time
With every pulse ye feel,
And Mercy's ringing gold shall chime
With Valor's clashing steel.
