m 
 
 Author 
 
 Trtle 
 
 Imprint. 
 
 le — 47372-2 aPO 
 
LOYAL PUBLICATION 'SOCIETY, 
 
 863 BROADWAY. 
 
 JVo, 49. 
 
 SOLDIBES' AND SAILOES' 
 
 PATRIOTIC SONGS. 
 
 NEAV YORK, MAY, 1864. 
 
 NEW YOKK: 
 Published by the Loyal Publication Society. 
 
 1864. 
 
 3 ol -<uX 
 
SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS' 
 
 JO " 
 
 PATRIOTIC SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 THE TWELFTH OF APRIL, A.D. 1861. 
 
 BY EDMUND C. STEDMAN. 
 
 Came the morning of that day, 
 When the God, to whom we pray, 
 Gave the soul of Henry Clay 
 
 To the land ; 
 How we loved him — living, dying ! 
 But his birthday banners flying, 
 Saw U3 asldng and replying, 
 
 Hand to hand. 
 
 For we knew that far away. 
 Round the fort iu Charleston bay. 
 Hung the dark impending fray, 
 
 Soon to fall ; 
 And that Sumter's brave defender 
 Had the summons to surrender 
 Seventy loyal hearts and tender — 
 
 That was all. 
 
 And we knew the April sun 
 lit the length of many a gun — 
 Hosts of batteries to the oue 
 
 Island crag; 
 Ouns and mortars grimly frowning, 
 Johnson, Moultrie, Pinckney, crowning. 
 And ten thousand men disowning 
 
 The old flag. 
 
 Oh ! the fury of the fight 
 
 Even then was at its height ! 
 
 Yet no breath, from noon till night. 
 
 Reached us here ; 
 We had almost ceased to wonder, 
 And the day had faded under. 
 When — the echo of the thunder 
 
 Filled each ear ! 
 
 Then our hearts more fiercely beat, 
 As we crowded on the street, 
 Hot to gather and repeat 
 
 All the tale ; 
 All the doubtful chances turning. 
 Till our souls with shame were burning, , 
 As if twice our bitter yearning 
 
 Could avail 1 
 
 Who had fired the earliest gun ? 
 Was the fort by traitors won ? 
 Wa.s there succor ? What was done 
 
 Who could know ? 
 And once more our thoughts would wiander 
 To the gallant, lone commander, 
 On his battered ramparts, grander 
 
 Than the foe. 
 
 Not too long the brave shall wait : 
 On their own heads be their fate. 
 Who against the hallowed State 
 
 Dare l>egin ; 
 Flag defied, and compact riven ! 
 In the record of high Heaven, 
 How shall Southern men be shriven 
 
 For the sin ? 
 
 OUH COUNTRY'S CALL. 
 
 BT WILLIAM CCLLEN BRYANT. 
 
 Lay down the axe, fling by the spade ; 
 
 Leave in its track the toiling plough ; 
 The rifle and the bayonet-blade 
 
 For arms like yours were fitter now: 
 And let the hands that ply the pen 
 
 Quit the light task, and learn to wield 
 The horseman's crooked brand, and rein 
 
 The charger on the battle-fi«ld. 
 
 Our country calls : away ! aT^ny ! 
 
 To where the blood-stream blots the green. 
 Strike to defend the gentlest sway 
 
 That Time in all his course has seen. 
 See, from a thousand coverts — see 
 
 Spring the armed foes that haunt her track : 
 They rush to smite her down, and we 
 
 llust beat the banded traitors back. 
 
 Ho ! sturdy as the oa'.is ye cleave. 
 And moved as soon to fear and flight, 
 
 Men of the glade and forest ! leave 
 Your woodcraft for the field of fight. 
 
 The arms that wield the axe must pour 
 An iron tempest on the foe ; 
 
 * Selected by permission from the " Lyrics of lyoyalty." and " Songs of the Soldiers," edited by Frank Moore. 
 
SOLI>IERS' AND SAILORS' 
 
 His serried ranks shall reel before 
 The arm that lays the patither low. 
 
 And ye who breast the mountain storm 
 
 By grassy stoep or highland lake, 
 Come, tor the land ye love, to form 
 
 A bulwark that no foe can break. 
 Stand, like your own gray cliffs that mock 
 
 The whirlwind; stand in her defence : 
 The blast as soon shall move the rock 
 
 As rushing squadrons bear ye thence. 
 
 And ye, whose homes are by her grand 
 
 Swift rivers, rising far avv.ay, 
 Come from the depth of her green land 
 
 As mighty in your march as they; 
 As terrible as when the rains 
 
 Have swelled them over bank and borne. 
 With sudden floods to drown the plains 
 
 And sweep along the woods uptorn. 
 
 And ye who throng, .beside the deep, 
 
 Her ports and hamlets of the strand, 
 In number like the waves that leap 
 
 On his long murmuring marge of sand, 
 Come, like that deep, when, o'er his brim 
 
 He rises all bis floods to pour, 
 And flings the proudest barks that swim, 
 
 A helpless wreck, against his shore. 
 
 Pew, few were they whose swords, of old, 
 
 Won the fair land in which we dwell ; 
 But we arc many, we who hold 
 
 The grim re^^olve to gtiard it well. 
 Strike for that broad and goodly land. 
 
 Blow" after blow, till men shall see 
 That Might and Right move hand in hand 
 
 And glorious must their triumph be. • 
 
 IT IS GREAT FOR OUR COUNTRY TO DIE. 
 
 BY JAMES G. PEaCITAL. 
 
 Oh I it is great for our country to die, where 
 ranks are contending ; 
 Bright is the wreath of our fame ; glory 
 awaits us for aye — 
 Glory that never is dim, shining on with light 
 never, ending — 
 Glory that' never shall fade, never, oh ! never, 
 away ! 
 
 Oh ! it is sweet for our country to die ! IIow 
 softly reposes 
 Warrior youth on his bier, wet by tiic icars 
 of his love, 
 Wet by a mother's warm tears; they crown him 
 with garlands of roaes, 
 Weep, and then joyously turn bright where 
 he triumphs above. 
 
 Not to the shades shall the youth descend who 
 for country hath perished ; 
 Hebe awaits him in heaven, welcomes him 
 there with her smile ; 
 Tiicre, at the banquet divine, the patriot-spirit 
 is cherished ; 
 God loves the young who ascend pure from 
 the funeral pile. 
 
 Not to Elysian fields, by the still, oblivious 
 river ; 
 Not to the isles of the blest, over tlie iii\\ic, 
 rolling sea ; 
 But on Olympian heights shall dwell tlwj devot- 
 ed for ever ; 
 There shall assemble the good, there the wise, 
 valiant, and free. 
 
 Oh ! then how great for our country to die — in 
 the front rank to perinh, 
 Firm, with our breast to the foe, Vicitory's 
 shout in our ear ! 
 Long they our statues shall crown, in song."? our 
 memory cherish ; 
 We shall look forth from our heaven, pleesi^l 
 the sweet mu.sic to bear. 
 
 THROUGH BALTIMORE. 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE PKNUSTI-VAKIA X'OLUNTEEHM. 
 
 BY BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 I. 
 
 'TwAS Friday morn, the train crew near 
 
 The city and the shore: 
 Far through the sunshine, soft and clear 
 We saw the dear old flag appear, 
 And in our hearts arose a cheer 
 
 For Baltimore 
 
 Across the broad Patapsco's wave, 
 
 Old Fort McHenry bore 
 Th" starry banner of the brave, 
 As wlien our fathei-s went to save, 
 Or in the trenches find a grave, 
 
 At Baltimore. 
 
 Before us, pillared in t]ie sky, 
 
 We saw the statue soar 
 Of Washington, serene and high — 
 Could traitors view that form, nor fly ? 
 Could patriots see, nor gladly die 
 
 For Baltimore ? 
 
 ■ city of our country's song, 
 
 By that swift aid we bore ... 
 When sorely pi-essed, receive flie ferong, 
 Who go to shield our flng from wron^, 
 And give us welcome, warm and strong, 
 
 in; Baltimore I " 
 
 We had no arms ; a.s friends we came, 
 
 As brothere evermore, 
 To rally round one sacred narr-.e, 
 The charter of our power and fame : . 
 We never dreamed of guilt and shaine' 
 
 In Bliltiniore. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The coward mob upon nB fell : o-fJ »9\ J'm 
 
 McHenry's flag they tore: > .:'■ 
 
 Surprised, borne backwai-d by the Rwell^ 
 Beat down with mad, inhiimaa yell. 
 Before us yawned a traitorous hell 
 
 Jn Baltimore I 
 
PATl'JOTIG SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 -Ivlfifo ,I;i)H O.i' VII. 
 
 Tlie Btreeta our soldier-fathers trod 
 
 Blushed with their children's gore; 
 Yv'e saw the craven rulers nod, 
 And dip in blood the civic rod — 
 Bhall auch thhigs be, righteous God ! 
 In Baltimore 
 
 No, never! By that outrage black, 
 
 A solemn oath we swore, 
 To bring the Keystone's thousands back. 
 Strike down the dastards who attack, 
 And leave a red and fiery track 
 
 Through Baltimore ! 
 
 Bow down, in haste, thy guilty head ! • 
 
 God's wrath is swift and sore: 
 The sky with gathering bolts is red — 
 Cleanse from thy skirts tlie slaughter shed, 
 Or make thyself an ashen bed — • 
 
 Baltimore ! 
 
 NOT YET. 
 
 BY WILLIAM CULLBN BRYANT. 
 
 Country, marvel of the earth ! 
 
 realm to sudden greatness grown ! 
 The age that gloried in thy birth. 
 
 Shall it behold thee overthrown ? 
 Kvall traitors lay that greatness low? 
 No, Land of Hope and Blessing, No ! 
 
 And we who wear thy glorious name, 
 Shall we, like cravens, stand apart, 
 
 When those whom thou hast trusted aim 
 The doath-blow at thy generous heart ? 
 
 S'orth goes the battle-cry, and lo ! 
 
 Ho8t8 rise in harness, shouting. No ! 
 
 And they who founded, in our land. 
 The power that rules from sea to sea, 
 
 Eled they in vain, or vainly planned 
 To leave their country great and free ? 
 
 Their sleeping ashes, from below. 
 
 Send up the thrilling murmur. No ! 
 
 Knit they the gentle ties which long 
 ThcBG sister States were proud to wear. 
 
 And forged the kindly links so strong 
 For idle hands in sport to tear — 
 
 For scornful hands .aside to throw ? 
 
 No, by our fathers' memory, No ! 
 
 Our humming marts, our iron ways. 
 
 Our wind-tossed woods on mountain crest. 
 
 The hoarse Atlantic, with ^is bays. 
 The cakn, broad Ocean of the West, 
 
 And Mississippi's torrent flow, 
 
 And loud Niagara, answer. No ! 
 
 Not yet the hour is nigh, when they 
 Who deep in Eld's dim twilight sit, 
 
 Earth's ancient kings, shall rise and say, 
 " Proud country, welcome to the pit ! 
 
 So soon art thou, like us, brought low ? " 
 
 No, sullen groups of- shadows, No I 
 
 For now, behold the arm that gave 
 
 The victory in our fatliers' day. 
 Strong, as of old, to guard and save- 
 That mighty arm which none can stay- 
 On clouds above and fields below. 
 Writes, in men's sight, the answer, No! 
 
 THE VOLUNTEER'S W^FE TO HER 
 HUSBAND. 
 
