Battle Hymn.

Almighty Power! Who through the past
    Our Nation's course has safely led;
Behold again the sky o'ercast,
    Again is heard the martial tread!
        Our stay in each contingency,
        Our Father's God, we turn to thee!

For lo! The bugle note of war
    Is wafted from a southern strand!
O Lord of Battles! we implore
    The guidance of Thy mighty hand,
        While as of yore, the hero draws
        His sword in Freedom's sacred cause!

And when at last the oaken wreath
    Shall crown afresh the victor's brow;
And Peace the conquering sword resheath,
    Be with us then, as well as now!
        Our stay in each contingency,
        In peace or war, we turn to Thee!

Alfred Castner King

Alfred Castner King was an American poet. He is recognized for his significant contributions to American poetry. Despite battling with blindness, his disability did not deter him from crafting poetry that captivated many readers. King often wrote about nature and personal experiences, reflecting a deep appreciation for the world around him and the nuances of human emotion.

Alfred Castner King

Life's Mystery

Alfred Castner King, Simple Poetry

Nature's Lullaby. - A Mountain Nocturne

Alfred Castner King, Simple Poetry

Shall Our Memories Live When the Sod Rolls Above Us?

Alfred Castner King, Simple Poetry

They Cannot See the Wreaths We Place.

Alfred Castner King, Simple Poetry

English

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Hymn

In The Time Of War And Tumults

O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands
    Despair and victory give;
In whom, though tyrants tread their lands,
    The souls of nations live;

Thou wilt not turn Thy face away
    From those who work Thy will,
But send Thy peace on hearts that pray,
    And guard Thy people still.

Remember not the days of shame,
    The hands with rapine dyed,
The wavering will, the baser aim,
    The brute material pride:

Remember, Lord, the years of faith,
    The spirits humbly brave,
The strength that died defying death,
    The love that loved the slave:

The race that strove to rule Thine earth
    With equal laws unbought: .
Who bore for Truth the pangs of birth,
    And brake the bonds of Though...

Henry John Newbolt

The Nations Peril.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
Where wealth accumulates and men decay.
--Goldsmith.


I fear the palace of the rich,
    I fear the hovel of the poor;
Though fortified by moat and ditch,
    The castle strong could not endure;
Nor can the squalid hovel be
    A source of strength, and those who cause
This widening discrepancy
    Infringe on God's eternal laws.

The heritage of man, the earth,
    Was framed for homes, not vast estates;
A lowering scale of human worth
    Each generation demonstrates,
Which feels the landlord's iron hand,
    And hopeless, plod with effort brave;
Who love no home can love no land;
    These own no home, until the grave.

The nation's strongest safeguards lie
In free...

Alfred Castner King

Memorial Day

"Dulce et decorum est"



The bugle echoes shrill and sweet,
    But not of war it sings to-day.
The road is rhythmic with the feet
    Of men-at-arms who come to pray.

The roses blossom white and red
    On tombs where weary soldiers lie;
Flags wave above the honored dead
    And martial music cleaves the sky.

Above their wreath-strewn graves we kneel,
    They kept the faith and fought the fight.
Through flying lead and crimson steel
    They plunged for Freedom and the Right.

May we, their grateful children, learn
    Their strength, who lie beneath this sod,
Who went through fire and death to earn
    At last the accolade of God.

In shining rank on rank arrayed
    They march, the legions of the Lord;
H...

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

The Vigil

England! where the sacred flame
    Burns before the inmost shrine,
Where the lips that love thy name
    Consecrate their hopes and thine,
Where the banners of thy dead
Weave their shadows overhead,
Watch beside thine arms to-night,
Pray that God defend the Right.

Think that when to-morrow comes
    War shall claim command of all,
Thou must hear the roll of drums,
    Thou must hear the trumpet's call.
Now, before they silence ruth,
Commune with the voice of truth;
England! on thy knees to-night
Pray that God defend the Right.

Hast thou counted up the cost,
    What to foeman, what to friend?
Glory sought is Honour lost,
    How should this be knighthood's end?
Know'st thou what is Hatred's meed?
What the surest gain of gr...

Henry John Newbolt

Battle Song.

Clear sounds the call on high:
"To arms and victory!"
Brave hearts that win or die,
        Dying, may win;
Proudly the banners wave,
What though the goal's the grave?
Death cannot harm the brave, -
        Through death they win.

Softly the evening hush
Stilling strife's maddened rush
Cools the fierce battle flush, -
        See the day die;
A thousand faces white
Mirror the cold moonlight
And glassy eyes are bright
        With Victory.

Sophie M. (Almon) Hensley

See The Field Of Battle Gleams.

See, the field of battle gleams
Yonward past the tented streams,
There the foe is camping;
By the thirst-assuaging rill,
From the copse behind the hill
Hear his war-steeds champing.

Northern Knights and Southern Sons,
Onward to the gleaming guns!
Now's the hour of battle!
Though his files be ten to one,
Seek the foe from sun to sun,
Where his muskets rattle.

O'er the walls with slaughter wet,
O'er the ball-scarred parapet,
Daring man and missile,
Charge to meet his best or worst,
Where his shrieking bombshells burst
And his bullets whistle.

Roll in waves of living blue,
Pierce the columned centre through,
Fill the world with wonder;
Rush, as with a lion's will,
Where his lightnings flash to kill
And his cann...

A. H. Laidlaw