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A Douglas Lay.


IN other days, with fiery hand,
The Troubadours of song,
O'er the lyre's wild throbbing bosom
Poured heroic strains along.
They tell us how the knights of old,
Arms flashing in the sun,
Fought for the Holy Sepulchre,
On the field of Askalon.

How the Stuart fought at Flodden,
How the Douglas rode away
With Harry Percy's pennon
From the English border fray.
How the proud Iberian giants
Round their orange banner rally,
Sweeping down the slopes of Pyrenees
To die at Roncesvalles!


But hero of heroes is the man
Who, in the world's hot strife,
Climbs the Pisgah-top of Fame
To the Promised Land of Life:
Hero of heroes is the man
Who guides a nation's star,
Men follow him as followed knights
The white plume of Navarre.

Such is the proud heroic soul,
Majestic, true, and great,
That erst in Illinoian wilds
Arose to guide the State.
Young manly strength, and hoary age,
From city, vale, and glen,
Loyal to mind, their homage pay
To one of the kings of men.

Such is the great heroic one,
Statesman and Patriot true,
Who worships Right, and hates the Wrong,
And fights in soul for you.
For, nobler than the knights of old,
He leads in freedom's van,
And fights a prouder, grander fight
For universal man!