THE wind is fierce and loud and high,
The angry tempest hurtles by;
With quivering keel and straining sail
The ship of State confronts the gale.
Rocks are ahead and peril near;
But still we face the storm, nor fear,
Saying this brave truth o’ er and o’ er:
“The nation’ s heart is sound at core.”
We knew it in those darker days
When all the kind, familiar ways
And all the tenderness of life
Seemed lost in bitterness and strife;
When, torn with shot and riddled through,
Lay in the dust our Red and Blue,
Dropped by the gallant hands that bore,
“The nation’ s heart is sound at core.”
We said it when the war-cloud rent,
And out of field and out of tent
The bronzèd soldiers, Blue and Gray,
Took each the peaceful homeward way;
When the foiled traitors sought to attain
By fraud what force had failed to gain,—
Heart-sick, we said the words once more:
“The nation’ s heart is sound at core.”
And always, as the worst seemed near,
And stout hearts failed for very fear,
Came a great throb the country through,—
The nation’ s heart still beating true!
Ah, mother-land and mother-breast,
We still will trust you and will rest;
Although waves howl and tempests lower,
Your heart, our heart, is sound at core.