We thought that the day of our conflict was passed,
That the day of our triumph had come;
We thought that the ship of the Union, at last,
Had swept out from the breakers among.
We heard the boom, boom of the rock-fretted surf,
As it struck on the dangerous shore,
While we sailed, as we thought, from the peril behind
Out into the glory before.
We were out on the tide, at its uttermost flood,
And a world stood to see if we failed;
While above all the human, the great eye of God
Looked down on the right, as she sailed.
High up at the mast-head our flag was afloat,
All riven and torn by the blast;
But its motto of "Freedom and Manhood to Man,"
Flashed out on the world as it passed.
All this was yesterday--vic'try and song;
Our foes bending suppliant knee;
And the race whose dark faces looked God-ward so long,
Standing up where all manhood could see,--
All this was but yesterday! What of to-day?
"The clouds return after the rain;"
Boom, boom! to our ears comes the sound of the surf,
And we drift to the breakers again!
"Right about with the ship," cries Freedom on watch;
"Away!" from the rocks and the sand.
"Down with the helm!" but the call's disobeyed--
On that helm lies a traitorous hand!
The pilot is false to the words written out
Upon our sacred banner in blood;
He is false to the living, and false to the dead!
False to justice, and honor, and God!
Tho' we're out on the tide, at its uttermost flood--
Rocks are near us--then what shall we do?
Our pilot's great soul in those breakers went down,
The man in his place must be true!
