Words for the Hour

Men of the North! it is no time
  To quit the battle-field;
When danger fronts your rear and van
  It is no time to yield.

No time to bend the battle’s crest
  Before the wily foe,
And, ostrich-like, to hide your heads
  From the impending blow.

The minions of a baffled wrong
  Are marshalling their clan,
Rise up! rise up, enchanted North!
  And strike for God and man.

This is no time for careless ease;
  No time for idle sleep;
Go light the fires in every camp,
  And solemn sentries keep.

The foe ye foiled upon the field
  Has only changed his base;
New dangers crowd around you
  And stare you in the face.

O Northern men! within your hands
  Is held no common trust;
Secure the victories won by blood
  When treason bit the dust.

’Tis yours to banish from the land
  Oppression’s iron rule;
And o’er the ruin’d auction-block
  Erect the common school.

To wipe from labor’s branded brow
  The curse that shamed the land;
And teach the Freedman how to wield
  The ballot in his hand.

This is the nation’s golden hour,
  Nerve every heart and hand,
To build on Justice, as a rock,
  The future of the land.

True to your trust, oh, never yield
  One citadel of right!
With Truth and Justice clasping hands
  Ye yet shall win the fight!