Invocation

Come on, Master Robert Robert, throw yourself into the saddle

For the fifes are growing fretful and the drums begin to boom

Get a foot into the stirrup, then give your horse a chirrup

And we'll ride Stone Mountain 'til the crack of doom

Come on, Master Robert, your boys in gray are waiting;

We have bivouacked in this granite since the minnie struck us dumb;

But we'll rise in ancient glory to hear the splendid story

Of your valor and your greatness yet to come

Come on, Master Robert, the nation needs your presence

It needs you on this mountain where all its sons may gaze