 Don't stop a moment to think, John, 
 
 Your country calls — then go ; 
 Don't think of me or the children, John, 
 
 Fll care for them, you know. 
 Leave the corn upon the stalks, John, 
 
 Potatoes on the hill, 
 And the pumpkins on the vines, John — 
 
 Fll gather them with a will. 
 But take your gun and go, John, 
 
 Take your gun and go, 
 For Buth can drive the oxen, John, 
 
 And I can use the hoe. 
 
 Fve heard my grandsire tell, John, 
 
 (He fought at Bunker Hill,) 
 How he counted all his life and wealth 
 
 His country's offering still. 
 Shall we shame the brave old blood, John, 
 
 That flowed on Monmouth Plain 1 
 No ! take your gun and go, John, 
 
 If you ne'er return again. 
 Then take your gun and go, etc. 
 
 • Our army's short •of blankets, John, 
 
 Then take this heavy pair ; 
 I spun and wove them when a girl. 
 
 And worked them with great care. 
 There's a rose in every corner, John, 
 
 And there's my name, you see ; 
 On the cold ground they'll warmer iieel 
 
 That they were made by me. 
 Then take your gun and go, etc. 
 
 And if it be God's will, John, 
 
 You ne'er come back again, 
 I'll do my best for the children, John, 
 
 In sorrow, want, and pain. 
 In v.'inter nights I'll teach them all 
 
 That I have Icai'ned at school. 
 To love the country, keep the laws, 
 
 Obey the Saviour's rule. 
 Then take your gun and go, etc. 
 
 And in the village church, John, 
 
 And at our humble board. 
 We'll pray that God will keep you, John, 
 
 And heavenly aid afford ; 
 And all who love their country's cause 
 
 Will love and bless you too, 
 And nights and mornings they will pray 
 
 For Freedom and for you. 
 Then take your gun and go, etc. 
 
 And now good-by to you, John — 
 
 1 cannot say farewell; 
 We'll hope and pray for the best, John; 
 
 God's goodness none can telL 
 
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 
 
 .» 
 
 Be His great arm aTonnd you, John, 
 To guard you night and day; 
 
 Be our beloved country's shield, 
 Till the war has passed away. . 
 
 Then take your guu aud go, etc 
 
 • ONLY NINE MILES TO THE JUNCTION." 
 
 WKITTKN KV H. MILLARD, 
 OOMPASy A, SKVEKTV-FHUjT HEGIJ1ENT, N. Y. S. M. 
 
 Tu-SE — Tlu, other Side of Jordan. 
 
 fsiE troop^f of Rhode Island wet^ posted along 
 
 Ou the road i'rom Annapolis Station, 
 As the Seventy-first Regiment, one thousand 
 strong, 
 Went on in defence of the nation. 
 We'd been marching all day iu the sun's scorch- 
 ing ray. 
 With two biscuits each as a ration, 
 When we a?ked Gov. Sprague to show us the 
 way, 
 And " How many miles to the Junction ?" 
 Ckcrus — How many miles, how many miles. 
 How many miles to the Junction ? 
 When we asked Gov. Sprague to show 
 us the Avay, 
 And " How many miles to the Junc- 
 tion?" 
 
 The Rhode Island boyd cheered us on out of 
 sight, 
 After giving the following injun(^tion: 
 ** Just keep .up your courage — you'll get there 
 to-night. 
 For 'tis only nine miles to the Juuetion." 
 
 They gave us hot coflfee, a grasp of the hand, 
 
 Which cheered and refreshed our exhaustion. 
 We reached in six hours the long-promised 
 land. 
 For 'twas " only nine mile.s to the Junction." 
 Only nine miles, etc. 
 
 And now as we meet them on Washington's 
 streets. 
 They always do hail us with unction. 
 And still tlie old cry some one surely repeats, 
 " 'Twas only nine miles to the Junction 1" 
 Three cheers for the warm-hearted Rhode Island 
 boys, 
 M.iy each one be true to his function, 
 And whene'er we meet, let us each other greet. 
 With "only nine miles from the Junction." 
 Only nine miles, etc. 
 
 Nine cheers for the flag under which we will 
 fight. 
 If the traitors should dare to assail it ; 
 One cheer for each mile we made on that niglit, 
 Wlien 'twas " only nine miles to the Junc- 
 tion." 
 With hearts thus united — our breasts to the 
 foe — 
 Once again with delight we will hail it ; 
 If duty should call us, still onward we'll go, 
 If even " nine miles to the Junction." 
 Only nine miles, etc. 
 
 NORTHMEN, COME OLTl 
 
 DEOIfiATKU TU TUli MiSSACHL'SHTTS lIlXilMUNTa 
 BY CHAIILES GOPFREV LELAND. 
 
 (Air — Burecheii, heraut I) ■ 
 
 1 'j :':: : ' " 
 
 Northmen, come out ! \ ^ , >. 
 Forth unto battle with storm and ahout! 
 Freedom calls you once agniii, 
 To'Hag and fort and tented plain ; 
 Then eome with drum and ti unip and .srtugl 
 And raise the war-cry wild aTid strong: 
 
 Nbrtlinien,cohie out! 
 
 NorfhmCTi, corhe bnf!' 
 The foe Ls waiting round about,. | .^ ,("i| v' 
 With pnixhan, mortar, and pt^tard," 
 To tender us their Beau-regard ; 
 With shot and shrapnel, giupe and sliell. 
 We'll give them back the fire of hell : 
 
 Northmen, come out ! 
 
 Northmen, come out ! 
 Give the pirates a roaring rout ; 
 Out in your strength and let Ihtni know 
 How Working Men to Work can go. 
 Out in your might and let them feel 
 How Mudsills strike when edged witli steel : 
 
 Northmen, come out ! 
 
 Northmen, come out ! 
 Come like your grandsires stern and stout ; 
 Though Cotton be of kingly stock, 
 Yet royal heads may reach the block ; 
 The Puritan taught it once in pain, 
 His sons shall teach it once again ; 
 
 Northmen, come out! 
 
 Northmen, come out ! 
 Forth into battle with storm and .shout ! 
 He who lives with victory's blest, 
 He who dies gains peaceful rest. 
 Living or dying, let us be 
 Still vowed to God and Liberty ! 
 
 Northmen, come out ! 
 
 PRO PATRIA. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE SECOND NEW-HAMI-SHTnS REOIHEKI. 
 BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. 
 
 The grand old earth shakes at the tread of the 
 
 Norsemen, 
 
 Who meet, as of old, in defence of the true ; 
 
 All hail to the stars that are sjt in their banner ! 
 
 All hail to the red, and the white, and the 
 
 blue! 
 
 As each columft wheels by, 
 Hear their hearts' battle-cry — 
 It was Warren's — ^Tis sii<eei /or oxir oou/ntry 
 to die! 
 
 Lancaster and Coos, Laconia and Concord, 
 Old Portsmouth and Keone, send their stal- 
 wart vounjr rnen ; 
 
PATRIOTIC SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 They corae from the plough, and the loom, and 
 the anvil, 
 From the marge of the sea, from the hill-top 
 and glen. 
 
 A3 each column wheels by. 
 Hear their heai-ta' battle-cry — 
 IX was Warren's — ' 7^s sweet for our cmintry 
 to die I 
 
 The prayei-s of fair women, like legioua of 
 ajigels, 
 Watch over our soldiers by day and by 
 night ; 
 And the King of all gloi-)', the Chief of all ar- 
 mies, 
 Shall love thetn and lead them who dare to 
 be i-ight ! 
 
 As each column wheels by, 
 Hear their hearts' battle-cry ^- 
 It was Warren's — '3*j sweH Jbr our country 
 to die / 
 
 MARCH ! 
 
 BY BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 With rushing winds and gloomy skies 
 The dark and stubborn Winter dies ; 
 Par-oif, unseen. Spring faintly cries, 
 Bidding her earliest chilxl arise : 
 
 March ! 
 
 By streams still held in icy snare, 
 On Southern hill-sides, melting bare, 
 O'er fields that motley colors wear, 
 That summons fills the chaMgeful air : 
 March ! 
 
 What though conflicting seasons make 
 Thy days their field, they woo or shake 
 The sleeping lids of Life awake, 
 And Hope is stronger for thy sake ; 
 
 March ! 
 
 Then from thy mountains, ribbed with snow, 
 Onee more tliy rousing bugle blow. 
 And East and West, and to and fro, 
 Proclaim thy coming to the foe : 
 
 March ! 
 
 Hay to the picket, chilled and numb, 
 Say to the camp's impatient hum, 
 Say to the trumpet and the drum : 
 Lift up your hearta, I come, I corae ! 
 March ! 
 
 Cry to the waiting hosts that stray 
 On sandy sea-sides far away, 
 By marshy isle and gleaming bay, 
 Where Southern March is Northern May, 
 March ! 
 
 Annotrace thyself with welcome noise, 
 Where. Glory's victor-eagles poise 
 Above the proud, heroic boys 
 Of Iowa and Illinois: 
 
 March I 
 
 Tlien down the long Potomac's line 
 Shout like a storm on hills of pine, 
 Till ramrods ring and bayonets ghiue — 
 " Advance ! the Chieftain's call is mine : 
 " Maroh !" 
 
 KISS ME, MOTHER, AND LET ME GO. 
 
 BY MISS NANCY A. W. PRIEST. 
 
 Havk you heard the news that I heard to-day ? 
 
 The news that trembles on every lip ? 
 The sky is darker again, they say, 
 
 And breakers threaten tlie good old ship. 
 Our country calls on her sous again, 
 
 To strike, in her name, at a dastard foe ; 
 She asks for six hundred thousand men ; 
 
 I would be one, mother. Let me go. 
 
 The love of country was born with me ; 
 
 1 remember how my young heart would thrill 
 When I used to sit on my grandame's knee 
 
 And list to the story of Bunker Hill. 
 Life gushed out there in a rich red flood ; 
 
 My grandsire fell in that tight, you know ; 
 Would you have me shame the brave old blood ^ 
 
 Nay, kiss me, mother, and let me go. 
 
 Our flag, the flag of our hope and pride. 
 
 With its stars and stripes, and its field of 
 blue. 
 Is mocked, insulted, torn down, defied, 
 
 And trampled upon by the rebel crew. 
 And England and France look on and sneer, 
 '* Ha ! queen of the earth, thou art fallen low ;' 
 Earth's down-trod millions weep and fear ; 
 So kiss me, mother, and let me go. 
 
 I Under the burning Southern skies, 
 
 I Our brothers languish in heart-sick pain, 
 
 They turn to us with their pleading eyes ; 
 
 ; mother ! say, shall they turn in vain ? 
 
 Their ranks are thinning from sun to sun, 
 
 Yet bravely they hold at bay the foe ; 
 Shall we let them die there, one by one ? 
 So kiss me, mother, and let me go.' 
 
 Can you selfishly cling to your household joys, 
 
 Refusing this smallest tithe to yield, 
 While thousands of mothers are sending boys 
 
 Beloved as yours to the battle-field V 
 Can you See my country call in vain, 
 
 And restrain my arm from the needful blow ? 
 Not so, though your heart should break with 
 pain. 
 
 You will kiss me, mother, and let me go. 
 
 A MOTHER'S ANSWER. 
 
 "l HAVE KISSED HIil, AND LET HIM QO." 
 
 He's my own boy, and this is my plea: 
 
 Perhaps it is foolish and weak ; 
 But mothers I'm sure will have pity on me, 
 
 And some word will tenderly speak. 
 The light of my home — my tears fall like 
 rain — 
 
 Is it wonder I shrink from the blow — 
 That my heart is crushed by its weight of pain ? 
 
 But I've kissed him, and let him go. 
 
