22. war Sonnet.oh, God of Nations! whose august decree,
Thundering through revolutions, fire, and smoke,
Raised from our sainted sires a foreign yoke,
And lifted up our land sublimely free;
God of the Nations! once again to Thee,
War-clad, we come, Thy vengeance to invoke,
To save Thy country, stricken with a stroke
More dire than any foreign foe can be,
Because more shameless in its infamy.
Oh, Thou! who through the patriots' heart of oak
The fetters of a far-off slavery broke,
Break now this home-forged, linked iniquity,
And all these traitors' hands and hearts uncloak--
Aye, though with blood yon “sacred soil” we soak.