The Weekly Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, O. [Ohio]) 1861-1???, 1863-03-18
Chr G.astalian :fuunt.
FREMoNT,s BATTLE HYMN.
ny JAMES q. CLARK.

ny JAMES q. CLARK.
Oh Spirits of Washington. Warren and WAYNE
Oh shades of the heroes and patriots slain
Come down from your mountains Of emerald and
gold,
And smile on the banner yc cherished Of old.
Descend in your glorifed ranks to the strife,
Like iegions sent forth from the armies Of life
Let us feel your deep presence as waves feel the
breeze,
When the white fleets, like snow flakes are drank
by the seas.
As the red lightnings run on the black, jagged
Ere the thundcr-king speaks from his wind-woven
shroud,
So CLEANS the bright steel along valley and shore.
Ere the combat shall startlc the land with its roar
As the veil which conccals the clear starlight is
rivcn,
When clouds strike together by warning winds
driven,
So the blood of the race must be offered like rain
Ere the stars Of our country are ransomed again.
Proud sons of the soil where the palmetto grows,
Once patriots and brothers, now traitors and foes,
G have turned from the path which our fore
fathers trod,
And stolen from man the best gift of his God
le have trampled the tendrils of love in the
ground,
Ye have scoAed at the law which the Nazarene
found,
Till the great wheel of Justice seemed blocked
for a time,
And the eyes of humanity blinded with crime.
The hounds of oppression were bowling the knel
VI martyrs and prophets, at gibbet and cell,
While Mercy despaircd of tho blossoming years,
When her harp strings no mere should be rusted
with tears. ..
But God never ceases Ia strike for the right,
Aud the ring of his anvil came down through
the uirlt,
Tho the wind was asleep, and the nations seemed
dead,
And Truth into bondage by Error was led,
Will the banners of morn at your bidding be frled
When the day king arises to quicken the world?
Can We cool the fierce fires of his heat-throbbiug
breast,
Or turn him aside from his goal in the west2
All sons Of the plain where the orange-tree
blooms,
le may come to our pine covered mountains for
tombS
But the light We would smother was kindled by One
Who gave to The universe planet and sun.
Go, strangle the throat of Niagara's wrath,
Till he utters no sound on his torrent-cut path
TO, bind his green sinews Of rock wearing waves,
Till he begs at your feet like your own fettered
slaTes;
Go. cover his pulses with sods of the ground,
I'LL he hides from your sight like hare from
Then. swarm to our borders and silence the notes
That thunder of freedom from millions of throats.
Come on with your "chattles," all worn, from
the soil
Where men receive scourging in payment for toll
Come, robbers-comc, traitors, we welcome you
all,
As the leaves of the forest are welcomed by fall
The brthrght OF manhood awaits for your slaves,
But prisons and halters are waiting for knaves;
And the blades of our "mud-sills" " are longing
10 rust
With their blood who would bury our stars in
the dust,
They die unlamented by people and laws,
Whose lives hut shadows on Libcrty's cause
They slnmber unblest by fraternity's star,
have blocked up the track of lumanity's car.
Regarded, when dead, by the wise and the good,
As the shepherds regard TIE dead wolf in the
wood
And only minated when Heaven shall efface
rhe mem'ry of wrong from the souls of the race.
The streams may forget how they mingled our
gore,
And the myrtle entwine on their borders once
more
The song-birds of Peace may return to our glades,
And children join hands where their fathers joined
blades.
Columbia may rise from her trial of fire,
ore pure than she came from the hand Of her sire
5ut Freedom will lift the cold finger of scorn
When History tells where her Traitors were born.