Classic Poem

Who is this ye say is slain?
Whose voice answers not again?
Ellsworth, shall we call in vain
On thy name to-day?
No! from every vale and hill
Our response all hearts shall thrill,
" Ellsworth's fame is with us still,
Ne'er to pass away! "

Bring that rebel banner low,
Hoisted by a treacherous foe:
'T was for that they dealt the blow,
Laid him in the dust.
Raise aloft, that all may see
His loved flag of Liberty.
Forward, then, to victory,
Or perish if we must!

Hark to what Columbia saith:
" Mourn not for his early death,
With each patriot's dying breath
Strength renewed is given
To the cause of truth and right,
To the land for which they fight.
After darkness cometh light, —
Such the law of Heaven. "

So we name him not in vain,
Though he comes not back again!
For his country he was slain;
Ellsworth's blood shall rise
To our gracious Saviour — King:
'Tis a holy gift we bring;
Such a sacred offering
God will not despise.