COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN.

The wine-cup, the wine-cup bring hither,
And fill you it true to the brim;

May the wreaths they have won never
wither,

Nor the star of their glory grow dim! May the service united ne'er sever,

But they to their colors prove true!
The Army and Navy forever!

Three cheers for the red, white, and
blue !— CHO

Hail, America.

HAIL, son of peak and prairie,
Triumphant o'er thy foes! —

Shod with the sands of Cuba,

Crowned with the Klondike snows!

The breast that nursed thee, shrunk

with age,

Still yielded milk of power;

Past kingdoms prophesied thy birth

And groaned to see thy hour. Hark! Egypt moves her lips of stone: "For thee I labored long."

Listen! The isles of Homer:

"We named thee in our song."

I hear a mighty struggling

Like grave-clothes torn from death;

Millions of lips unmuffled

46

Pour unaccustomed breath:

Hail, foundling of the western seas,

Hail, harsh and sacred sod,

Where the strong plant of Freedom
Holds up its leaves to God!

HAIL, AMERICA.

"For thee our toil, our anguish,
The pathos of our years,
Our baths in bleeding battles,

Our lives of sweat and tears!"

Hark! like a climbing sun, the Voice Mounts upward, owns the sky,

And clarions from the zenith

In trumpet-tongued reply:

"Ye shall no longer wait me,
Nor call upon my name,
I come, O buried fathers,
The latest fruit of fame!
The Indies pay me tribute,
The Andes bring me toll,
I own no serfs but loyal hearts
That kiss my kind control.

"My hands are free from slaughter,
The sheath conceals the sword,
I trust the regiments of Heaven,
And navies of the Lord!

Peace is my guard and angel,

Her wings above me stir,

Mine arms I reach to all the world, Mine eyes I turn to her.

"Yet, ah! if honor's ensign
Be trampled in the dust,
With angry sorrow let me show
How strife may still be just;
I will tell History that she lies,
Even at her very door,
And buy a more enduring peace
At the red cost of war.

Trafalgar greets Manila,

All ages grow divine,

Distance is dead, the Past a dream,

And Marathon is mine! Wherever heroes die for truth,

Beneath whatever sun,

The years are lovers clasping hands,
And all the world is one!

"O buried sires, your hands are mould

That once were hot to slay,

Those eyes are filled with dust, that gorged

With sight of human prey.

Kings tremble on their purple thrones,

Crowns crumble, tyrants die,

While down untold Millenniums,

March Destiny and I!"

HAIL, AMERICA.

That tatter'd flag your father kiss'd,
Fling, boy, against the gale!
And join the cry that rends the sky:
Hail, home of freedom, hail!
Hail, son of peak and prairie !
Hail, lord of coast and sea!

Our prayers and song,

belong,

- our lives

Land of our love, to thee!

- Frederic Lawrence Knowles.