To what new fates, my country, far And unforeseen of foe or friend,Beneath what unexpected star, Compelled to what unchosen end,
Across the sea that knows no beach The Admiral of Nations guidesThy blind obedient keels to reach The harbor where thy future rides!
The guns that spoke at Lexington Knew not that God was planning thenThe trumpet word of Jefferson To bugle forth the rights of men.
To them that wept and cursed Bull Run, What was it but despair and shame?Who saw behind the cloud the sun? Who knew that God was in the flame?
Had not defeat upon defeat, Disaster on disaster come,The slave's emancipated feet Had never marched behind the drum.
There is a Hand that bends our deeds To mightier issues than we planned,Each son that triumphs, each that bleeds, My country, serves Its dark command.
I do not know beneath what sky Nor on what seas shall be thy fate;I only know it shall be high, I only know it shall be great.
July, 1898
