2 OUR COUNTRY'S CALL. See, from a thousand coverts see Spring the armed foes that haunt her track; They rush to smite her down, and we Ho! sturdy as the oaks ye cleave, And moved as soon to fear and flight, His serried ranks shall reel before And ye who breast the mountain storm By grassy steep or highland lake, Come, for the land ye love, to form A bulwark that no foe can break. And ye, whose homes are by her grand As mighty in your march as they; OUR COUNTRY'S CALL. As terrible as when the rains Have swelled them over bank and bourne, With sudden floods to drown the plains And sweep along the woods uptorn. And ye who throng, beside the deep, On his long murmuring marge of sand, Few, few were they whose swords, of old, The grim resolve to guard it well. 3 TOLL! Roland, toll! In old St. Bavon's tower, At midnight hour, The great Bell Roland spoke! All souls that slept in Ghent awoke ! All flying to the city's wall! That Freedom stood in peril of a foe! And even timid hearts grew bold Whenever Roland tolled, And every hand a sword could hold! So acted men *The famous bell Roland, of Ghent, was an object of great affection to the people, because it rang to arm them when Liberty was in danger. THE GREAT BELL ROLAND. Like patriots thenThree hundred years ago! II. Toll! Roland, toll! Bell never yet was hung, If men be patriots still, True hearts will bound, Great souls will thrill! Then toll and strike the test Till loyal hearts shall stand confest, III. Toll! Roland, toll! Not now in old St. Bavon's tower Not now at midnight hour 5 Not now from River Scheldt to Zuyder Zee, But here, this side the sea! Toll here, in broad, bright day!— For not by night awaits A noble foe without the gates, But perjured friends within betray, 6 THE GREAT BELL ROLAND. And do the deed at noon! Toll! Roland, toll! Thy sound is not too soon! To Arms! Ring out the Leader's call! Till every hero's breast Shall swell beneath a soldier's crest! Till cottager from cottage wall Snatch pouch and powder-horn and gun ! Till swords from scabbards leap! Toll! Roland, toll! What tears can widows weep Less bitter than when brave men fall! Toll! Roland, toll! In shadowed hut and hall Shall lie the soldier's pall, [filled! And hearts shall break while graves are Amen! So God hath willed! And may His grace anoint us all! IV. Toll! Roland, toll! The Dragon on thy tower |