O' ER all the clamorous voices of the South
Lee heard Virginia calling to her sons.
Her call was as a mother's in distress,
A cry of faith unto her faithful children.
The Old Dominion's hills and vales were tongued
With fear articulate. Forth from famed spots —
Cradles of ancient and illustrious sires —
Seemed ever rising wraiths of patriots.
Soil threatened by invaders summoned him,
Stratford and Shirley and loved Arlington.
Homes of his neighbors mingled with their plaints.
He saw on pallid and familiar cheeks
Appealing tears. Eyes of entreaty turned
To him with fierce new light from olden love.
Hands of beseeching, prayer-wise shaped, reached out
And touched the hem of his High-Priestly robe.

Midst the exalted City of the Land,
Under the shadows of the Capitol,
He heard the increasing tread of gathering troops,
Ranks upon ranks of blue-hued regiments
Beneath Old Glory, for the invasion set
Of Southern soil to crush Secession's dream.
He heard likewise the Nation's regnant voice
Desiring him, her soldier-champion,
All honored as her first of battle-chiefs,
And fitted for her Army's generalship,
To lift his powerful sword in her defense,
And as her Mighty Captain lead her hosts.

No mortal ever fought a harder fight
Upon the mystic field of conscience. Where
Waved Duty's plumes? — for Duty would he serve.
If only he might see through fire and cloud
Her form commanding and inviolate!
Who cares for frowning steeps if Duty calls?
Who minds the darkling deeps if Duty guides?
Duty, if thou be mistress of man's fate,
Then fate turns providence with skies aglow.