6 
 
 soldiers' and sailors' 
 
 Ttiere are some, I know, who feci a atiange piide 
 
 In giving their countrj' tbeir all — 
 Who count it a glory thfit boys from their Bide, 
 
 In the strife are ready to fall. 
 But I, sitting here, have no pride in niy heart ; 
 
 (God forgive me that this should be so !) 
 For the boy tliat I love the tears still start, 
 
 Yet I've Jcissed him, and let him go. 
 
 Last night, with soft steps, I stole to his bed 
 
 As oft in childhoqd I'd done ; 
 On his pillow I bowed my poor, stricken head 
 
 Till out of the east rose the sun. 
 Ilia dreams were of me ; for he turned in his 
 sleep, 
 
 And murmured, " Dear mother !" so low, 
 I bit my pale lips lest they'd cowardly speak ; 
 " my dai-ling ! / can't let you go .'" 
 
 This morning I blessed him ; I stifled my pain ; 
 
 I bade him be true to his trust ; 
 To stand by tlie fl.ag till his country again 
 
 Should raise its proud head from the dust. 
 I knew by the light in his beautiful eyes, — 
 
 By his face with true courage aglow — 
 He'd fight to the last. I choked back my sighs. 
 
 While I kissed liim, and let him go. 
 
 But oh ! sitting here, this desolate day. 
 
 Still there comes no feeling of pride ; 
 But one knows my need, and to Him will I 
 pray — 
 
 I can trust Him whatever betide. 
 And if be shall fall — (0 faint heart ! be still !) 
 
 I know he will soften the blow, 
 And I yet may feel a patriot's thrill 
 
 That I kissed him, and let him go. 
 
 'Beware the pine-tree's biistling branch ! 
 Beware tlie Nortlicrn avalanche !" 
 And that was Scott's restraining voice ; 
 But still tliis was the traitor's choice — 
 Secession ! 
 
 At close of war, as toward their homee 
 Our troops as victors hurried on, 
 And turned to God a tliankful prayer, 
 A voice whined through the startled air- 
 Secesaion ! 
 
 A traitor by a soldier keen. 
 Suspended by the neck was seen, 
 Still grasping in his hand of ice 
 Tliat banner with this strange device — 
 Secession ! 
 
 There to the mournful gibbet strung, 
 Lifeless and horrible he hung ; 
 And from the sky there seemed to float 
 A voice like angel's warning note — 
 Secession ! 
 
 SECESSION. 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO GEN. BEAHREGARD. 
 
 The sun's hot rays were falling fast, 
 As throxigh a Southern city pusscd 
 A man who bore 'midst rowdies lov/, 
 A banner with the strange motto — 
 Secession ! 
 
 His brow was sad ; his mouth beneath 
 Smelt strong of fire at every breath : 
 And like a furious madman sung 
 The accents of that unknown tongue- 
 Secession I 
 
 In happy homes he saw the liglit 
 Of household fires gleam warm and bright ; 
 Above, the spectral gallows shone, 
 And ftom his lips escaped a groan — 
 Secession ! 
 
 "Try not that game !" Abe Lincoln said, 
 *' Dark lower the thunders overhead ; 
 The mighty North has been defied." 
 But still that drunken voice replied — 
 Secession ! 
 
 " Oh! pause!" the Quaker said, "and thiok 
 Before thee leaps from off the brink !" 
 Contempt was in his drunken leer ; 
 And still he answered with a sneer — 
 Secession 1 
 
 THE ZOUAVES' BATTLE-SONG. 
 
 BV J. HOWARD WAINWRIGUr. 
 
 Onward, Zouaves, Ellsworth's spirit still leads 
 
 us; 
 Onward, Zouaves, for our country still needs us ; 
 Onward, Zouaves, for our banner floats o'er us ; 
 Onward, Zouaves, for the foe is before us. 
 Chorus — Onward, Zouaves, 
 
 Do nothing by halves, 
 Home to the hilt with the bay 'net, 
 Zouaves. 
 
 Onward, Zouaves, for the foe hath defied us ; 
 
 Onward, Zouaves, we have brave men to guide 
 us ; 
 
 Let the sunlight and moonlight, from bayonets 
 glancing. 
 
 Tell the foe the vanguard of the North is ad- 
 vancing. 
 
 Onward, etc. 
 
 Onward, Zouaves, till we break down oppvesfiicn ; 
 Onward, Zouaves, till we crush out secession ; 
 We've sliown them our fi-iendship is honest ai;d 
 
 true, 
 We'll show them our wrath can be terrible too. 
 Onward, etc. 
 
 Onward, Zouaves, for our bugles are clanging; 
 Onward, Zouaves, the assassins need hanging ; 
 No longer we'll bear with tlieir rapine and wrong. 
 Their guilt makes them weak while our cause 
 makes us strong. 
 
 Onward, etc. 
 
 Onward, Zouaves — when the struggle is ended. 
 Homeward f/e'll carry the flag we've defended ; 
 Home, where our dear ones will greet with ca- 
 
 ressings ; 
 Home where our country will greet us with blea» 
 
 ings. 
 
 Onward, etc. 
 
PATRIOTIC SON«S AND HYMNS. 
 
 OnwaTd, Zouaves, till the traitors are punislied ; 
 Oaward, Zouaves, till the treason hath vanished ; 
 Onward, Zouaves, till once more in commuuion, 
 O'er tlie North and the South floats the flag of 
 our Union. 
 
 Onward, etc. 
 
 SKEDADDLE. 
 
 BY T. B. ALDRICH. 
 
 The sliades of night were falling fast, 
 As through a Southern village passed, 
 A cliap who bore, not over-nice, 
 A banner with the odd device. 
 Skedaddle ! 
 
 His hair was red ; his toes beneath 
 Peeped, like an acorn from its sheath, 
 While with a frightened voice he sung 
 A burden strange to Yanl^ee tongue 
 Skedaddle ! 
 
 He saw no household fire, where he 
 Might warm his tod or hominy : 
 Beyond the Cordilleras shone, 
 And from his lips escaped a groan. 
 Skedaddle 1 
 
 *' Oh ! stay," a cuUured pusson said, 
 
 " An' on dis bosom res' your hed !" 
 
 The Octoroon she winked her eye, 
 
 But still he answered, with a sigh, 
 
 Skedaddle ! 
 
 " Beware McGlellan, Byell, and Banks, 
 Beware of Halleck's deadly ranks !" 
 This was the planter's last good-night ; 
 
 • The chap replied, far out of sight, 
 Skedaddle ! 
 
 At break of day, as several boys, 
 From Maine, New- York, and Illinois, 
 Were moving southward, in the air 
 They heard these accents of despair, 
 Skedaddle ! 
 
 A chap was found, and at \\\i side 
 A bottle, showing how he died. 
 Still grasping in iiis hand of ice. 
 That banner with the odd device. 
 Skedaddle 1 
 
 There in the twilight, thick and gray, 
 Considerably played out he lay ; 
 And tlu'ough the vapor, gray and thick, 
 A voice fell, like a rocket-stick, 
 Skedaddle ! 
 
 UP AND AT THEM. 
 
 BY ALFRED B. STREET. 
 
 Up and at them 
 Once again ! 
 Freemen, up ! the way is plain. 
 At the traitors once again 1 
 Let not brief reverses daunt us ; 
 Let no craven fears assail ; 
 
 Treason's banner now may taunt us 
 In the fierce but fleeting gale ; 
 
 But the time again will come, 
 When again that flag shall cower 
 
 And the boasting voice be dumb, 
 
 Shouting now its little hour ! 
 
 Up and at them. 
 
 Freemen, then, the way is plain 1 
 
 At the traitors once again 1 
 
 Up and at them 
 Once again ! 
 Madmen ! fiercely though ye drain 
 War's red chalice, it is vain ! 
 Never shall ye rend asunder 
 
 Freedom's flag of stripes and stars ; 
 Freedom guards it with her thunder; 
 
 Down will smite your thing of bars, 
 Down your wretched counterfeit ; 
 
 In her roused and sacred rage. 
 She will tear and trample it ! 
 
 Holy is the war ye wage ! 
 Up and at them ! 
 Freemen, then, the way is plain ; 
 At the traitors once again ! 
 
 Up and at them 
 Once again ! 
 Though we bleed in every vein, 
 At the traitors once again ! 
 By the nation's ancient story, 
 
 By the deeds of other days. 
 By our hopes of future glory 
 
 By the deep disdain or praise, 
 That our action now awaits. 
 
 As we yield or dare the strife ; 
 Let us, through all adverse fates, 
 
 Swear to guard the nation's life? 
 Up and at them ! 
 Freemen, then, the way is plain ; 
 At the traitors once ajram ! 
 
 THE UNION! 
 
 A NATIOSAL SONG. 
 
 BY FRANCIS DE HAES JANVIER. 
 
 " Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and insepar- 
 able !" Wkbstbb 
 
 The Union ! The Union ! The liopo of the 
 
 free ! 
 Howsoe'er we may differ, in this we agree : 
 Our glorious banner no ti-aitor shall mar. 
 By effacing a stripe, or destroying a star ! 
 Division ! No, never ! The Union forever! 
 And cureed be the hand that our country would 
 
 sever ! 
 
 The Union ! The Union ! 'Twas purchaaed 
 
 with blood ! 
 Side by side, to secure it, our forefathers stood ; 
 From the North to the South, through the 
 
 length of the land, 
 Ran the war-cry which summoned that patriot 
 
 band! 
 
SOLDIEKS' AND SAILOES' 
 
 Division ! No, never! The Union for ever ! 
 And curaed be the hand that our country wouhl 
 sever ! 
 
 The Uuioii ! Tlie Union ! At Lexington first, 
 Through the clouds of oppression, its radiance 
 
 burst : 
 But at Yorktown rolled back the last vapory 
 
 crest, 
 And, a bright constellation, it blazed in the 
 
 West ! 
 Division ! No, never ! The Union for ever ! 
 And cursed be the hand that our country would 
 
 sever ! 
 
 The Union ! The Union ! Its heavenly light 
 Cheers the hearts of the nations who grope in 
 the night — 
 And, athwart the wide ocean, falls, gilding the 
 
 tides, 
 A path to the country where Freedom abides ! 
 Division ! No, never ! The Union for ever ! 
 And cursed be the hand that our country would 
 sever ! 
 
 The Union ! The Union ! In God we repose ! 
 We confide in the power that vanquished our 
 
 foes! 
 The God of our fathers — oh ! still may He be 
 The strength of the Union, the hope of the 
 
 free! 
 Division ! No, never ! The Union for ever ! 
 And cursed be the hand that our country would 
 
 sever ! 
 
 BATTLE-SONG OF THE FIFTY-FIRST. 
 
 The followins is the Battle-Song of the Fifty-first Ree-i- 
 meivt of New-York, sung by them as they approached tlie 
 u<jjs% of North-Carolina. 
 
 Sat, Rebpls, will you meet us, 
 Say, Rebels, will you greet us. 
 Say, Rebels, will you beat us. 
 
 On North-Carolina shore ? 
 
 In the name of God we'll meet you, 
 
 Witli the sword of God we'll greet you. 
 
 By the grace of God we'll beat you, 
 
 And treason punish ever, 
 
 Ou North-Carolina shore ; 
 
 Singing glory, hallelujah, 
 Singing gloi'v, hallelujah, 
 Singing glory, hallelujah, 
 
 To God for evermore ! 
 
 With the sword of " JefiF" you meet us, 
 In the name of "Jeff" you greet us. 
 In Treason's cause to beat u.s. 
 
