OH, WHAT IF THE PROSPECT BE CLOUDED
American Patriotic Song.

Oh, what if the prospect be clouded,
And what if the sunlight be fled,
The bright sun himself may be shrouded,
And the bright crown be torn from his head;
But he yields never long to the rigour
Of the tempest taut beats on his form;
And he comes forth, anon, full of vigour,
More glorious because of the storm.

From the sun let the soul take its moral,
Nor shrink ‘neath the battle of life;
Near the cypress grows ever the laurel,
And we pluck as we please, from the strife.
Though the foe presses fierce with his legions,
And ye stoop for the hour to his will,
Keep but firm in the turbulent regions,
And the triumph ensues to you still.