Classic Poem

Children of the glorious dead,
Who for freedom fought and bled!
With her banner o'er you spread,
On to victory;
Not for stern ambition's prize,
Let your hopes or wishes rise;
Lo! your Leader, from the skies,
Bids you do, or die.

This is proud oppression's hour,
Storms assail you;—will you cow'r,
While beneath a despot's pow'r,
Groans the suff'ring slave?
While on ev'ry southern gale
Comes the helpless captive's tale—
Comes the voice of woman's wail,
And of man's despair?

Never!—by your country's shame,
Never!—by a Savior's claim
To the men of ev'ry name,
Whom he died to save;
Onward , then, ye fearless band!
Heart to heart, and hand to hand;
Yours shall be the patriot's stand,
Or the martyr's grave.