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One drooping flag! Gladly we garland those
Heroes who led and bled

For our beloved land, to right her wrongs;
What, in the future, shall of us be said
If we forget, yea, scorn the long repose
Of those who sing her songs?

-CLINTON SCOLLARD.

UNITED STATES NATIONAL ANTHEM

God of the free; upon thy breath

Our flag is for the right unrolled,
As broad and brave as when its stars
First lit the hallowed time of old.

For duty still its folds shall fly;

For honor still its glories burn,
Where truth, religion, valor, guard
The patriot's sword and martyr's urn.

No tyrant's impious step is ours;

No lust of power on nations rolled;
Our flag-for friends, a starry sky,
For traitors, storm in every fold.

Oh, thus we'll keep our nation's life,
Nor fear the bolt by despots hurled;

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;

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And make its life a star of hope
For all the struggling of the earth.

Then shout beside thine oak, O North!
O South! wave answer with thy palm;
And in our Union's heritage

Together sing the nation's psalm.

-WILLIAM Ross WALLACE.

WHAT THE DRUMS SAY

Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands,
And of armed men the hum;

Lo! a nation's hosts have gathered
Round the quick alarming drum-

Saying, "Come,

Freemen, come!

Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum.

"Let me of my heart take counsel;
War is not of life the sum;
Who shall stay and reap the harvest
When the autumn days shall come?"
But the drum

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,
Should

my heart grow cold and numb?"
But the drum

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,
Till a trumpet-voice proclaiming,
Said, "My chosen people, come!"

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,
The while beneath her drooping lash
One starry tear drop hangs and trembles,
Though heaven alone records the tear,

And fame shall never know her story,
Her heart has shed a drop as dear
As e'er bedewed the field of glory!

The wife who girds her husband's sword,
'Mid little ones who weep and wonder,
And bravely speaks the cheering word,
What though her heart be rent asunder,
Doomed nightly in her dreams to hear
The bolts of death around him rattle,
Hath shed as sacred blood as e'er

Was poured upon the field of battle!

The mother who conceals her grief

While to her breast her son she presses,
Then breathes a few brave words and brief,
Kissing the patriot brow she blesses,

With no one but her secret God

To know the pain that weighs upon her,
Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod

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!

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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;

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