by F.With his hands by the blood of slain thousands made red,
And the signet of Hell on his brow,
The branded arch-traitor now sleeps with the dead,
By the arm of Jehovah laid low.
He has bartered his soul for the sceptre of State,
Which to him proved the thing of a day;
And the Union still lives for a destiny great,
And will stand till Earth passes away;
For the great God of Hosts watches over our land,
And protects it from every foe;
And He'll ever crush those, with omnipotent hand,
Who would Freedom's fair fabric o'erthrow.