218 WHEN THE GREAT REBELLION'S OVER.

Balmy breathed as summer clover;
"Yes, my darling, home at last,
When the sad Rebellion 's over!"

Entered at the open door,

While the mother soothed her child,
One who neither spoke nor smiled,
Standing on the sunny floor.

Wistful eyes met mournful eyes,
Hope took flight, like airy plover,
Ah! poor heart, thou 'lt wait in vain
Till the great Rebellion's over!

Heart, poor

heart! too weak to save;

Vain your tears,

- your longings vain,

Summer winds and summer rain

Beat already on his grave!

From the flag upon his breast,

(Truer breast it ne'er shall cover!)
From its mouldering colors, wet
With his blood, shall spring beget
Lily, rose, and violet,

And wreath of purple clover;

With the flag upon his breast,
They have hid away your lover ;
Weep not, wail not! let him rest,
Having bravely stood the test,

A CHEER FOR THE BRAVE.

He shall rank among the blest,
When the great Rebellion's over!

219

A CHEER FOR THE BRAVE.

BY CAROLINE A. HOWARD.

LIFT up the starred banner, the pride of a

nation,

Whose bulwarks are hearts firm and true as tried

steel;

Bear the standard aloft with joyous elation,

The serpent is writhing 'neath Liberty's heel!

Blest ensign of Freedom, too long has thy glory Been dimmed by the blight of disunion and shame;

Too long has rebellion, black-hearted and gory,

Ensanguined our land and dishonored our name!

Up Freedom! new courage! the struggle is closing! Strike home for the right and forget not the brave, Who, fighting and dying, forever repose in

The heart of their country, the soldier's true grave.

Be patient, yet rest not, nor fear the dark surges; For our fathers of old were parted the seas;

220

OUR COUNTRY'S CALL.

Each wave of our progress the foeman submerges; Then our cause give to God, and our Flag to the breeze.

June, 1862.

MEN

OUR COUNTRY'S CALL.

BY JOHN PIERPONT.

EN who plough your granite peaks,
O'er whose head your Eagle shrieks,
of Freedom speaks,

And for aye

Hear your country's call!

Swear, each loyal mother's son,

Swear "Our Country shall be ONE!"
Seize your sword, or bring your gun,
Bayonet and ball!

For the land that bore you— Arm!
Shield the State you love from harm!
Catch, and round you spread, the alarm ;
Hear, and hold your breath!

Hark! the hostile horde is nigh!
See, the storm comes roaring by!
Hear and heed our battle-cry,

"VICTORY OR DEATH!"

OUR COUNTRY'S CALL.

Sturdy landsmen, hearty tars,

Can you see your Stripes and Stars
Flouted by the three broad bars,
And cold-blooded feel?

There the rebel banner floats!
Tyrants, vanquished by your votes,
Spring, like bloodhounds, at your throats:
Let them bite your steel!

With no traitor at their head,
By no braggart coward led,

By no hero caught a-bed,

While he dreamt of flight;

By no "Young Napoleons,"
Kept at bay by wooden guns,
Shall our brothers and our sons,
Be held back from fight!

Like a whirlwind in its course,
Shall again a rebel force,
Jackson's foot or Stuart's horse,
Pass our sleepy posts;
Roam, like Satan, " to and fro,”
And our Laggard let them go?
No! in thunder answer- "No!
By the Lord of Hosts!"

221

222

THE OLD SHIP OF STATE.

With the Lord of Hosts we fight,
For his Freedom, Law, and Right,
Strike for these, and his all-might

Shall with victory crown
Loyal brows, alive or dead;
Crush each crawling Copperhead,
And in bloody battle tread
This rebellion down!

Talk of "Peace," in hours like this?

'Tis Iscariot's traitor kiss,

'Tis the Old Serpent's latest hiss!
Foil his foul intrigue !

Plant heel his head upon !

your

Let him squirm! his race is run!
Now to keep your Country one,
Join our Union League!

THE OLD SHIP OF STATE.

BY DAVID BARKER, OF EXETER, ME.

O'ER the dark and gloomy horizon that bounds

Ο

her,

Through the storm and the night and the hell that surrounds her,