’Mid the smoke of the contest, the cannon’s deep roar. How oft it hath gather’d renown; While those stars were reflected in rivers of gore, When the cross and the lion went down. And though few were their lights in the gloom of that hour, Yet the hearts that were striking below, Had God for their bulwark, and truth for their power, And they stopp’d not to number the foe. We are many in one where there glitters a star In the blue of the heavens above, And tyrants shall quail ’mid their dungeons afar, When they gaze on our motto of love. It shall gleam o’er the sea ’mid the bolts of the storm, O’er the tempest, and battle, and wreck, And flame where our guns with their thunder grow warm, ’Neath the blood on the slippery deck. Then up with our flag, let it stream on the air, Though our fathers are cold in their graves; They had hands that could strike, they had souls that could dare, And their sons were not born to be slaves. Up, up with our banner where’er it may call, Our millions shall rally around, A nation of freemen that moment shall fall, When its stars shall be trail’d on the ground. A Good Time Coming. 69 There is a good time coming, boys, A good time coming; There’s a good time coming, boys, Wait a little longer; We may not live to see the day, But earth shall glisten in the ray Of the good time coming; Cannon-balls may aid the truth, But thought’s a weapon stronger; We’ll win our battles by its aid, Wait a little longer. There’s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming, There’s a good time coming, boys. Wait a little longer. There’s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming; There’s a good time coming, boys, Wait a little longer; The pen shall supersede the sword, And right, not might, shall be the lord, In the good time comidg; Worth, not birth, shall rule mankind, And be acknowledged stronger, The proper impulse has been given, Wait a little longer. There’s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming, There’s a good time coming, boys, Wait a little longer. The Hills of New England. 70