Classic Poem

In this dark hour of national dismay,
O God of liberty, thy power display!
Thine hand in safety led thine ancient band,
Through paths of danger, to their promised land.
Thine arm defended those who bravely bore
The rights of freemen to this western shore,
Who dared the whelming wave and tempest's shock,
To plant a freeman's foot on Plymouth Rock;
And when oppression from Old England came,
And brightly blazed anew the holy flame
Of liberty, each noble heart the shrine,
Thou ledst them on to victory, Power Divine!
God guided pens that wrote the nation's will;
God led the hosts who fought on Bunker's Hill:
So, Lord, now treason in our land is rife,
Appear for our deliverance, end the strife,
And let the “ides of March,” in sixty-one,
See Lincoln prove a second Washington,
Through thee our nation saving from a fall,
The wild waves quelling ere they whelm us all,
Till over our broad land, from shore to shore,
Blend Liberty and Union evermore.