Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright, Flashed the sword of Lee! Far in the front of the deadly fight, High o'er the brave in the cause of Right, Its stainless sheen, like a beacon light, Led us to victory.
Out of its scabbard, where full long It slumbered peacefully, Roused from its rest by the battle's song, Shielding the feeble, smiting the strong, Guarding the right, avenging the wrong, Gleamed the sword of Lee.
Forth from its scabbard, high in air Beneath Virginia's sky-- And they who saw it gleaming there, And knew who bore it, knelt to swear That where that sword led they would dare To follow--and to die.
Out of its scabbard! Never hand Waved sword from stain as free; Nor purer sword led braver band, Nor braver bled for a brighter land, Nor brighter land had a cause so grand, Nor cause a chief like Lee![11]
Forth from its scabbard! How we prayed That sword might victor be; And when our triumph was delayed, And many a heart grew sore afraid, We still hoped on while gleamed the blade Of noble Robert Lee.
Forth from its scabbard all in vain Bright flashed the sword of Lee; 'Tis shrouded now in its sheath again, It sleeps the sleep of our noble slain, Defeated, yet without a stain, Proudly and peacefully.
Out of the shadows of sadness, Into the sunshine of gladness, Into the light of the blest; Out of a land very dreary, Out of the world very weary, Into the rapture of rest.
Out of to-day's sin and sorrow, Into a blissful to-morrow, Into a day without gloom; Out of a land filled with sighing, Land of the dead and the dying, Into a land without tomb.
Out of a life of commotion, Tempest-swept oft as the ocean, Dark with the wrecks drifting o'er, Into a land calm and quiet; Never a storm cometh nigh it, Never a wreck on its shore.
Out of a land in whose bowers Perish and fade all the flowers; Out of the land of decay, Into the Eden where fairest Of flowerets, and sweetest and rarest, Never shall wither away.
Out of the world of the wailing Thronged with the anguished and ailing; Out of the world of the sad, Into the world that rejoices-- World of bright visions and voices-- Into the world of the glad.
Out of a life ever mournful, Out of a land very lornful, Where in bleak exile we roam,[13] Into a joy-land above us, Where there's a Father to love us-- Into our home--"Sweet Home."