We sing of the hero of battle,

We cherish and worship his name;

Of the hero of old, and the hero of gold,

Of him who has honor and fame.

The hero of love's tender passion,

Who basks in its mystical ray,

As we journey along, but never a song

For the hero we meet every day.

The one who can face, aye, so bravely

His losses, rebuffs, and defeat;

Whose heart will not break though the world may forsake,—

From the enemy will not retreat.

Who never will murmur at fate, when

It seems an unmerciful foe,

But struggles along with a heart true and strong,

Though his last golden castle is shattered

And sown to the wind long ago,

Each one that he meets with a warm smile he greets,—

His burden we never may know.

But hark! sweetest melodies mingle

With the din of earth's tumult and strife—

Heaven's joyous bells ring and archangels sing

For the hero of every-day life.