THE REGIMENT RETURNED. 323 THE REGIMENT RETURNED. BY PARK BENJAMIN. HE fife blows shrill, the drum beats loud; THE I hear the tramp of many feet Come echoing up the city street, With cheers and welcomes from the crowd. It is the regiment returned That went away three months ago; Fearless they met the Southern foe, And with true patriot ardor burned. Their looks and dress are somewhat worn; And that is honorable dust Upon their caps and knapsacks borne. Their banner still is held on high, Though soiled with wind and rain and smoke, As bravely as when first it broke In light, like sunrise, on the sky. In the full front of battle shown, O'er many rough and weary miles, 324 THE REGIMENT RETURNED. Against its folds the shot were cast, And now, still marching where it waves, But, vowing to avenge their loss, Soon, where those comrades fought and fell, They'll meet once more, and conquer well Beneath the Union's starry cross. 'Tis right to welcome home with cheers For them we mourn; for these we raise VOICE OF THE NORTHERN WOMEN. 325 VOICE OF THE NORTHERN WOMEN. BY PHOEBE CARY. ROUSE, freemen, the foe has arisen, His hosts are abroad on the plain; And, under the stars of your banner, O, fathers, who sit with your children, O, brothers, we played with in childhood, Shall trample them under his feet. O, lovers, awake to your duty From visions that fancy has nursed; And we, whom your lives have made blessed, That you may be strong to do battle For Freedom, for God, and the Right. 326 THE LATEST WAR NEWS. We are daughters of men who were heroes; Shall have room for a place in our heart. Then quit you like men in the conflict, Η THE LATEST WAR NEWS. OH pale, pale face! Oh helpless hands! Yet turning ever towards the lands She shudders when they tell the tale, She sees no conquering flag unfurled, Perchance she 'll kiss no more! THE LATEST WAR NEWS. Ever there comes between her sight The midnight glory of his hair, She must not shriek, she must not moan, Be bound with viewless bands. Because her suffering life enfolds In death-strong grasp her heart she holds, Yester-eve, they say, a field was won. Her eyes asks tidings of the fight; But tell her of the dead alone In mercy tell her that his name 327 |