Hymn Of The Moravian Nuns Of Bethlehem, At The Consecration Of Pulaski's Banner.

When the dying flame of day         Through the chancel shot its ray,         Far the glimmering tapers shed         Faint light on the cowled head;         And the censer burning swung,         Where, before the altar, hung         The blood-red banner, that with prayer         Had been consecrated there.     And the nuns' sweet hymn was heard the while,     Sung low in the dim, mysterious aisle.         "Take thy banner!    May it wave         Proudly o'er the good and brave;         When the battle's distant wail         Breaks the sabbath of our vale,         When the clarion's music thrills         To the hearts of these lone hills,         When the spear in conflicts shakes,         And the strong lance shivering breaks.         "Take thy banner! and, beneath         The battle-cloud's encircling wreath,         Guard it! - till our homes are free!         Guard it! - God will prosper thee!         In the dark and trying hour,         In the breaking forth of power,         In the rush of steeds and men,         His right hand will shield thee then.         "Take thy banner!    But, when night         Closes round the ghastly fight,         If the vanquished warrior bow,         Spare him! - By our holy vow,         By our prayers and many tears,         By the mercy that endears,         Spare him! - he our love hath shared!         Spare him! - as thou wouldst be spared!         "Take thy banner! and if e'er         Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier,         And the muffled drum should beat         To the tread of mournful feet,         Then this crimson flag shall be         Martial cloak and shroud for thee."     The warrior took that banner proud,     And it was his martial cloak and shroud!