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ANNIVERSARY POEM.
201
That prove the very gods are drawing nigh—Touched to the heart by every human groan. Cloud-veiled, they ride to end the doubtful fray; Around their feet the obedient lightnings play;Down mount and vale their heaven-forged bolts are thrown.
XXXVIII.Wild battle-blasts have withered half our land, And Freedom pants and pales in hellish toils; But ah, above the dragon's stiffening coils,The car of Victory rolls from strand to strand: Its wingéd coursers cleave the smoke of strife; O'er mortal dust blooms deathless spirit-life;Dread War rides on—but rides toward issues grand.
XXXIX.For God shall speak; and clash of cleaving sword, And cherub-harps and archangelic songs In larger sound shall merge unheard, while throngsOf stars, made fair by his Creative Word, Shall hark to the ineffable voiceful breath: "Columbia, rise—thou conqueror of Death!Savior of nations, counselor and lord!"