 On North-Carolina shore: 
 But our flag shall float for ever, 
 And our Union none shall sever, 
 Aiid treason punish 6ver, 
 
 On North-Carolina shore. 
 
 Oh ! then, glory, hallelujah, 
 
 Oh ! then, glory, hallelujah, 
 
 Oh ! then, glory, halielujali, 
 
 To God fur evermore ! 
 
 THE STARS AND STRIPES. 
 
 BY JAMES T. FIELDS. 
 
 Rally round the flag, boys — 
 Give it to the breeze ! 
 
 That's the banner we love 
 On the land and seas. 
 
 Brave hearts are under it ; 
 
 Let tlie traitors brag ; 
 Gallant lads, tire away ! 
 
 And fight for the flag. 
 
 Their flag is but a rag — 
 
 Ours is the true one ; 
 Up with the Stars and Stripes — 
 
 Down with tlie new one ! 
 
 Let our colors fly, boys — 
 Guard them day and night ; 
 
 For victory is liberty, 
 
 And God will bless the right. 
 
 ON ! BROTHERS, ON ! 
 
 BY SAnAH WARNER BROOKS. 
 
 AiK—ITail to the Chief. 
 
 On ! brothers, on ! for the flag that is peerless ! 
 Striped from the rainbow, and starred from 
 the sky. 
 On, with a sturdy step ! dauntless and fearless! 
 On, to unfurl it in triumph, or die ! 
 Honored in all the lands, 
 Now shall unholy hands 
 Trail it, defiled and despi.sed, in the dust? 
 Down with the " traitor's rag ! " 
 Up with the starry flag ! 
 Death for our banner ! and God for the just ! 
 
 Fiercely at Sumter have thundered thuir cannon ! 
 
 Bravely the guns of our hero replied ! — 
 On ! for the ashes that slumber at Vernon ! 
 
 On ! for the city whose name is our pride i 
 Now let our country's guns 
 Sweep down the bastard sons ! 
 
 Woe for her chivalry's flower in the dust I 
 Down with the " traitor's rag! " 
 Up witli the starry flag ! 
 
 Death for our banner ! and God for the just I 
 
 On, with a prayer ! there is peril before us ! 
 
 On, in tlie face of death, fearless and proud I 
 Life ! with the flag that our fathers waved over 
 us ! 
 Death ! with its crimson-stained folds for a 
 shroud ! 
 
 Now for our "fatherland," 
 Strike with true heart and hand ! 
 Loyal our venture — and heavenward our 
 trust ! 
 Down with the " traitor's rag !" 
 Up with the starry flag ! 
 Death for our banner ! and God for the just 
 
 "I FIGHTS MIT SIGEL!" 
 
 BY GRANT P. ROBINSON. 
 
 I MKT him again, he was trudging along. 
 His knapsack with chickens was swelling; 
 
PATRIOTIC SONGS ^ND HYMNS. 
 
 He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, aad thought 
 it no wrong, 
 From some secessionist's dwelling. 
 "What regiment's yours? and under whose flag 
 Do you fight?" said I, touching his shoulder; 
 Turning slowly around, he smilingly said, 
 For the thought in;ide him stronger and bolder, 
 " ^ fi9^^'^ ""^ Si gel /" 
 
 The next time I saw him his knapsack was gone, 
 
 His cap and canteen were missing, 
 Shell, shrapnel, and grape, and the swift rifle- 
 ball 
 Around him, and o'er him, were hissing. 
 '' How are you, my friend, and where have you 
 been, | 
 
 And for what, and for whom are you fighting ?" 
 He said, as a shell from the enemy's gun 
 Sent his arm and his musket a " kiting :" 
 '■'• I fights mii SigelJ" 
 
 And once more I saw him and knelt by his side ; 
 
 His life-blood was rapidly flowing ; 
 I whispered of home, wife, children, and friends. 
 
 The bright land to which he was going ; 
 " And have you no word for the dear ones at 
 home. 
 The ' wee one,' the father or mother ?" 
 •' Yaw ! yaw !" said he, " tell them ! oh, tell them 
 I fights!"— 
 Poor fellow ! he thought of no other — 
 " I fights mil Sigel!''' 
 
 We scraped out a grave, and he dreamlessly 
 sleeps 
 On the bdnks of the Shenandoah River ; 
 His home or his kindred alike are unknown, 
 
 His reward in the hands of the Giver. 
 Wo plaoedt a rough board at the head of his 
 grave, 
 '' And we left him alone in his glory." 
 But on it we marked, ere we turned from the 
 spot. 
 The little we knew of his story : 
 
 " / fights niit S/gel .'" 
 
 ON GUARD. 
 
 BY JOHN G. NICOLAY. 
 
 In the black terror-night. 
 
 On yon mist-shrouded hill. 
 Slowly, with footsteps light, 
 
 Stealthy and grim and still. 
 Like ghost in winding sheet 
 
 Risen at midnight bell, 
 Over hi* lonely beat 
 
 Marches the sentinel ! 
 
 la storm-defy!ng cloak — 
 
 Hand on his trusty gun — 
 Heart, like a heart of oak — 
 
 Eye, never-setting sun; 
 Speaks but the challenge-shout, 
 
 All foes without the line. 
 Heeds but to solve the doubt. 
 
 Watchword and countersign. 
 
 Campward the watchfires gleam 
 
 Beacon-like in the gloom ; 
 Round them his comrades dr^m 
 
 Pictures of youth and home. 
 While in his heart the bright 
 
 Hope-fires shine everywhere, 
 In love's enchanting light 
 
 Memory lies dreaming there. 
 
 i-aint, through the silence come 
 
 From the foe's grim array, 
 Growl of impatient drum 
 
 Eager for morrow's fray ,• 
 Echo of song and shout. 
 
 Curse and carousal glee. 
 As in a fiendish rout 
 
 Demons at revelry. 
 
 Close, in the gloomy shade 
 
 Danger lurks ever nigh — 
 Grasping his dagger-blade 
 
 Grouches the 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 tire-flame, old 
 
 Visions unheeded dance. 
 Fearless of lurking spy, 
 
 Scornful of wassail-swell. 
 With an undaunted eye 
 
 Marches the sentinel. 
 
 Low, to his trusty gun 
 
 Eagerly whispers he, 
 ' Wait, with the morning sun 
 
 March we to victory. 
 Fools, into Satan's clutch 
 
 Leaping ere dawn of day : 
 He who would fight must watch, 
 
 He who would win must pray." 
 
 Pray ! for the night hath wings 
 
 Watch 1 for the foe is near ; 
 March! till the morning brings 
 
 Fame-wreath or soldier's bier. 
 So shall the poet write, 
 
 When all hath ended well, 
 ' Thus through the nation's night 
 
 Marched Freedom's sentinel." 
 
 OUR COUNTRY AND HER FLAG. 
 
 BY FRANCIS LIBBER. 
 
 Tvus — Gaudecmius igitur ; or, EinfreiM Lebon 
 fuUrtn wir. 
 
 We do not hate our epemy — 
 May God deal gently with us all ; 
 
 We love our land, we fight her foe, 
 We hate his cause, and that must falL 
 
 II. 
 
 Our country is a goodly land. 
 
 We'll keep her alway whole and hale ; 
 
Ip 
 
 SOLDIERS^ AND SAILORS' 
 
 We'll love her, live for ber, or die ; 
 To fall for her is not to fiiil. 
 
 Our Flag ! The Red shall mean the blood 
 We gladly pledge ; and let the White 
 
 Mean purity and solemn truth, 
 Unsullied justice, sacred right. 
 
 Its Blue, the sea we love to plough, 
 That laves the heaven-united land 
 
 Between the Old and Older World, 
 
 From strand, o'er mount and stream, to 
 strand. 
 
 The Blue reflects the crowding stars, 
 Bright union-emblem of the free ; 
 
 Come, all of ye, and let it wave — 
 That floating piece of poetry. 
 
 Our fathers came and planted fields. 
 And manly law, and schools and truth ; 
 
 They planted self-rule, which we'll guard 
 By word and sword, in age, in youth. 
 
 Broad freedom came a.ong with them 
 On history's ever-widening wings ; 
 
 Our blessing chis, our task and toil ; 
 For " arduous are all noble things." 
 
 Till. 
 
 Let Emp'ror never rule this land, 
 Nor fitful crowd, nor senseless pride ; 
 
 Our master is our self-made law, 
 To him we bow, and none beside 
 
 Then sing and shout for our free land, 
 For glorious Freeland's victory ; 
 
 Pray that in turmoil and in peace 
 Freeland oar laud may ever be. 
 
 That faithful we be found and strong 
 When History builds as corals build ; 
 
 Or when sherears her granite walls — 
 Iler moles with crimson mortar filled 
 
 THE MASSACHUSETTS LINE. 
 
 BT ROBERT LOWELL. 
 
 Air — Yankee Doodle. 
 
 Still first, as long and long ago, 
 
 Let Massachusetts muster ; 
 Give her the post right next the foe. 
 
 Be sure that you may trust her. 
 She was the first to give her blood 
 
 For Freedom and for Honor ; 
 She trod her soil to crimson mud, 
 
 God's blessing be upon her ! 
 
 She never faltered for the Right, 
 
 Nor ever will hereafter ; 
 Fling up her name with all your might, 
 
 Shake roof-tree and shake rafter. 
 But of old deeds she need not brag. 
 
 How she broke sword and fetter ; 
 Fling out again the old striped flag, 
 
 She'll do yet more and better. 
 
 In peace her sails fleck all the seas, 
 
 Her mills shake every river ; 
 And where are scenes so fair iw tliese, 
 
 God and her true hands give her ? 
 Her claim in war who seek to rob ? 
 
 All others come in later — 
 Hers first it is to front the mob, 
 
 The tyrant and the traitor. 
 
 God bless, God bless the glorious State, 
 
 Let her have way to battle ! 
 She'll go where batteries crash with fate, 
 
 Or where thick rifles rattle. 
 Give her the right, and let her try, 
 
 And then, who can, may press iver ; 
 She'll go straight on, or she will die, 
 
 God bless her ! and God bless her ! 
 DoANESBURGH, May 7, 1861. 
 
 THE SWORD, FLAG, AND PLOUGH. 
 Air — Red, White, and Blue. 
 
 Unsheathed is the sword of the nation I 
 
 Baptized in the blood of the brave. 
 The blade shall be Freedom's salvation 
 To break the last bond of the slave. 
 From river and mountain and valley, 
 
 Goes upward the patriot's vow, 
 And the legions of Liberty rally. 
 
 To follow the Sword, Flag, and Plougli. 
 Cho.—To follow the Sword, Flag, and Plough, 
 To follow the Sword, Flag, and Plough ; 
 
 And the legions of Liberty rally 
 To follow the Sword, Flag, aud Plough ! 
 
 Unfurl the Free Banner wherever 
 
 The dawnings of victory gleam. 
 
 And perish the traitor's endeavor 
 
 To darken fair Liberty's dream ! 
 
 The echoes of triumph are ringing 
 
 Where heroes are conquering now, 
 And the valor of Freedmeu is bringing 
 Success to the Sword, Flag, and Plough ! 
 Success to the Sword, Flag, and Plough, 
 Success to the Sword, Flag, and Plough ; 
 And the valor of Frcedmen is bringing 
 Success to the Sword, Flag, and Plough I 
 
 HI. 
 
 The Sword is the last liberator 
 
 The Angel of Justice has sent. 
 And freemen were false to their nature 
 
 To rivet a chain that is rent ! 
 
