Ay, here beneath its folds are gathered all Who warred unscathed for blessings that it gave-- Still blessed its champion, though it but fall A shadow on his grave! II We greet you, Victors, as in vast array You gather from the scenes of strife and death-- From spectral fortress walls where curls away The cannon's latest breath. We greet you--from the crumbling battlements Where once again the old flag feels the breeze Stroke out its tattered stripes and smooth its rents With rippling ecstasies. From living tombs where every hope seemed lost-- With famine quarantined by bristling guns-- The prison pens--the guards--the "dead-line" crossed By--riddled skeletons! From furrowed plains, sown thick with bursting shells-- From mountain gorge, and toppling crags o'erhead-- From wards of pestilential hospitals, And trenches of the dead. III In fancy all are here. The night is o'er, And through dissolving mists the morning gleams; And clustered round their hearths we see once more The heroes of our dreams. Strong, tawny faces, some, and some are fair, And some are marked with age's latest prime, And, seer-like, browed and aureoled with hair As hoar as winter-time. The faces of fond lovers, glorified-- The faces of the husband and the wife-- The babe's face nestled at the mother's side, And smiling back at life; A bloom of happiness in every cheek-- A thrill of tingling joy in every vein-- In every soul a rapture they will seek In Heaven, and find again! IV 'Tis not a vision only--we who pay But the poor tribute of our praises here Are equal sharers in the guerdon they Purchased at price so dear. The angel, Peace, o'er all uplifts her hand, Waving the olive, and with heavenly eyes Shedding a light of love o'er sea and land As sunshine from the skies-- Her figure pedestalled on Freedom's soil-- Her sandals kissed with seas of golden grain-- Queen of a realm of joy-requited toil That glories in her reign. O blessed land of labor and reward! O gracious Ruler, let Thy reign endure; In pruning-hook and ploughshare beat the sword, And reap the harvest sure! SHADOW AND SHINE Storms of the winter, and deepening snows, When will you end? I said, For the soul within me was numb with woes, And my heart uncomforted. When will you cease, O dismal days? When will you set me free? For the frozen world and its desolate ways Are all unloved of me!