One like the Son of Man was by my side;
The Everlasting arms were round me thrown
Of my dear Lord who for our freedom died.

I don't regret, that though of British birth,
I have been true to the cause unto death;
'Tis not alone the Union, or the North,
It is the people's cause o'er all the earth.

And it shall prosper, and this slaughter pen
Shall be a monument of Southern chivalry
Before the world;--thus proving to all men
Slave power begets and sanctions cruelty.

From here went up for years the bondman's cry;
In the same glaring sun and rotting dew,
The white war-prisoners' cry of agony
To the great God of Battles rises too.

And He, who was by suffering perfected,
Watches the nation's life, the captive's pain;
And from the strife, beside her martyred dead,
With shield blood-cleansed from slavery's broad stain,

Columbia shall arise renewed, and wear
Her coronet of stars, and round her fold
Her robe of stripes, by righteousness made fair,
Which still exalts the nations as of old.

But I shall rest upon the other side,