They'll keep with you the trails of death
Till foemen's guns are dumb;
Their blood shall stain your lilied-sod—
"La Fayette, they have come!"
Till foemen's guns are dumb;
Their blood shall stain your lilied-sod—
"La Fayette, they have come!"
THE CALL TO PRAYER
(By direction of the rector, Dr. W. D. Buckner, the bell of Calvary Church is rung every day at 12 o'clock as a call to prayer for our soldiers.)
THE city teems with life; the sun,
A golden globe swings high
Where breaks the noon, and in the streets
Is jar of traffic passing by.
Then suddenly above the throng
A bell rings deep and clear,
A drifting wave of melody
That sweeps now far, now near.
A golden globe swings high
Where breaks the noon, and in the streets
Is jar of traffic passing by.
Then suddenly above the throng
A bell rings deep and clear,
A drifting wave of melody
That sweeps now far, now near.
"Lift up your hearts! Lift up your hearts!"
(The spoken words seem there),
"To Him who guards our battle front;
Lift up your hearts in prayer.
Pray hard that o'er our men who fight
On Freedom's blood-stained field
Today the Lord of Hosts may hold
The shelter of His shield."
(The spoken words seem there),
"To Him who guards our battle front;
Lift up your hearts in prayer.
Pray hard that o'er our men who fight
On Freedom's blood-stained field
Today the Lord of Hosts may hold
The shelter of His shield."
And on the crowded thoroughfares
Men bow their heads a space,
And every woman, at her task,
Lifts up a reverent face.
Men bow their heads a space,
And every woman, at her task,
Lifts up a reverent face.
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