PATRIOTIC SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 11 
 
 The heart of a people rejoices, 
 
 The symbol of treason must bow, 
 And a chorus of jubilant voices 
 
 Hurrah for the SworrJ, Fla;:;. and Plough ! 
 Hurrah for the Sword, Flag, and Plough ! 
 Hurrah for the Sword, Flag, and Plough ! 
 
 And a chorus of jubilant voices 
 Hurrah for the Sword, Flag, and Plough ! 
 
 BANNER-SONfi OF THE IXDIAXA 
 ELEVENTH. 
 
 BT MRS. S. E. WALLACE. 
 AiR — Flao of Our Union. 
 
 A SONG for our flag, 
 
 A song for our band, 
 A song for the brave and the free ! 
 
 The motto wc wear, 
 
 United we stand,' 
 Tried and true comrades are w«. 
 
 Unit^id in heart, 
 
 United in hand, 
 A Union that time cannot sever. 
 
 Chorus — A shout for our flag, 
 A shout for our band. 
 Honor and Freedom for ever. 
 
 Unfurl the old flag, 
 
 Let it float far on high ; 
 The chorus exulting ascend ; 
 
 While one star remains 
 
 We conquer or die. 
 By the banner we dare to defend. 
 
 No cowardly heart. 
 
 No traitorous hand, 
 Mars the Union that Time cannot sever. 
 A shout for our flag, etc. 
 
 Where'er it may wave. 
 
 Our own standard-sheet, 
 By mountain, or river, or sea. 
 
 We press on the march 
 
 With unwearied feet. 
 While the gleam of its starlight we see. 
 
 Here's to our friends, 
 
 A health and a hand, 
 Remembrance that time cannot sever. 
 A shout for our flag, etc. 
 
 We're all for the North, 
 
 For the South, too, we are, 
 United, unchanged, evermore ; 
 
 No Palmetto flag 
 
 For us — no lone star, 
 But the Stripes and the old thirty-four. 
 
 Keep step to the song, 
 
 Be it right, be it wrong, 
 No State can the Union dissever ; 
 
 Hurrah for the Stripes 1 
 
 Hurrah for the Stars ! 
 The Union, the Union for ever ! 
 
 HARVARD STUDENT'S SONG. 
 
 BY JULIA WARD HOWE. 
 
 {Denkst du daran.) 
 
 Remember ye the fat<?ful gun that sounded 
 To Sumter's walls from Charleston's treacher- 
 OHE shore? 
 Remember ye how hearts indignant bounded 
 When our first dead came back from Balti- 
 rttore ? 
 The banner fell that every breeze had flattered, 
 Tl\e hum of thrift was hushed with sudden 
 woe ; 
 We raised anew the emblems shamed and shat- 
 tered. 
 And turned a front resolved to meet the 
 foe. 
 
 Remember ye, how forth to battle faring, 
 
 Our valiant ranks the fiei-fce attack with- 
 stood, 
 In all the terrors of the tumult bearing 
 
 The people's heart of dauntless lionhooJ ? 
 How many a hand forsook its wonted labor. 
 
 Forsook its gains, .asprizes fallen in worth. 
 To wield with pain the warlike lance and sabre, 
 
 To conquer Peace with God, for all on earth '? 
 
 Remember ye, how, out of boyhood leaping. 
 
 Our gallant mates stood ready for the fray ; 
 As new-fledged eaglets rise, with sadden sweep- 
 ing. 
 And meet unscared the dazzling front of 
 day? 
 Our classic toil became inglorious leisure, 
 
 We praised the calm Horatiau ode no more 
 But answered back with song the martiai 
 measure 
 That held its throb above the cannon's roar. 
 
 Remember ye the pageants dim and solemn, 
 Where Love and Grief have borne the funeral 
 pall ? 
 The joyless marching of the mustered column, 
 With arms reve^sfed to Him who conquers 
 all? ''•''■ 
 
 Oh ! give them back, thou bloody breiist of 
 Treason, 
 They were our own, the darlings of ou 
 hearts, 
 They come benumbed and frosted out of sea- 
 son. 
 With whom the summer of ovir youth de- 
 parts. 
 
 Look back no more ! our time has come, my 
 brothers 1 
 In Fate's high roll our names are written 
 too; ■ 
 We fill the mournful gaps left bare by others, 
 The ranks where Fear has never broken 
 through. 
 Look, ancient walls, upon our stern election ! 
 Keep, echoes dear, remembrance of our 
 breath, 
 And gentle eyes and hearts of pure affection, 
 Light ua, res61ved lo Victory or Death ! 
 
12 
 
 soldiers' and s^vilors' 
 
 TRUMPET SONG. 
 
 BT OUVKR \VK:!.'DKLL HOLMES. 
 
 The battle-drum's loud rattle is rending tlie 
 
 air, 
 The troopers all are mounted, their sabres are 
 
 bare ; 
 The guns are unlimbered, the bayonets shine, 
 Hark ! hark ! 'tis the trumpet-call ! wheel into 
 line ! 
 
 Ta ra ! ta ta ta ! 
 Trum trum, tra ra ra ra ! 
 Beat drums and blow trumpets ! 
 Hurrah, boys, hurrah ! 
 
 Mareh onward, soldiers, onward, the strife is 
 begun, ,j^, 
 
 Loud bellowing^rolls the boom of the black- 
 throated gun ; 
 
 The rifles are cracking, the torn banners toss, 
 
 The sabres are clashing, the bayonets cross. 
 Ta ra, etc. 
 
 Down with the leaguing liai-s, the traitors to 
 
 their trust, 
 Who trampled the fair charter of Freedom in 
 
 dust ! 
 They falter — they waver — they scatter — they 
 
 run — 
 The field is our own, and the battle is won ! 
 Ta T-a, etc. 
 
 God save our mighty people and prosper our 
 
 cause ! 
 We're fighting for our nation, our land, and our 
 
 laws ! 
 Though tyrants may hate us, their threats we 
 
 defy, 
 A'li' drum-beat and trumpet shall peal our reply ! 
 Ta ra ! ta ta ta ! 
 Beat drums and blow trumpets ! 
 Trum trum, ti'a ra ra ra ! 
 Hurrah, bovs, hurrah ! 
 
 PUT IT THROUGH. 
 
 Come Freemen of the land. 
 Come meet the last demand ! 
 Here's a piece of work in hand ; 
 Put it through. 
 
 Here's a log across the way. 
 We have stumbled on all da^y. 
 Here's a ploughshare in the clay : 
 Put it through ! 
 
 Here's a country that's half free, 
 And it waits for you and me. 
 To say what its fate shall be: 
 Put it through ! 
 
 While one traitor thought remains, 
 While one spot its banner stains, 
 One link of all its chains : 
 Put it through ! 
 
 Hear our brothei-s in the field, 
 Steel your swords as theiiii are steeled, 
 Learn to wield the arms they wield : 
 Put it through ! . 
 
 Lock the shop and lock the store, 
 Chalk this upon the door, 
 "We've enlisted tor the War!" 
 Put it through ! 
 
 For the birthrights yet unsold, 
 For the history yet untold, 
 For the future yet unrolled. 
 Put it through ! 
 
 Lest our children point with shajne, 
 On the father's dastard fame, 
 Who gave up a nation's name, 
 Put it througli ! 
 
 Father Abraham, hear us cry, 
 "We can follow, we can die." 
 Lead your chiMren then, and try. 
 Put it through ! 
 
 Here's a work of God half done. 
 Here's the kingdom of his Son, 
 With its triumphs just begun : 
 Put it through I 
 
 Father Abraham, that man thrives 
 Who with every weapon strives ; 
 Use our twenty million lives ! 
 Put it through ! 
 
 'Tis to you the trust is given ! 
 'Tis by you the bolt is driven ! 
 By the very God of Heaven, 
 Drive it through ! 
 
 SOUTH-CAROLINA GENTLEMAN. 
 Am — The Fine OUl English Gentletnan. 
 
 Down in a small Palmetto State the curious 
 ones may find, 
 
 A ripping, tearing gentleman, of an uncommon 
 kind, 
 
 A staggering, swaggering sort of chap, who 
 takes his whiskey straight, 
 
 And frequently condemns his eyes to that ulti- 
 mate vengeance which a clergyman of 
 high standing haa assured must be a 
 sinner's fate. 
 
 This South-Carolina gentleman, one of the pre- 
 sent time. 
 
 You trace his genealogy, and not far back you'll 
 see, 
 
 A most undoubted octoroon, or mayhap a mus- 
 tee. 
 
 And if you note the shaggy locks that cluster 
 on his brow, 
 
 You'll find that every other hair is varied with 
 a kink that seldom denotes pure Cauca- 
 sian blood, but on the contrary, betrays 
 an admixture with a race not particu- 
 larly popular now. 
 
 This South-Carolina Gentleman, one of the pre- 
 sent time. 
 
PATRIOTIC SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 18 
 
 He always wears a full-dress coat, pre-Adamite 
 in ci*:, 
 
 With waistcoat of the loudest style, through 
 which his ruffles jut. 
 
 Six breastpias deck his horrid front, and on his 
 fingers shine , 
 
 V/hole invoices of diamond rings which would 
 hardly pass muster with the Original 
 Jacobs in Chatham street for jewels gen- 
 u-ine. 
 
 This South-Carolina gentleman, one of the pre- 
 sent time. 
 
 He chews tobacco by the pound, and spits upon 
 the floor, 
 
 If there is not a box of sand behind the near- 
 est door, 
 
 And when he takes his weekly spree he clears 
 a mighty track, 
 
 or every thing that bears the shape of whiskey- 
 skin, gin and sugar, bi-andy sour, peach 
 and honey, irrepressible cock-tail rum, 
 and gum, and luscious apple-jack. 
 
 This South-CaroUna gentleman, one of the pre- 
 sent time. 
 
 He takes to euchre kindly, too, and plays an 
 awful hand, 
 
 Especially when those he tricks his style don't 
 understand, 
 
 And if he wins, why then he stoops to pocket 
 all the stakes, 
 
 But if he loses, then he says to the unfortunate 
 stranger who had clianced to win : " It's 
 ray opinion you are a cursed Abolitionist, 
 and if you don't leave South-Carolina in 
 one hour you will be hung like a dog." 
 But no offer to pay his loss he makes. 
 
 This South-Carolina gentleman, one of the pre- 
 sent time 
 
 Of course he's all the time in debt to those who 
 credit give, 
 
 Tet manages upon . the best the market yields 
 to live, 
 
 But if a Northern creditor asks him his bill to 
 heed, 
 
 This honorable gentleman instantly draws tVn 
 bowie-knives and a pistol, dons a blue 
 cockade, and declares that in conse- 
 quence of the repcted aggressions of 
 the North, and its gross vi.ilations of tlie 
 Constitution, he feels that it would ut- 
 terly degrade him to pay any debt what- 
 ever, and that in fact he has at last i]' • 
 termined to secede. 
 
 This South-Carolina gentleman, one of the pre- 
 sent time. 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S DREAM OF HOME. 
 
 BY CAROLINE A. MASON. 
 
 Yotr have put the children to bed, Alice — 
 
 Maud and Willie and Rose ; 
 They have lisped their sweet "Our Father," 
 
 AJid sunk to their night's r«piosc. 
 
 Did they think of me, dear Alice ? 
 
 Did they think of me, and say : 
 ' God bless him, and God bless him ! 
 
 Dear father, far away ?" 
 
 Oh ! my very heart grows sick, Alice, 
 
 I long so to behold 
 Rose, with her pure, white forehead. 
 
 And Maud,, with her curls of gold ; 
 And Willie, so gay and sprightly, 
 
 So merry and full of glee ; 
 Oh, my heart yearns to enfold ye, 
 
 My " smiling group of three !" 
 
