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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Voice Of The Loyal North</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1861</div><div style="margin:10px 0">JANUARY THIRD</div><div style="margin:10px 0">WE sing 'Our Country's' song to-night<br>With saddened voice and eye;<br>Her banner droops in clouded light<br>Beneath the wintry sky.<br>We'll pledge her once in golden wine<br>Before her stars have set<br>Though dim one reddening orb may shine,<br>We have a Country yet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'T were vain to sigh o'er errors past,<br>The fault of sires or sons;<br>Our soldier heard the threatening blast,<br>And spiked his useless guns;<br>He saw the star-wreathed ensign fall,<br>By mad invaders torn;<br>But saw it from the bastioned wall<br>That laughed their rage to scorn!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What though their angry cry is flung<br>Across the howling wave,--<br>They smite the air with idle tongue<br>The gathering storm who brave;<br>Enough of speech! the trumpet rings;<br>Be silent, patient, calm,--<br>God help them if the tempest swings<br>The pine against the palm!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our toilsome years have made us tame;<br>Our strength has slept unfelt;<br>The furnace-fire is slow to flame<br>That bids our ploughshares melt;<br>'T is hard to lose the bread they win<br>In spite of Nature's frowns,--<br>To drop the iron threads we spin<br>That weave our web of towns,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To see the rusting turbines stand<br>Before the emptied flumes,<br>To fold the arms that flood the land<br>With rivers from their looms,--<br>But harder still for those who learn<br>The truth forgot so long;<br>When once their slumbering passions burn,<br>The peaceful are the strong!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Lord have mercy on the weak,<br>And calm their frenzied ire,<br>And save our brothers ere they shriek,<br>'We played with Northern fire!'<br>The eagle hold his mountain height,--<br>The tiger pace his den<br>Give all their country, each his right!<br>God keep us all! Amen!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472350" data-title="A Voice Of The Loyal North de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="1861

JANUARY THIRD

WE sing 'Our Country's' song to-night
With saddened voice and eye;
Her banner droops in clouded light
Beneath the wintry sky.
We'll pledge her once in golden wine
Before her stars have set
Though dim one reddening orb may shin..."></div>
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