Words for the Hour

2 0 00

Words for the Hour

Men of the North! it is no time

To quit the battle-field;

When danger fronts your rear and van

It is no time to yield.

No time to bend the battle’s crest

Before the wily foe,

And, ostrich-like, to hide your heads

From the impending blow.

The minions of a baffled wrong

Are marshalling their clan,

Rise up! rise up, enchanted North!

And strike for God and man.

This is no time for careless ease;

No time for idle sleep;

Go light the fires in every camp,

And solemn sentries keep.

The foe ye foiled upon the field

Has only changed his base;

New dangers crowd around you

And stare you in the face.

O Northern men! within your hands

Is held no common trust;

Secure the victories won by blood

When treason bit the dust.

’Tis yours to banish from the land

Oppression’s iron rule;

And o’er the ruin’d auction-block

Erect the common school.

To wipe from labor’s branded brow

The curse that shamed the land;

And teach the Freedman how to wield

The ballot in his hand.

This is the nation’s golden hour,

Nerve every heart and hand,

To build on Justice, as a rock,

The future of the land.

True to your trust, oh, never yield

One citadel of right!

With Truth and Justice clasping hands

Ye yet shall win the fight!