 I can bear the noisy day, Alice ; 
 
 The camp life, gay and wild. 
 Shuts from my yeai-hing bosom 
 
 The thoughts of wife and child ; 
 But when the night is round nte, 
 
 And under its strong beams 
 I gather my cloak about me, 
 
 I dream such long, sad dreams ! 
 
 I think of the pale young wife, Alice, 
 
 Who looked up in my face 
 When the drum beat at evening. 
 
 And called me to my place. 
 I think of the three sweet birdlinga 
 
 Left in the dear home-nest, 
 And my soul is sick with longings 
 
 That will not be at rest. 
 
 Oh ! when will the war be over, Alice ! 
 
 Oh ! when shall I behold 
 Rose, with her pure, white forehead, 
 
 And Maud, with her curls of gold ; 
 And Will, so gay and sprightly. 
 
 So merry and full of glee, 
 j^nd, more than all, the dear wife 
 
 Who bore my babes to me ' 
 
 God guard and keep you all, Alice ; 
 
 God guard and keep me, too ; 
 For if only one were missing. 
 
 What would the other do '? 
 Oh ! when will the war be over. 
 
 And when shall I behold 
 Those whom I love so dearly. 
 
 Safe in the dear home-fold ? 
 
 THE RESPONSE. 
 
 I HAVE put the children to bed, Harry — 
 
 Rose and Willie and Maud ; 
 They hav« sung their hymns together, 
 
 And whispered their prayer to God. 
 Then Rose said, gently smiling, 
 
 " Come, Willie and Maud, now aay, 
 God bless the dear, sweet father — 
 
 Father so far away !'' 
 
 And such a glad trust arose, Harry 
 
 In this sad heart of mine ; 
 For I felt th;tt God would keep you 
 
 Safe in his hand divine. 
 And I kissed their pure, young foreheadg, 
 
 And said • " He is over all ! 
 
14 
 
 soldiers' akd sailors' 
 
 He counteth the hair of your heads, darling, 
 And noteth the sparrow's fall." 
 
 Then I teung them to their sleep, Harry, 
 
 With hymns all trust and love, 
 And I knew that God was listening 
 
 From his gracious throne above. 
 And since that calm, sweet evening, 
 
 I have felt so happy, dear ! 
 And 30 have the children, Harry ; 
 
 They seem to know no fear. 
 
 They talk of your coming home, Harry, 
 
 As something sure to be ; 
 I list to their childish pratings, 
 
 Nor care to check their glee. 
 For oh ! 'tis a cause so noble. 
 
 And you so brave and true ; 
 And God protects his own, Harry, 
 
 And surely will watch o'er you. 
 
 So keep up a brave good heart, Harry I 
 
 God willing — and he knows best — 
 We'll welcome you, safe and happy, 
 
 Back to the dear home-ne.st. 
 And Maud and Rose and Willie 
 
 Shall yet, with a moistened eye. 
 Give thanks to the dear, good Father, 
 
 While you stand tearful by. 
 
 THE LITTLE DRUMMER 
 
 A soldier's stort. 
 BT R. H. STODDARD. 
 
 'Tis of a little drummer 
 
 The story I shall tell ; 
 Of how he marched to battle, 
 
 And all that there befell. 
 Out in the West with Lyon, 
 
 (For once the name was^ue,) 
 For whom the little drummer beat 
 
 His Tttt-tat-ioo. 
 
 Our army rose at midtiiglit. 
 
 Ten thou.sand men as one, 
 Each slinging on his knapsack, 
 
 And snatching up his gnn : 
 •' i^on^flrrrf .'" and off" they started, 
 
 As all good soldiers do. 
 When the little drummer beats for them 
 
 His rat-tat-too. 
 
 Acro.ss a rolling country. 
 
 Where the mist began to rise ; 
 Past many a blackened farm-house, 
 
 Till the sun was in the .skies : 
 Then we met the vebel pickets, 
 
 Who skirmished and withdrew, 
 While the little drummer beat and beat 
 
 The rat-tat-ioo. 
 
 Along the wooded hollows 
 The line of battle ran. 
 
 Our centre poured a volley. 
 And the fight at once began ; 
 
 For the rebels answered shouting, 
 And a shower of bullets flew ; 
 
 But still the little drumnicr heat 
 His rat-tat-tcH). 
 
 He stood among his comrades. 
 
 As thi'V (niickly formed the lin", 
 And when they .raised their muskets 
 
 He watched the barrels sliine ! 
 When the volley rang, he started ! 
 
 For war to him was new ; 
 But .still the little drummer beat 
 
 His rat-tat-too. 
 
 It was a sight to see them 
 
 That early autumn day. 
 Our soldiers in their blue coats, 
 
 And the rebel ranks in gray : 
 The smoke that rolled between them. 
 
 The balls that whistled through. 
 And the little drummer as he beat 
 
 His rat- tat-too ! 
 
 HLs comrades dropped around him — 
 
 By fives and tens they fell, 
 Some pierced by Minlc bullets, 
 
 Some torn by shot and sliell ; 
 They played ag.ainst our cannon, 
 
 And a caisson's splintei-s flew; 
 But still the little drummer be.it 
 
 His rat-tat-too ! 
 
 The right, the left, the centre—- 
 
 The fight was everywhere ; 
 They pushed us here — we wavered^ 
 
 We drove and broke them there. 
 The gray-backs fixed their bayonets. 
 
 And charged the coats of blue ; 
 But still the little drummer beat 
 
 His roi-tat-too ! 
 
 " Wliere is our little drummer ?" 
 
 His nearest comrades say, 
 When the dreadful fight is over. 
 
 And the smoke has cleared away. 
 As the rebel corps was scattering 
 
 He urged them to pursue, 
 So furiously he beat and beat 
 
 The roi-tat-too ! 
 
 He stood no more among them, 
 
 For a bullet as it sped. 
 Had glanced and struck his ankle, 
 
 And stretched him with the dead! 
 He crawled behind a cannon, 
 
 And pole and paler grew : 
 But still the little drummer bea<"i 
 
 His rat-tat-too I 
 
PATRIOTIC SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 15 
 
 They bore him to the surgeon, 
 
 A busy man was he ; 
 " A drummer-boy — what ails him ?" 
 
 His comrades answered, "See!" 
 As they took him from the stretcher, 
 
 A heavy breath he drew, 
 And his little fingers strove to beat 
 
 The rat-tat-too ! 
 
 The ball had spent its fury : 
 
 " A scratch," the surgeon said, 
 As he wound the snowy bandage 
 
 Which the lint was staining red ! 
 ' I must leave you now, old fellow." 
 
 " Oh ! take me back with you. 
 For I know the men are missing me, 
 
 And the rat-tat-too P^ 
 
 Upon his comrade's shoulder 
 
 They lifted him so grand, 
 With his dusty drum before him. 
 
 And his drum-sticks in his hand ! 
 To the fiery front of battle. 
 
 That nearer, nearer dr6w — 
 And evermore he beat, and beat, 
 
 His rat-tat-too ! 
 
 The wounded, as he passed them, 
 
 Looked up and gave a cheer ; 
 And one in dying blessed him, 
 
 Between a smile and tear ! 
 And the gray-backs — they are flying 
 
 Before the coats of blue. 
 For whom the little drummer beats 
 
 His rat-tat-too. 
 
 When the west was red with sunset, 
 
 The last pursuit was o'er ; 
 Brave Lyon rode the foremost, 
 
 And looked the name he bore ! 
 And before him on his saddle, 
 
 As a weary child would do. 
 Sat the little drummer fast asleep, 
 
 With his rai-tat-too. 
 
 FLAG-SONG OF THE MICHIGAN VOLUN- 
 TEERS. 
 
 BY D. BETHCNE DUFFIELD. 
 
 Adapted to the Anvil Chorus from Trovatore. 
 
 Trumpet, and ensign, and drum-beat are calling. 
 
 From hill-side and valley, from mountain and 
 
 river, 
 
 *' Forward the flag!" e'en though heroes are 
 
 falling. 
 
 Our God will his own chosen standard deliver. 
 
 Chorus, 
 Star-Spangled Banner ! o\\t hopes to thee are 
 
 clinging. 
 Lead us to victory, or wrap its in death — 
 To thee stanch are we, while yet a breath 
 Remains to sing thee : 
 Or arm to fling thee. 
 O'er this fair land, wide and free. 
 
 " Union and Freedom !" our war-cry is rolling, 
 Now over the prairie, now wide o'er the 
 billow. 
 Hark, 'tis the battle, and soon will be tolling 
 The knell of the soldier, who rests 'neath 
 the willow. 
 
 Star-Spangled Banner, etc. 
 
 Banner triumphant 1 though grand is thy story. 
 We'll stamp on thy folds, in this struggle to- 
 day, 
 Deeds of our ai-mies, transcending in glory 
 The bravest yet chanted in Poesy's lay. 
 Star-Spangled Banner, etc. 
 
 Wise were our fathers, and brave in the battle, 
 
 But treason uprises their Union to sever, 
 Rouse for the fight ! shout aloud 'mid War's 
 rattle. 
 The Union must triumph, must triumph for 
 ever ! 
 
 Star-Spangled Banner, etc. 
 
 Trumpet, and ensign, and drum-beat are calling, 
 
 From hill-side and valley, from mountain and 
 
 river, 
 
 "Forward the flag!" e'en though heroes are 
 
 falling. 
 
 Our God will his own chosen standard deliver. 
 
 # Chorus. 
 
 Star-Spangled Banner 1 our hopes to thee are 
 
 clinging. 
 Lead us to victory, or wrap us in death. 
 DETRorr, April 29, 1861. 
 
Loyal Publication Societj— ISTo. 863 Broadway. 
 
 No. 49.-PART 2nd. 
 
 SOLDIERS^ AKD SAILORS^ 
 
 PA-TEiOTic soisras. 
 
 V' 
 
 THE VARUNA. 
 
 SOSK APRIL TWISNTT-FIFTH, 1SG3. 
 BY GEORGE H. BOKER. 
 
 Who has not heard of the dauntkss Varuna ? 
 
 Who has not heard of the deeds she has 
 done ? 
 Who shdl not hear, wliile the brown Mississippi 
 
 Rushes along from the snow to the sun '? 
 
 Crippled and leaking she entered the battle, 
 Sinking and burning slie fought through the 
 fray. 
 Crushed were her sides and the waves ran across 
 , her, 
 Ere, like a death-wounded lion at bay. 
 Sternly she closed in the last fatal giapple. 
 Then in her triumph moved grandly away. 
 
 Five of the rebels, like satellites, roifnd her, 
 Burned in her orbit of splendor and fear ; 
 
 One, like the pleiad of mystical stoi'y, 
 
 Shot, terror stricken, beyond her dread sphere. 
 
 We who are waiting with crowns for the victors. 
 Though we should effer the wealth of our 
 store, 
 Load the Varima from deck down to kelson, 
 
 Still would be niggard, such tribute to pour 
 On courage so boundless. It beggars posses- 
 sion, 
 
 It knocks for just payment at heaven's bright 
 door ! 
 
 Cherish the heroes who fought the Taruna ; 
 
 Treat them as kings if they honor your way ; 
 Succor and cortifort the sick and the wounded ; 
 
 Oh I for the dead, let us all kneel to pray. 
 
 THE STARS AND STRIPES. 
 
 BT THOMAS WILLIAMS, OF ALLEGHANY, PKNK. 
 
 Air — Irish Jaunting Car. 
 
