Chapter 7

We shall thank our God for graces That we've never known before; We shall look on manlier faces When our troubled days are o'er. We shall rise a better nation From the battle's grief and grime, And shall win our soul's salvation In this bitter trial time. And the old Flag waving o'er us In the dancing morning sun Will be daily singing for us Of a splendor new begun.

When the rifles cease to rattle And the cannon cease to roar, When is passed the smoke of battle And the death lists are no more, With a yet undreamed of beauty As a people we shall rise, And a love of right and duty Shall be gleaming in our eyes. As a country, tried by sorrow, With a heritage of worth, We shall stand in that to-morrow With the leaders of the earth.