Till at last there came the second Mightier Revolution's blaze; Till at last there broke the tempest Like a cyclone on the sea, When the lightnings blazed and dazzled And the thunders were set free— And riding on that whirlwind came Majestic Robert Lee. Who—again I ask the question— Who may challenge in debate, With any show of truthfulness, Our former social state Which brought forth more than heroes In their lives supremely great? Not Peter the wild Crusader When bent upon his knee, Not Arthur and his belted knights In the poet's song could be More earnest than those Southern men Who followed Robert Lee. They thought that they were right, and this Was hammered into those Who held that crest all drenched in blood Where the ‘Bloody Angle’ rose. As for all else?
It passes by As the idle wind that blows.
III. Then stand up, oh my Countrymen! And unto God give thanks, On mountains, and on hillsides, And by sloping river banks— Thank God that you were worthy Of the grand Confed