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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 137 (search)
By the praying of our common prayer; By the Bible on which our people swear! Peace, brothers, peace! Would you rend our country's breast in twain? It lies bare to the mortal blow, But the sword that could drink her holy vein Should be that of a foreign foe. Not of her children, cradled free, Not of her home-born; never be Such written page of History! Peace, brothers, peace! Would ye part the river which north and south Rolls grandly its career? Sounds not a tone from its mighty mouth Teaching us, far and near, That the North and the South, like it, must be One power, one home, one unity; One time and one eternity? Peace, brothers, peace! Brothers, beware; the storm is high-- Our ship of state strains heavily-- And her flag, whose spangles have lit the sky, Is fluttering — tattered and torn to be. God of our Father Washington, Our trust is in Thy arm alone; Count Thou her stars, keep every one! Peace, brothers, peace! London, January 4, 1861. --Nationwal Intelligencer, Feb. 6