And is the old flag flying still Speak, pilot of the storm-tost bark! O landsmen, these are fearful seas O landsman, art thou false or true? Above thy head our flag shall spread, The bark sails on the Pilgrim's Cape Lies low along her lee, Whose headland crooks its anchor-flukes To lock the shore and sea. No treason here! it cost too dear To win this barren realm! And true and free the hands must be Still on! Manhattan's narrowing bay Her waters feel no pirate's keel -But watch the light on yonder height,— Some lingering cloud in mist may shroud Say, pilot, what this fort may be From moated walls that show the sea The breakers roar,-how bears the shore? Ha! say not so! I see its glow! Again the shoals display The beacon light that shines by night, The good ship flies to milder skies, The softening breeze wafts o'er the seas What fold is this the sweet winds kiss, Whose shadow palls these orphaned walls, What! heard you not Port Royal's doom? And turned the Beaufort roses' bloom On! on! Pulaski's iron hail The good ship feels the freshening gale,—— She rounds the point, she threads the keys The good ship Union's voyage is o'er, And loud and clear with cheer on cheer Hurrah! Hurrah! it shakes the wave, One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE VIRGINIANS OF THE VALLEY. THE knightliest of the knightly race, Have kept the lamp of chivalry Alight in hearts of gold; The kindliest of the kindly band, Who, rarely hunting ease, Yet rode with Spotswood round the land, And Raleigh round the seas; Who climbed the blue Virginian hills, Against embattled foes, And planted there in valleys fair The lily and the rose; Whose fragrance lives in many lands, Whose beauty stars the earth, And lights the hearts of many homes We thought they slept-the sons who kept And slumbered while the darkness crept But still the Golden Horseshoe knights Whose foes have found enchanted ground, FRANCIS O. TICKNOR. KEARNEY AT SEVEN PINES. [May 31, 1862.] So that soldierly legend is still on its journeyThat story of Kearney who knew not to yield! 'Twas the day when with Jameson, fierce Berry, and Birney, Against twenty thousand he rallied the field. Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose highest, Where the dead lay in clumps through the dwarf oak and pine, Where the aim from the thicket was surest and nighest, No charge like Phil Kearney's along the whole line. When the battle went ill, and the bravest were solemn, Near the dark Seven Pines, where we still held our ground, He rode down the length of the withering column, And his heart at our war-cry leapt up with a bound. He snuffed, like his charger, the wind of the pow der, His sword waved us on, and we answered the sign; Loud our cheer as we rushed, but his laugh rang the louder : "There's the devil's own fun, boys, along the whole line!" How he strode his brown steed! How we saw his blade brighten In the one hand still left-and the reins in his teeth! He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten, But a soldier's glance shot from his visor beneath. Up came the reserves to the mellay infernal, Asking where to go in-through the clearing or pine ? "O, anywhere! Forward! 'Tis all the same, Colonel : You'll find lovely fighting along the whole line!" O, evil the black shroud of night at Chantilly,' That hid him from sight of his brave men and tried! Foul, foul sped the bullet that clipped the white lily, The flower of our knighthood, the whole army's pride! Yet we dream that he still-in that shadowy region Where the dead form their ranks at the wan drummer's sign Rides on, as of old, down the length of his legion, And the word still is Forward! along the whole line. EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN. 1 General Philip Kearney lost his life at the battle of Chantilly, Va., Sept. 1, 1862, by becoming separated from his men and riding by mistake into the Confederate line. It was growing dark and raining heavily, when Kearney, coming suddenly upon some skirmishers, asked what troops they were; but perceiving they were Confederates, he wheeled his horse and dashed away. Half-adozen shots rang out, and he fell dead. |