The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1898-11-26

SEtl- ~ the banner OIL the
Baptized in blood at Lexington, the nation
calls 1t best,
It droops not to a foreign foe, 1t owns no
kings behest;
It's stars reflect new glory underneath the
autumn sky,
It's welded stripes OF white and red wids
to the bree2es fly;
No more the crimson river roIls between
the Blue and Gray.
And all the people celebrate the lands
Thanksgiving day,
The harvest SONG still fingers where tho
golden waters run
Through far Dakota's acres to the seas Of
endless 1lln,
The cities TEEN with labor for the work.
mans eager hand,
Our granaries groan with richest store, no
hunger In the land:
The %cotter's little family on the rugged
mountain side
Takes up the song Of plenty till 1t echoes
far and wide,
And we send across the pillows az they
-ceaseless rise and fall
This message to the nations: 1--WE have
food enough for ALI"
God smiles upon the nation that has set q
people free.
We worship but at Freedoms shrine from
Sur&lQ8 sea TO sea,
The boy who drives the cattle home across
the mesa bare
Looks up with pride nor feels ashamed be-
side the rich mans heir:
Our navies rid the oceans with our starry
flag un-urld,
Our traders bear their cargoes to the har-
bors of the world;
Aye, back to US from lands as fair and dis
tant as Cathay
Come argosiss that help to crown this glad
Thanksgiving day.
Old Glory proudly waves to-day DER battle-
fields afar,
The foreign foe hath humbled been beneath
the clouds OF war;
Aye, every star that dots our flag upon the
land and main.
Recounts the story Of the men who crushed
the might Of Spain;
No longer ride her boosted fleets, no longer
fash their guns.
The seal of silence hath been placed on
them by Freedoms sons;
With victory on our banner fair we CRATE
full kneel and pray,
And thank the watchful Father for this
proud Thanksgiving day.
There's plenty In the southland where in
white the cotton blows.
THERE'S plenty in the northland 'neath
katahdln's crest of SHOWS,
ne edSt HAS ucdTu Tue temper song Ger
countless feles Of grain.
The golden corn has gathered been on
many a western plain;
The winter has no terrors for the land we
dearly love,
The skies that promise happy times are
blue and bright above;
Our nation in its splendor can take up tho
glad refrain:
20 Father, Thou hast blessed us. Let
Thanksgiving come again."
We've seen the years fall from His hand
like leaflets in the void,
The crown Hes set upon our land Is hsr-
vests crown of gold;
The anthems of Thanksgiving. rising high
twixt sea and sea,
Stir every heart that beats beneath the
banner of the free;
In the turmoil of the battle we we're born
to bless the world,
Our fathers on historic fields our match-
less flag unfurl'd;
With five and forty stars to light to greater
deeds the way.
We as a nation celebrate this glad Thanks.
giving day.
o bells that tell the story OF our country's
rise to fame,
Ring out the paeans OF glory meath the
flag. we love to name;
With plenty all around we can lift tho joy
full strain,
And the harvest song is echoed In the ma
TONS heart again;
Let the benediction sweeping Ger the land
from shore to shore
Shake the mountains with the chorus;
Praise the Lord forcvermore!
Praise our Father for His goodness, reach
Ing far from sea to sea,
He has blessed us. as a nation; He has mads
and kept US free!".
T. C. HARBAUGH.