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An echo floats down from the mountains,
And finds on the prairies release;
An echo whose wonderful burden
Is "Victory! Liberty! Peace!"
The glorious trio, behold they are comming!
Their heralds are standing e'en now at the door:
[Are coming, are coming, are coming, are coming once more.]
Go tell the lone watchers of earth, they are coming
To bless us -- be with us -- forsake us no more.
[Are coming, are coming, are coming, are coming once more.]
"Glory to God in the highest!"
And the people shall answer "Amen!"
Columbia's Guardian Angels
Return to their empire again.
The banner hangs high in the heavens,
The beacon commences to burn;
The shout of the freedman goes upward,
To welcome their waited return.
The stronghold of Tyranny trembles --
Her minions retire in dismay,
Like spectors that fade in the darkness,
Before the arrival of day.
They bring us the place among nations,
Our ancestors gave us before;
The birthright that some would have barter'd,
They now in its fullness restore.
They bring us the blessing of blessings,
Which few were looking to see --
A firm and unchangeable Union,
In fact, as in theory, free!
Henry Clay Work
Read poems about / on: peace, people, god, angel
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Henry Clay Work
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