OUR COUNTRY IS CALLING.

23

Be our beloved country's shield,

Till the war has passed away.
Then take your gun and go, etc.

OUR COUNTRY IS CALLING.

BY F. H. Hedge, d. d.

[Wohl auf! Cameraden! aufs Pferd, aufs Pferd!]

OUR

UR country is calling! Go forth! go forth!
To danger and glory, ye gallants!

In danger your manhood must prove its worth,
There hearts are weighed in the balance;
And he who would win his life at last
Must throw it all on the battle's cast.

Our country is calling, our country that bleeds
With daggers which Treason has planted;
"Tis Honor that beckons where Loyalty leads,
We follow with spirits undaunted.

The soldier who fronts death face to face

Is foremost now of the patriot race.

Our country is calling! we come! we come!

For Freedom and Union we rally;

24

THE VOICE OF THE NORTH.

Our heart-beat echoes the beating drum,

Our thoughts with the trumpet tally;
Each bosom pants for the doomful day
When the rebels shall meet us in battle array.

Our country is calling with names that of old
Emblazoned America's story ;

May those of to-day, when its tale shall be told,
Blaze with them forever in glory!

Be our banner redeemed the reward of our scars, No scathe on its stripes and no cloud on its stars!

THE VOICE OF THE NORTH.

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

UP the hill-side, down the glen,

Rouse the sleeping citizen:
Summon out the might of men!

Like a lion growling low

Like a night-storm rising slow-
Like the tread of unseen foe

It is coming — it is nigh!
Stand your homes and altars by,
On your own free threshold die.

25

25

THE VOICE OF THE NORTH.

On the

Clang the bells in all your spires, gray hills of your sires Fling to heaven your signal-fires.

Oh! for God and duty stand,
Heart to heart and hand to hand,
Round the old graves of the land.

Perish party perish clan;
Strike together while you can,
Like the strong arm of one man.

Like the angels' voice sublime,
Heard above a world of crime,
Crying for the end of Time.

With one heart and with one mouth,
Let the North speak to the South;
Speak the word befitting both.

Camp-ward, the watchfires gleam
Beacon-like in the gloom;
Round them his comrades dream
Pictures of youth and home.
While in his heart the bright

Hope-fires shine everywherc,

Crouches th' assassin spy; Shrinks at the guardsman's tread,

Quails 'fore his gleaming eyes,

Creeps back with baffled hate,
Cursing his cowardice.

Naught can beguile his bold,

Unsleeping vigilance ; E'en in the fireflame, old

Visions unheeded dance.

Fearless of lurking spy,

Scornful of wassail-swell,