STARS IN MY COUNTRY'S SKY. 203

Your flag, the gamest of the game,

Sank proudly with you not in shame,
But in its ancient glory ;

The mem'ry of its parting gleam
Will never fade while poets dream;
The echo of your dying gun
Will last till man his race has run,
Then live in angel story.

STARS IN MY COUNTRY'S SKY.

BY L. H. SIGOURNEY.

ARE ye all there?

Are

Are ye all there,

Stars of my country's sky?

ye all there? Are ye all there,

In your shining homes on high?

"Count us! Count us," was their answer,

As they dazzled on my view,

In glorious perihelion,

Amid their field of blue.

I cannot count ye rightly ;

There's a cloud with sable rim; I cannot make your number out, For my eyes with tears are dim.

204 STARS IN MY COUNTRY'S SKY.

Oh! bright and blessed Angel,
On white wing floating by,

Help me to count and not to miss
One star in my country's sky!

Then the Angel touched mine eyelids,
And touched the frowning cloud;
And its sable rim departed,

And it fled with murky shroud.
There was no missing Pleiad,

'Mid all that sister race;

The Southern Cross gleamed radiant forth,
And the Pole star kept its place.

Then I knew it was the Angel
Who woke the hymning strain
That at our dear Redeemer's birth
Pealed out o'er Bethlehem's plain ;
And still its heavenly key-tone
My listening country held,
For all her constellated stars

The diapason swelled.
Hartford, Conn.

OLD FANEUIL HALL.

205

COME

OLD FANEUIL HALL.

BY EDWARD E. HALE.

HOME soldiers, join a Yankee song, And cheer us, as we march along, With Yankee voices, full and strong,

Join in chorus all;

Our Yankee notions here we bring,
Our Yankee chorus here we sing, -
So make the Dixie forest ring

With "OLD FANEUIL HALL!"

When first our Fathers made us free,
When Old King George first taxed the tea,
They swore they would not bend the knee,
But armed them one and all!

In days like those the chosen spot
To keep the hissing water hot,

To

pour

the tea-leaves in the pot,

Was OLD FANEUIL HALL!

So when, to steal our tea and toast,
At Sumter first the Rebel host
Prepared to march along the coast,
At Jeff. Davis's call

206

OLD FANEUIL HALL.

He stood on Sumter's tattered flag,
To cheer them with the game of brag;
He bade them fly his Rebel Rag

On OLD FANEUIL HALL!

But war's a game that two can play ;
They waked us up that very day,
And bade the Yankees come away

Down South at Abram's call!

And so I learned my facings right,
And so I packed my knapsack tight,
And then I spent the parting night
In OLD FANEUIL HALL!

And on that day which draws so nigh
When rebel ranks our steel shall try,
When sounds at last the closing cry

66 Charge bayonets — all!”
The Yankee shout from far and near,
Which broken ranks in flying hear,
Shall be a rousing Northern cheer
From OLD FANEUIL HALL!

OUR UNION AND OUR FLAG. 207

OUR UNION AND OUR FLAG.

BY RUTH N. CROMWELL.

MY flag, when first those starry folds

Which waved o'er Sumter's band
Received the traitor's murderous fire,
How flashed the tumult through the land.
No soul e'er panted for the hour

That lifts it from love's torturing rack
As panted, then, a nation's heart

To hurl the insult back.

If shame then hushed Columbia's breath
And bowed her beauteous form,
'Twas but the siroc's awful pause,.-
The lull before the storm.

Then men awoke, soul spoke to soul,

And hand grasped hand, for woe or weal; Then wavering hearts were turned to iron, And nerves were turned to steel.

Old feuds were not, old parties died;
From vale to mountain crag,

A nation's shout linked friend and foe,
Our Union and our flag;