1. Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again.
Th' eternal years of God are hers;
But Error, wounded, writhes in pain.
And dies among his worshipers.

2. Heed not the shaft by hatred cast,
The foul and hissing bolt of scorn;
For with the right shall dwell at last
The vict'ry of endurance born.

3. Yea, tho' thou lie upon the dust,
When all thy helpers flee in fear,
Die full of hope and manly trust,
Like those who fell for freedom dear.

4. Some other arm thy sword wield,
Some other hand the standard wave,
Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed
The blast of triumph o'er thy grave.