 Brothers of free descent were we, and native 
 
 to the soil. 
 Knit soul to son), in one great whole, fruit of 
 
 our fathers' toil : 
 But when that bond of love was rent, the cry 
 
 rose near and far, 
 To arms ! to arms ! long live the stripes ! we 
 
 know no "single star." 
 Chorus — Hurrah! Hurrah! for the Union Flag, 
 hurrah ! 
 ■Hurrah for the Union Flag, that 
 knows no " single star." 
 
 So long as Southern arrogance forbore to 
 
 touch that flag, 
 Full many a taunt we meekly bore, and many 
 
 an idle brag : 
 But when on Sumter's battlements, the traitors 
 
 did it mar. 
 We flung abroad that Union Flag, that ne'er 
 shall lose a star. 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! for the Union flag, 
 
 hurrah ! 
 Hurrah for the Union flag, that ne'er 
 shall lose a star. 
 
 And first the gallant Keystone State, from every 
 
 mountain-glen, 
 From hill and valley, lake and town, SL'nt down 
 
 her stalwart men ; 
 And all New-England rose amain, as blew the 
 
 trump of war, 
 And raised on high their fathers' flag that 
 
 knows no single star. 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 From Saratoga's tree-crowned heights, from 
 
 Monmouth's bloody plain, 
 The men of York and Jersey, too, both swelled 
 
 the mustenng train, 
 As onward — onward — fierce it rushed o'er all 
 
 opposing bars, 
 To punish those who dared insult our glorious 
 Stripes and Stai-s. 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! ibr tlie Union fiag^ 
 
 hurrah ! 
 Hurrah for the Union fli^, with all ita 
 Stripes and Stars ! 
 
 And next the hardy pioneers, the dauntless 
 
 and the brave, 
 From those domains by Freedom won, that 
 
 never knew a slave, 
 Their trusty rifles all in hand, with eye and port 
 
 like M:irs, 
 Grasped once again with iron band, the staff 
 that l)ears our stars ! 
 
 Hurrah ! hun-ah ! for thp Union 
 
 flag, hurrah I 
 Hurrah for the Union flag, that bears 
 our Stripes and Stars ! 
 
 And from the bison's prairic-hauuts, o'er Mis* 
 
 sissippi's flood. 
 From Minnehaha's sparkling falls, fro.n KaUr 
 
 sas' land of blood, 
 
18 
 
 soldiers' and sailoks' 
 
 New-England's youngest scions there have 
 
 heard the din of wars, 
 And grasped tlieir fathers' ancient brand, and 
 
 reared their stripes and stars, 
 And belted on their fathers' brand and reared 
 
 their fathers' stara 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 And farther still, where sunset-seas bathe. Cali- 
 fornia's shore, 
 
 And grim Sierras darkly frown its golden treas- 
 ures o'er, ' 
 
 Our Western Twins have heard the call, and an- 
 swered from afar, 
 
 "We come ! we come ! Rear high the flag, that 
 knows no single star. 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 Missouri, too, her garments red, and little Dela- 
 ware, 
 
 "With heart as big as when of old she bore a 
 lion's share, 
 
 Have burst the chain which cramps the soul, 
 and all that's noble mars, 
 
 And wheeled in line, come weal or woe, be- 
 neath the Stripes and Stars. 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 And "Maryland, mir Maryland," though called 
 with " fife and drum," 
 
 And " old-line bugle," too, to fight against the 
 " Northern scum," 
 
 Has thought of Camden's bloody field and 
 Eutaw's iron scars, 
 
 And lo ! she stands, where erst she stood, be- 
 neath the Stripes and Stars. 
 Hurrah! etc. 
 
 Would we could say the same of thee, thou 
 
 dark and bloody ground ! 
 Whose sexless sages, false of heart, a way of 
 
 peace have found ! 
 Shame on you ! No half faith would we ! Up, 
 
 gird ye for the wars. 
 And take your place as men once more, beneath 
 
 the Stripes and Stars. 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 From thy Medusa glance we turn, with hearts 
 
 of cheer and pride, 
 To West-Virginia, virgin rib, torn from false 
 
 mother's side. 
 Daughter of strife ! Fair Freedom's child ! 
 
 Thy mountains ring afar. 
 With echoing shouts for that best flag that 
 
 counts another star. 
 . Hurrah ! et«. 
 
 And more 'twill count, no Pleiad lost, of all 
 
 that shining host. 
 Though dim eclipse have veiled their fires, and 
 
 traitors loudly boast ; 
 But one by one those wand'ring lights shall gem 
 
 our heavens, like Mars, 
 And all the nations bless our stripes and 
 
 coronet of stars 1 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 No other flag shall ever float above our homes 
 
 or graves, 
 Save yonder blading orifiamme, that flutters 
 
 o'er our braves ; 
 
 Its rainbow-stripes, our Northern lights — with 
 
 no sinister bars ; 
 Our ancient flag ! our fathers' flag ; our glori 
 
 ous Stripes and Stars ! 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 Then bear that banner proudly up, young war- 
 riors of our land, ^ 
 
 With hearts of love, and arms of faith, and more 
 than iron hand ! 
 
 Down with tlie Northern renegade ! and join 
 our gallant tars. 
 
 In rearing high, in victory, our deathless Stripes 
 and Stars ! 
 
 Hurrah ! etc. 
 
 A NATIONAL HYMN. 
 
 BY PAEK BENJAMIN. 
 
 Great God ! to whom our nation's woes, 
 Our dire distress, our angry foes. 
 In all their awful gloom are known. 
 We bow to thee and thee alone. 
 
 We pray thee mitigate the strife, 
 Attended by such waste of life. 
 Such wounds and anguish, groans and tears. 
 That fill our inmost hearts with fears. 
 
 Oh ! darkly now the tempest rolls, 
 Wide o'er our desolated souls ; 
 Yet, beaten downward to the dust. 
 In thy forgiveness still we trust. 
 
 We trust to thy protecting power 
 In this, our country's saddest hour, 
 And pray that thou wilt spread thy shield 
 Above us in the camp and field. 
 
 God of battles ! let thy might 
 Protect our armies in the fight — 
 Till they shall win the victory. 
 And set the hapless bondmen free. 
 
 Till, guided by thy glorious hand, 
 Those armies reiinite the land. 
 And North and South alike shall raise 
 To God their peaceful hymns of praise. 
 
 A BATTLE HYMN. 
 
 BY GEORGE H. BOKER. 
 
 God, to thee we humbly bow. 
 
 With hand unarmed and naked brow ; 
 
 Musket, lance, and sheathed sword 
 
 At thy feet we lay, Lord ! 
 
 Gone is all the soldier's boast 
 
 In the valor of the host : 
 
 Kneeling here, we do our most. 
 
 Of ourselves we nothing know : 
 Thou, and thou alone canst show, 
 By the favor of thy hand, 
 Who has drawn the guilty brand. 
 If our foemen have the right, 
 Show thy judgment in our sight 
 Through the fortunes of the fight I 
 
PATRIOTIC SONGS AND HYMNS. 
 
 19 
 
 If our cause be pure and just, 
 Nerve our courage with thy trust : 
 Scatter, in thy bitter wrath. 
 All who cross the nation's path : 
 May the bafHod traitors fly, 
 As the vapors from the sky 
 AVhen thy raging winds are high ! 
 
 God of mercy, some must fall 
 In thy holy cause. Not all 
 Hope to sing the victor's lay 
 When the sword is laid away. 
 Brief will he the prayers then said ; 
 Falling at thy altar dead, 
 Take the sacrifice, instead. 
 
 Now, God ! once more we rise, 
 Marching on bipeath thy eyes ; 
 And we draw the sacred sword 
 In thy name and at thy word. 
 Alay our spirits clearly see 
 Thee, through all that is to be. 
 In defeat or victory. 
 
 PARTING HYMN. 
 
 BY OUTER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 Am — DiMdee. 
 
 Father of Mercies, Heavenly Friend, 
 We seek thy gracious throne ; 
 
 To thee our faltering prayers ascend. 
 Our fainting hearts are known ! 
 
 From blasts that chill, from suns that smite, 
 From every plague that harms ; 
 
 In camp and march, in siege and fight. 
 Protect our men-at-arms ! 
 
 Though from our darkened lives they take 
 What makes our life most dear. 
 
 We yield them for tlieir country's sake 
 With no relenting tear. 
 
 Our blood their flowing veins will shed. 
 Their wounds our breast will share ; 
 
 Oh 1 save us from the woes we dread. 
 Or grant us strength to bear ! 
 
 Let each unhallowed cause, that brings 
 
 The stern destroyer, cease, 
 Thy flaming angel fold his wings. 
 
 And seraphs whisper Peace ! 
 
 Thine are the sceptre and the sword. 
 Stretch forth thy mighty hand — 
 
 Reign thou our kingless nation's Lord, 
 Rule thou our throneless land ! 
 
 HYMN OF THE CONNECTICUT TWELFTH. 
 
 Tone — America. 
 
 Be Thou our country's Chief, 
 In this our year of grief, 
 
 ■ All Father great ; 
 Go forth with awful tread. 
 Crush Treason's serpent head, 
 Bring back our sons misled, 
 And save our State. 
 
 Uphold our Stripes and Stars 
 Through war's destroying jars 
 
 With thy right hand ; 
 God of battles"! lead 
 Whcrtt our swift squadi'ons speed. 
 Where our brave brothers bleed 
 
 For Fatherland. 
 
 Break every yoke and chain. 
 Let ti-uth and justice reign 
 
 From deep to deep ; 
 Make all our staiues right 
 In thy most holy sight ; 
 Light us, Lord of Light, 
 
 Thy ways to keep. 
 
 God bless our Fatherland, 
 God make it stiong and grand 
 
 On sea and shore ; 
 Ages its glory swell. 
 Peace in its borders dwell, 
 God stand its sentinel 
 
 For evermore. 
 
 BATTLE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 BY MRS. JULIA WARD HOWK. 
 
 MiXE eyes have seen the glory of the coining 
 
 of the Lord ; 
 He is trampling out the Tintage where the 
 
 grapes of wrath are stored ; 
 He hath loosed the fateful hghtning of his 
 
 terrible swift sword : 
 
 His truth is marching on. ^ 
 
 I have seen^him in the watchfires of a hr.ndred 
 
 circling camps ; 
 They have builded him an altar in the evening 
 
 dews and damps ; 
 I have read his righteous sentence by the dire 
 
 and flaring lamps : 
 
 His day is marching on. 
 
 I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished 
 
 rows of steel ; 
 " As ye deal with my contemners, so with you 
 
 my gi-acc shall deal ; 
 Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent 
 
 with his heel. 
 
 Since God is marching on." 
 
 He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall 
 never call retreat ; 
 
 He is sifting out the hearts of men before his 
 judgment-seat ; 
 
 Oh ! be swift, my soul, to answer him ! be jubi- 
 lant, my feet ! 
 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 In the beauty of the lilies Christ was borne 
 
 across the sea. 
 With a glory in his bosom that transfigures 
 
 you and nie ; 
 As he died to make men holy, let us die to 
 
 make men free. 
 
 While God is marching on. 
 
BATTLE-HYMN OF* THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 BY MRS. JULIA WAKD HOWE. 
 
