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226 Runs swiftly up indicating war and defiance—and now the halyards have rais'd it,

Side of my banner broad and blue, side of my starry banner,

Discarding peace over all the sea and land.

Yet louder, higher, stronger, bard! yet farther, wider cleave!

No longer let our children deem us riches and peace alone,

We may be terror and carnage, and are so now,

Not now are we any one of these spacious and haughty States, (nor any five, nor ten,)

Nor market nor depot we, nor money-bank in the city,

But these and all, and the brown and spreading land, and the mines below, are ours,

And the shores of the sea are ours, and the rivers great and small,

And the fields they moisten, and the crops and the fruits are ours,

Bays and channels and ships sailing in and out are ours—while we over all,

Over the area spread below, the three or four millions of square miles, the capitals,

The forty millions of people,—O bard! in life and death supreme.,

We, even we, henceforth flaunt out masterful, high up above,

Not for the present alone, for a thousand years chanting through you,

This song to the soul of one poor little child.

O my father I like not the houses,

They will never to me be any thing, nor do I like money,

But to mount up there I would like, O father dear, that banner I like,

That pennant I would be and must be.

Child of mine you fill me with anguish,

To be that pennant would be too fearful,

Little you know what it is this day, and after this day, forever,

It is to gain nothing, but risk and defy every thing,

Forward to stand in front of wars—and O, such wars!—what have you to do with them?

With passions of demons, slaughter, premature death?

Demons and death then I sing,

Put in all, aye all will I, sword-shaped pennant for war,