157. the rising of the North.Thank God! the death-like, strange repose,
The horrid paralytic rest
Is ended, and a Nation's breast,
Fired with the old-time spirit, glows!
A people long grown servile-necked
With bowing under Mammon's yoke,
Its bondage on a sudden broke,
To-day stands haughtily erect.
 It is as when the valley heaped
With dry bones, at the Prophet's word,
A wind miraculous had stirred;
Such Life from seeming Death has leaped!
No more supine, while traitorous foes
Trample her rights, her prowess mock,
But, roused for Battle's rudest shock,
When Sumter fell, the North arose!