 A — m — f — **-f— S — -«"— i^ p*"— f^^; — «E — -+ 
 
 rt — ^ — 3 — -«_L_^ a»_: — ^' ^_: — 4^ W 
 
 :?L^,«_jt: 
 
 j_i_KP — -S--' 
 
 1. Mine eyes hare seen the glo - ly of the com - m. 
 
 1;^' \f 
 
 ■ — a^i 
 
 ^-- 
 
 :ia^ 
 
 s 
 
 of 
 
 the Lord : He is 
 
 B: 
 
 . -^- • r- -rr 
 
 hi — r— f— ■ 
 
 )<a> ' iri g id* • ^ — ia ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 > 1^ 
 
 ->f- 
 
 It?: 
 
 J^=^J= ^^— "^4 : 
 
 =!?^ 
 
 !^ 
 
 
 :=ir 
 
 ^: 
 
 :=^: 
 
 t; 
 
 ^j 
 
 tramp-ling out the vin - tage wliere the g'nnp«» of wrath are stored; He hath 
 
 ter - ri - ble swift sword : His truth is mareh-ing 
 
 loosed the fate - ful light-ning of his 
 
 ■^ ^ ^ f^ ^ 
 
 m- 
 
 ha - jah ! Glo - rv, glo - ry. hal - le - lu 
 
 jah! His truth is marching on! 
 
 I I 
 
 E 
 
 s±s 
 
 I^I 
 
 -r-m- 
 
 3i^ 
 
 I ^ '^ ^ 
 
 I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred 
 
 circlinfr; camps ; 
 They have buildcd him an altar in the evening 
 
 dews and damps ; 
 T have read his righteous sentence by the dim 
 
 and flaring lamps : 
 
 His day is marching on. 
 
 I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished pws 
 
 of steel : 
 "As ye deal with my contemners, so with you 
 
 my grace shall deal ; 
 Let the hero, born of women, crush the serpent 
 
 with his heel, 
 
 Since God is marching on." 
 
 He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall 
 never call retreat ; 
 
 He is sifting out the hearts of men before hLs 
 judgment-seat : 
 
 Oh ! be swift, my soul, to answer him ! be jubi- 
 lant, my feet ! 
 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 In the beauty of the lilies Christ was borne 
 
 across the sea, 
 With a glor}"^ in his bosom that trasisfigures you 
 
 and me : 
 As he died to make men holy, let us die to malia 
 
 men free, 
 
 While God is marching on. 
 
THE STAR-SPANG-LED BANNER. 
 
 f 0, say, can you yco by the dawn's car - ly light, "Wliat so proud-Iv w-* 
 ( Whose broad stripes and bright stars thro' the peril-ous fight, O'ur the ramparts wc 
 
 
 -^- 
 
 -^- 
 
 - ^ — b»>H ->* 
 
 :[-: 
 
 ■I 4-<S W «• j— 
 
 Semi-Chorus. 
 
 s, s s 
 
 fj 
 
 ^ 7^ 1 — s«— l-*l « — 1— ^ 1 :;r ' ' ' ' ' ' 1 i 
 
 lifct 
 
 J '^ 
 
 hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming, ) 
 watch'dwereso gal-lant -ly streaming? ) And the rockets' rod glare, the bombs bnrstin^T in 
 
 Full Chorus 
 
 :t^=it 
 
 2± 
 
 tJ 
 
 
 air, gave proof thro' the'night that our flag was still there. 0, say, docs that star-spangled 
 
 I -Km- _ I i: o 
 
 ^,-7-^ *»- 
 
 _fd :^. 
 
 :t2=t2: 
 
 :^: 
 
 
 
 
 -P Ii9 PR — fe 
 
 
 =1: 
 
 3^2; 
 
 j^_ 
 
 ^ 
 
 4=1= 
 
 '1=^: 
 
 H-— -fV:;; — «< M — i — n- 
 
 ban - ner yet wave, O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! 
 
 |glillE-i|[ 
 
 W- 
 
 Of—, ^- 
 
 On the shore, dimly seen through tlic mist of 
 the deep, 
 Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence 
 reposes, 
 What is that which the breeze o'er the towering 
 steep, 
 As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses T 
 Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first 
 beam, 
 T In full glory reflected now shines on the stream- — 
 ^^Tis the star-spangled banner, oh ! long may it 
 wave 
 O'er the land of the free, and the home of the 
 brave. 
 
 And where is that band who so vauntingly swore. 
 That the havoc of war, and the battle's confu- 
 sion, 
 A home and a country should leave us no more? 
 Their blood has washed out their foul foot- 
 steps' pollution. 
 
 No refuge could save the hirclinjj and slave i 
 From tiic terror of flight, or the gloom of tnc 
 
 grave. 
 And the star-spangled banner in triuaiph doth 
 
 wave 
 O'er the land of the free, and the home of the 
 
 brave. 
 
 Oh ! thus be it ever, when freemen shall s'ar.d 
 Between their loved homes 'and the war's de- 
 solation ! 
 Blessed with victory and peace, may the heaven- 
 rescued land • 
 Praise the Power tliat hath made and preserved 
 us a nation. 
 Then conquer we must, when our ca^jsc it is just. 
 And t!)»is be our motto — "//i God is O'lr trnut !" 
 And the star-spangled Imnner in Iriumph shall 
 
 wave 
 O'er the land of the free, and the home cf th« 
 br;.ive. 
 
OUR UNilON. 
 
 Written for the great Sumter Mass Meeting, at Union Square, April llth, 1863. 
 
 ■a4 
 
 Maestoso. 
 
 -^rt 
 
 BY ALITREr) B. STREET. 
 
 ^^: 
 
 Air — Red, White and Blue, 
 
 i 
 
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 a^zzzi^-zi:^ 
 
 1. Oar 
 
 2. Our 
 
 3. Our 
 
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 U - nion the gift of our 
 U - nion, ordained by Je 
 U - nion ! the lightning of 
 
 ^=*=:J=it:J: 
 
 -i^=S- 
 
 fa - thers ! In wrath was the tern - pest a ■ 
 ho - vah ! Man sets not the fi - at a • 
 bat - tie, First kin - died the flame of its 
 
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 R^4=p=g 
 
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 :r==ff;=P: 
 
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 gj ^^Egzi :^ 
 
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 3=^= 
 
 t^=iS: 
 
 -»i r* r*-i 
 
 bove ; The dark -er and near - er the dan- ger, 
 side • As well cleave a - sun - der the wel -kin, 
 
 shrine; The blood and the tears of our peo-ple, 
 
 The warmer and clo-scr our 
 As the one mighty sys-tem di - 
 Have made it for - ev - er di - 
 
 
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 love. Though bleeding, it nev-er shall per-ish; 
 vide. The grand Mis-si - sip - pi sounds ev-er, 
 vine. In bat - tie we thJen will sus - tain it, 
 
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 Will strive till the triumph is 
 
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 blast ; Fierce foes, eager rush on to rend it, But we will be true to the lust, 
 
 cree; The spindle, the corn and the cot -ton One poe - an shout. Union, to thee! 
 won ; Till the states form the realm of the Union, As the sky forms the realm of the sun. 
 
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 Then hail to our U - nion of pride ! Stand guard till the tempest is past ! We 
 
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 all, in de - fence of the U-niou, 
 
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AMERICA 
 
 1. My country, 'tis 
 
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 fathers died; Land of the pilgrim's pride; From ev -ery mountainside Let freedom ring. 
 
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 My native country, thee, 
 Land of the noble free. 
 
 Thy name I love ; 
 I love thy rocks and rills, 
 Thy woods and templed hills. 
 My heart with rapture thrills, 
 
 Like that above. 
 
 Let music swell the breeze. 
 And ring from all the trees 
 
 Sweet freedom's song ; 
 Let mortal tongues awake. 
 Let all that breathe, partake, 
 Let rocks their silence break. 
 
 The sound prolong. 
 
 Our fathers' God, to thee, 
 Author of liberty, 
 
 To thee we sing ; 
 Long may our land be bright 
 With freedom's holy light. 
 Protect us by thy might. 
 
 Great God, our King. 
 
 GOD SAVE OUR NATH^E LAND. 
 
 BY JAMES WALDEN. 
 
 God save our native land 
 From the invader's hand — 
 
 Home of the free ! 
 Though ruthless traitors aim 
 To crush our nation's fame. 
 Yet still in Freedom's name, 
 
 We cling to thee ! 
 
 Lord ! we humbly pray, 
 Far distant be the day 
 
 Ere that shall be ; 
 Though lawless bands combine 
 To shatter Freedom's shrine 
 With faith and hope divine 
 
 We cling to thee I 
 
 Lord ! when hand to hand. 
 Brothers as foes shall stand, 
 
 Shield thou the right ! 
 Stay these unhappy wars, 
 Join us in our great cause. 
 To guard our nation's laws, 
 
 With freemen's might ! 
 
 Lord ! may this strife soon cease ; 
 Grant us a lasting peace — 
 
 Parted we fall ! 
 Long may our banner wave 
 Over the free and brave — 
 Lord ! our country save — 
 
 God save us all ! 
 
 GOD PROTECT US. 
 
 BT GEORGE G. W. MORGAN. 
 
 Lord ! we humbly pray. 
 Thy blessing here to-day 
 
 On us may fall ; 
 Grant us our earnest prayer, 
 Shield those who need our care, 
 Let them thy blessings share — 
 
 God save us all ! 
 
 Lord ! we'd lead the van, 
 E'er in behalf of man, 
 
 When held in thrall ; 
 Be with us in the fight. 
 Now in the cause of right ; 
 Cursed be the .slaver's might — 
 
 God save us all ! 
 
 Lord ! we fain would pray, 
 Thy grace for ever may 
 
 Direct this war ; 
 And where our flag's unfurled, 
 Be Freedom's? gauntlet hurled, 
 Bid Justice rule the world 
 
 For evermore. 
 
ARMY »YMN 
 
 BY OLIVEK WENDELL HOLMES 
 
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 To ev - cry arm thy strength im - part, Thy Spir - it shed through ev ■ 'ery hearfel 
 
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 ARMY HYMM. 
 
 Lord of hosts ! Almighty King ! 
 Behold the sacrifice we bring ! 
 To every arm thy strength impart, 
 Thy Spirit shed through every heart ! 
 
 "Wake in our breasts the living fires, 
 The holy fiiith that warmed our &"ire.s : 
 Thy hand hath made our nation free ; 
 To d;e for her, is serving thee. 
 
 Be thou a pillared flame, to show 
 The midnight snare, the silent foe ; 
 And when the battle thunders loud. 
 Still guide us in its moving cloud. 
 
 'God of all nations ! Sovereign Lord ! 
 1:1 thy dread nam^ we draw the s^vord ; 
 We lift the stgirjy fl;ig on high, 
 That fills with light our stormy sky. 
 
 From treason's ren^, from murder' .s stain. 
 Guard thou its folds till peace shall reign ; 
 Till fort and field, till shore and sea, 
 Join oir Lud anthem, Praise to Thee ! 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S HYMN. 
 
 God of our fathers, on the earth. 
 Girt for the fight, thy servants stand ; 
 
 bless us ere the trumpet sound, 
 
 With strength from thy almighty hand. 
 
 The cloud of war comes from the South ; 
 
 The battle-storm bursts o'er our heads ; 
 Our starry flag a rainbow bright, 
 
 A glor\* round our pathway sheds. 
 
 Our fathers' spirits watch that flag 
 
 They left to us without a stain ; 
 
 TTe take their motto in oiir hearts — 
 
 " To die for liberty is gain." 
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 And when victorious wc return, 
 
 Oh ! may those folds bo pur© and free 
 
 As when our father Washington 
 
 Gave us our ting and liberty. ' 
 
 Thou God of battles, hear our prayer ! 
 
 From western plains to eastern coasts, 
 Strong in thy blessing forth we march — 
 
 Our trust is in the Lord of hosts. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 012 196 732 7 f