Though many and bright are the stars that appear, In that Flag by our country unfurled; And the stripes that are swelling in majesty there, Like a rainbow adorning the world: Their lights are unsullied as those in the sky, By a deed that our Fathers have done; And they're leagued in as true and as holy a tie, In their motto of "Many in One."
From the hour when those patriots fearlessly flung, That banner of starlight abroad; Ever true to themselves, to that motto they clung, As they clung to the promise of God; By the bayonet traced at the midnight of war, On the fields where our glory was won; Oh! perish the heart or the hand that would mar, Our motto of "Many in One."
'Mid the smoke of the contest - the cannon's deep roar, How oft it hath gathered renown! While those stars were reflected in rivers of gore, When the cross and the lion went down; And though few where [sic] their lights in the gloom of that hour, Yet the hearts that were striking below, Had God for their bulwark and truth for their power, And they stopped not to number the foe.
From where our green mountain tops blend with the sky, And the giant St. Lawrence is rolled, To the waves where the balmy Hesperides lie, Like the dream of some prophet of old; They conquer'd - and dying bequeath'd t to our care, - Not this boundless dominion alone - But that Banner, whose lovliness [sic] hallows the air, And their motto of "Many in One."
We are "Many in One," while there glitters a star, In the blue of the heavens above; And tyrants shall quail 'mid their dungeons afar, When they gaze on that motto of love. It shall gleam o'er the sea, 'mid the bolts of the storm, Over tempest, and battle, and wreck; And flame where our guns with their thunder grow warm, 'Neath the blood on the slippery deck.
The oppress'd of the earth to that standard shall fly, Wherever its folds shall be spread; And the exile shall feel 'tis his own native sky, When its stars shall float o'er his head. And those stars shall increase till the fulness of time, Its millions of cycles has [sic] run - Till the world shall have welcomed its mission sublime, And the nations of earth shall be one.
Though the old Alleghany may tower to heaven, And the Father of Waters divide, The links of our destiny cannot be riven, While the truth of these worlds shall abide. Then oh! let them glow on each helmet and brand, Though our blood, like our rivers shall run; Divide as we may in our own native land, To the rest of the world we are one.
Then up with our flag, let it stream on the air, Though our fathers are cold in their graves; They had hands that could strike, they had souls that could dare, And their sons were not born to be slaves. Up, up with that banner, where'er it may call. Our millions shall rally around; A nation of freemen that moment shall fall, When its stars shall be trail'd on the ground.
Louis Bonsal, corner of Baltimore and Frederick Sts.
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