Go forth, thou relic of the Civil War!
No longer may you stand with foolish pride
Among a soldier's rusty souvenirs,
And boast that you fought on the winning side.
You now belong to all America;
She needs your help - against a ruthless foe.
What matters, if you lose identity
In that vast melting pot, where you must go.
'Tis a rebirth. In that refining fire
You take new form - from captive rust set free
To fight again. "The Weapon of the Hour."
On wings of steel - to speed the Victory.
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