Classic Poem

Hail, our country's natal morn,
Hail, our spreading kindred-born!
Hail, thou banner, not yet torn,
Waving o'er the free!
While, this day, in festal throng,
Millions swell the patriot song,
Shall not we thy notes prolong,
Hallow'd Jubilee?

Who would sever Freedom's shrine;
Who would draw th' invidious line;
Though by birth one spot be mine,
Dear is all the rest:
Dear to me the South's fair land,
Dear the central mountain-band,
Dear New England's rocky strand,
Dear the prairied West.

By our altars, pure and free,
By our Law's deep-rooted tree,
By the past's dread memory,
By our Washington;
By our common parent tongue,
By our hopes, bright, buoyant, young,
By the tie of country strong,
We will still be ONE .

Fathers! have ye bled in vain?
Ages! must ye droop again?
Maker! shall we rashly stain
Blessings sent by Thee?
No! receive one solemn vow,
While before thy throne we bow,
Ever to maintain, as now,
Union, Liberty!