One drooping flag! Gladly we garland those For our beloved land, to right her wrongs; -CLINTON SCOLLARD. UNITED STATES NATIONAL ANTHEM God of the free; upon thy breath Our flag is for the right unrolled, For duty still its folds shall fly; For honor still its glories burn, No tyrant's impious step is ours; No lust of power on nations rolled; Oh, thus we'll keep our nation's life, The blood of all the world is here, And they who strike us strike the world! God of the free! our nation bless In its strong manhood as its birth; 837820 And make its life a star of hope Then shout beside thine oak, O North! Together sing the nation's psalm. -WILLIAM Ross WALLACE. WHAT THE DRUMS SAY Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands, Lo! a nation's hosts have gathered Saying, "Come, Freemen, come! Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum. "Let me of my heart take counsel; Echoed, "Come! Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemnsounding drum. "But when won the coming battle What of profit springs therefrom? What if conquest, subjugation, Even greater ills become?" But the drum Answered, "Come! You must do the sum and prove it," said the Yankeeanswering drum. "What if, 'mid the cannon's thunder, Whistling shot and bursting bomb, When my brothers fall around me, my heart grow cold and numb?" Answered, "Come! Better there in death united than in a life a recreant— come!" Thus they answered-hoping, fearing, Some in faith, and doubting some, Then the drum, Lo, was dumb; For the great heart of the nation, throbbing, answered, "Lord, we come!" -BRET HARte. PATRIOTISM OF AMERICAN WOMEN The maid who binds her warrior's sash With smile that well her pain dissembles, And fame shall never know her story, The wife who girds her husband's sword, Was poured upon the field of battle! The mother who conceals her grief While to her breast her son she presses, With no one but her secret God To know the pain that weighs upon her, Received on Freedom's field of honor! -THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. THE REGIMENT'S RETURN He is coming, he is coming, my true-love comes home today! All the city throngs to meet him as he lingers by the way. He is coming from the battle with his knapsack and his gun He, a hundred times my darling, for the dangers he hath run! Twice they said that he was dead, but I would not believe the lie; While my faithful heart kept loving him I knew he could not die. All in white will I array me, with a rosebud in my hair, And his ring upon my finger-he shall see it shining there! He will kiss me, he will kiss me with the kiss of long ago; He will fold his arms around me close, and I shall cry, I know. Oh the years that I have waited—rather lives they seemed to be For the dawning of the happy day that brings him back to me! But the worthy cause has triumphed. Oh, joy! the war is over! He is coming, he is coming, my gallant soldier lover! Men are shouting all around me, women weep and laugh for joy, Wives behold again their husbands, and the mother clasps her boy; All the city throbs with passion; 'tis a day of jubilee; But the happiness of thousands brings not happiness to me; I remember, I remember, when the soldiers went away, There was one among the noblest who has not returned today. Oh I loved him, how I loved him! and I never can forget That he kissed me as we parted for the kiss is burning yet! 'Tis his picture in my bosom, where his head will never lie; |