Our country's call.
by John Pierpont.
air--Scots wha Hae.
Men who plough your granite peaks,
O'er whose head the Eagle shrieks,
And for aye of Freedom speaks,
Hear your Country's call!
Swear, each loyal mother's son,
Swear “Our Country shall be one!”
Seize your sword, or bring your gun,
Bayonet and ball!
For the land that bore you — Arm!
Shield the State you love from harm!
Catch, and round you spread the alarm;
Hear, and hold your breath!
Hark!
the hostile horde is nigh I
See!
the storm comes roaring by!
Hear and heed our battle-cry:
“victory or death!”
Sturdy landsmen, hearty tars,
Can you see your Stripes and Stars
Flouted by the three broad bars,
And cold-blooded feel!
There the rebel banner floats!
Tyrants, vanquished by your votes,
Spring, like bloodhounds, at your throats;
Let them bite your steel!
With no traitor at their head;
By no braggart coward led,
By no hero caught abed,
While he dreams of flight;
By no “Young Napoleons,”
Kept at bay by wooden guns,
Shall our brothers and our sons,
Be held back from fight!
Like a whirlwind in its course,
Shall again a rebel force,
Jackson's foot or Stuart's horse,
Pass our sleepy posts;
Roam, like Satan, “to and fro,”
And our Laggard let them go?
No!
in thunder answer, “No!
By the Lord of Hosts!”
With the Lord of Hosts we fight,
For his Freedom, Law, and Right--
Strike for these, and his all-might
Shall with victory crown
Loyal brows, alive or dead,
Crush each crawling Copperhead,
And, in bloody battle, tread
This rebellion down!
Talk of “Peace” in hours like this!
'Tis Iscariot's traitor kiss!
'Tis the Old Serpent's latest hiss!
Foil his foul intrigue!
Plant your heel his head upon!
Let him squirm!
his race is run
Now to keep your Country one,
Join our Union League!
