Onward our life is now marching,
Banner-like high thoughts are flying,
Lifted to view.
One 'mid the foremost o'erarching
Leads where the pathway is lying,--
It came from you!
Runes of our past with their warning
Carved on its shaft,
Show us the spring you have quaffed,
Leading our land to the light of the morning.
FOR A CHARITY FAIR
(IN A COPY OF MINOR PIECES)
Some poor man in need
To bless and to feed,
I bring at its worth,
This day of my birth,
A book,--from my youth I must own.
But Who in His power
Gave bud and gave flower,
To bread can transform
In want's winter-storm
Each leaf that my Springtime has grown.
"Forward! forward!"
Rang our fathers' battle-cry.
"Forward! forward!"
Norsemen, be our watchword high!
All that fires the spirit and makes the heart's faith bright,
For that we forward go with might
And faithful fight.
"Forward! forward!"
Whoso loves a home that's free.
"Forward! forward!"
Freedom's course must ever be.
Though it shall be tested by doubt and by defeat,
