_Was_ the nation dull and sodden,
Buried in material things?
’Twas the chrysalis, awaiting
The sure stirring of its wings!
For when rang the thrilling war-cry
Over all the startled land,
And the fiery cross of battle,
Flaming, sped from hand to hand,
Then how fared it, O my brothers?
Were men false or craven then?
Did they falter?
Did they palter?
Did they question why or when?
Oh, the story shall be told
Until earth itself is old,
How, from mountain and from glen,
More than thrice ten thousand men
Heard the challenge of the foe,
Heard the nation’s cry of woe,
Heard the summoning to arms,
And the battle’s loud alarms!
In tumultuous surprise,
Lo, their answer rent the skies;
And its quick and strong heart-thrills
Rocked the everlasting hills!
Forth from blossoming fields they sped
To the fields with carnage red!
Left the plowshare standing still;
Left the bench, the forge, the mill;
Left the quiet walks of trade
And the quarry’s marble shade;
Left the pulpit and the court,
Careless ease and idle sport;
Left the student’s cloistered halls
In the old, gray college walls;
Left young love-dreams, dear and sweet,
War’s stern front, unblenched, to meet!
Oh, the strange and sad amaze
Of those unforgotten days,
When the boys whom we had guided,
Nursed and loved, caressed and chided,
Suddenly, as in a night,
Sprang to manhood’s proudest height;
And with calmly smiling lips,
As who life’s rarest goblet sips,
Dauntless, with unhurried breath,
Marched to danger and to death!