Chapter 30

The World’s Hero.[Recited by F. Lizzie Peirce at the Annual Re-union of the Independent Literary Society, August 8th, 1885.]Go search the annals of the human race,Go hear the legends that the heathen tell,And learn that hist’ry, sacred or profane,Records no hero like the mighty Grant.Columbia proudly claims him as her ownAnd rears her monuments with love and pride;But millions scattered o’er the face of earth,And millions yet unborn, will share that claim:Who serves mankind is deemed the friend of man,And nations nationalize him in their hearts.Since that first famous Battle of the Kings,Of which we read in holy writ, no swordE’er leaped from scabbard in a juster warThan that which made our country free indeed,Which, until then, was only free in name.The bond of unity that WashingtonTo us bequeathed, Grant’s loyal arm maintained;Emancipation of the dusky raceBy Lincoln’s heaven-inspired pen, by Grant’sUnsullied sword was made complete!How wellHe proved the potency of equal rights,And how he dignified DemocracyThe monarchs of the world have told, thrice told,In homage, hospitality and love.No land is free where dwells a slave: to-dayIn all our land there dwells no slave, and weAre free, forever free!“Let us have peace.”Clasp hands across the ashes of the dead.No, no; Grant is not dead, he cannot die;The body is the worn-out coat of mail,That with his sword and shield the warrior castsAside when life’s campaign is o’er, and home,Eternal home, is reached.He is not deadWhose power still exists; and Grant will liveA life of immortality while yetOur starry banner floats for liberty,Which, thanks to God, will be forevermore.—Geo.M. Vickers.

[Recited by F. Lizzie Peirce at the Annual Re-union of the Independent Literary Society, August 8th, 1885.]

Go search the annals of the human race,Go hear the legends that the heathen tell,And learn that hist’ry, sacred or profane,Records no hero like the mighty Grant.Columbia proudly claims him as her ownAnd rears her monuments with love and pride;But millions scattered o’er the face of earth,And millions yet unborn, will share that claim:Who serves mankind is deemed the friend of man,And nations nationalize him in their hearts.Since that first famous Battle of the Kings,Of which we read in holy writ, no swordE’er leaped from scabbard in a juster warThan that which made our country free indeed,Which, until then, was only free in name.The bond of unity that WashingtonTo us bequeathed, Grant’s loyal arm maintained;Emancipation of the dusky raceBy Lincoln’s heaven-inspired pen, by Grant’sUnsullied sword was made complete!How wellHe proved the potency of equal rights,And how he dignified DemocracyThe monarchs of the world have told, thrice told,In homage, hospitality and love.No land is free where dwells a slave: to-dayIn all our land there dwells no slave, and weAre free, forever free!“Let us have peace.”Clasp hands across the ashes of the dead.No, no; Grant is not dead, he cannot die;The body is the worn-out coat of mail,That with his sword and shield the warrior castsAside when life’s campaign is o’er, and home,Eternal home, is reached.He is not deadWhose power still exists; and Grant will liveA life of immortality while yetOur starry banner floats for liberty,Which, thanks to God, will be forevermore.—Geo.M. Vickers.

Go search the annals of the human race,Go hear the legends that the heathen tell,And learn that hist’ry, sacred or profane,Records no hero like the mighty Grant.Columbia proudly claims him as her ownAnd rears her monuments with love and pride;But millions scattered o’er the face of earth,And millions yet unborn, will share that claim:Who serves mankind is deemed the friend of man,And nations nationalize him in their hearts.Since that first famous Battle of the Kings,Of which we read in holy writ, no swordE’er leaped from scabbard in a juster warThan that which made our country free indeed,Which, until then, was only free in name.The bond of unity that WashingtonTo us bequeathed, Grant’s loyal arm maintained;Emancipation of the dusky raceBy Lincoln’s heaven-inspired pen, by Grant’sUnsullied sword was made complete!How wellHe proved the potency of equal rights,And how he dignified DemocracyThe monarchs of the world have told, thrice told,In homage, hospitality and love.No land is free where dwells a slave: to-dayIn all our land there dwells no slave, and weAre free, forever free!“Let us have peace.”Clasp hands across the ashes of the dead.No, no; Grant is not dead, he cannot die;The body is the worn-out coat of mail,That with his sword and shield the warrior castsAside when life’s campaign is o’er, and home,Eternal home, is reached.He is not deadWhose power still exists; and Grant will liveA life of immortality while yetOur starry banner floats for liberty,Which, thanks to God, will be forevermore.—Geo.M. Vickers.

Go search the annals of the human race,

Go hear the legends that the heathen tell,

And learn that hist’ry, sacred or profane,

Records no hero like the mighty Grant.

Columbia proudly claims him as her own

And rears her monuments with love and pride;

But millions scattered o’er the face of earth,

And millions yet unborn, will share that claim:

Who serves mankind is deemed the friend of man,

And nations nationalize him in their hearts.

Since that first famous Battle of the Kings,

Of which we read in holy writ, no sword

E’er leaped from scabbard in a juster war

Than that which made our country free indeed,

Which, until then, was only free in name.

The bond of unity that Washington

To us bequeathed, Grant’s loyal arm maintained;

Emancipation of the dusky race

By Lincoln’s heaven-inspired pen, by Grant’s

Unsullied sword was made complete!

How well

He proved the potency of equal rights,

And how he dignified Democracy

The monarchs of the world have told, thrice told,

In homage, hospitality and love.

No land is free where dwells a slave: to-day

In all our land there dwells no slave, and we

Are free, forever free!

“Let us have peace.”

Clasp hands across the ashes of the dead.

No, no; Grant is not dead, he cannot die;

The body is the worn-out coat of mail,

That with his sword and shield the warrior casts

Aside when life’s campaign is o’er, and home,

Eternal home, is reached.

He is not dead

Whose power still exists; and Grant will live

A life of immortality while yet

Our starry banner floats for liberty,

Which, thanks to God, will be forevermore.

—Geo.M. Vickers.


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