Words for the Hour

Men of the North! it is no time To quit the battle-field; When danger fronts your rear and van It is no time to yield.

No time to bend the battle’s crest Before the wily foe, And, ostrich-like, to hide your heads From the impending blow.

The minions of a baffled wrong Are marshalling their clan, Rise up! rise up, enchanted North! And strike for God and man.

This is no time for careless ease; No time for idle sleep; Go light the fires in every camp, And solemn sentries keep.

The foe ye foiled upon the field Has only changed his base; New dangers crowd around you And stare you in the face.

O Northern men! within your hands Is held no common trust; Secure the victories won by blood When treason bit the dust.

’Tis yours to banish from the land Oppression’s iron rule; And o’er the ruin’d auction-block Erect the common school.

To wipe from labor’s branded brow The curse that shamed the land; And teach the Freedman how to wield The ballot in his hand.

This is the nation’s golden hour, Nerve every heart and hand, To build on Justice, as a rock, The future of the land.

True to your trust, oh, never yield One citadel of right! With Truth and Justice clasping hands Ye yet shall win the fight!