Chapter I

It was my lot of late to travel far Through all America's domain, A willing, grey-haired servitor Bearing the Fiery Cross of righteous war. And everywhere, on mountain, vale and plain, In crowded street and lonely cottage door, I saw the symbol of the bright blue star. Millions of stars! Rejoice, dear land, rejoice That God hath made thee great enough to give Beneath thy starry flag unfurled A gift to all the world,-- Thy living sons that Liberty might live.