With welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death-for the Stripes and the Stars! O God of our fathers! this banner must shine EDNA DEAN PROCTOR. THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG. COME, brothers! rally for the right! Beside the Atlantic wave! We've borne the Yankee trickery, But ready now with shot and steel Now Georgia marches to the front, Her sisters by the Mexique Sea, A Nation hoists the Bonnie Blue Flag By every stone in Charleston Bay, We swear to rest not, night nor day, But hunt the tyrants down! Till, bathed in valor's holy blood The gazing world afar Shall greet with shouts the Bonnie Blue Flag That bears the cross and star! ANNIE CHAMBERS KETCHUM. TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE. THAT late, in half-despair, I said: 'The Nation's ancient life is dead; Her arm is weak; her blood is cold; Oh, in your long forbearance grand, Throughout the land there goes a cry: Draw forth your million blades as one! BAYARD TAYLOR. THE TWO FURROWS. THE spring-time came, but not with mirth; The banner of our trust, And with it the best hopes of earth Were trailing in the dust. The farmer saw the shame from far, And stopped his plough afield; "Not the blade of peace, but the brand of war, This arm of mine must wield. "When traitor hands that flag would stain, The farmer sighed. "A life-time long With ready strength the farmer tore And to the village smith he bore That ploughshare, stout and good. The blacksmith's arms were bare and brown, And loud the bellows roared; The farmer flung his ploughshare down: And then a merry, merry chime Good sooth, it was a nobler rhyme Than ever poet sung. The blacksmith wrought with skill that day; The blade was keen and bright; And now where thickest is the fray The farmer leads the fight. Not as of old that blade he sways But through the rebel ranks he lays The farmer's face is burned and brown, But light is on his brow; Right well he wots what blessings crown "But better is to-day's success C. H. WEBB. SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. [May, 1861.] AN old and crippled veteran to the War Department came; He sought the Chief who led him on many a field of fame The Chief who shouted "Forward!" where'er his banner rose, And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes. "Have you forgotten, General," the battered soldier cried, "The days of Eighteen Hundred Twelve, when I was at your side? Have you forgotten Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane? 'Tis true I'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight again." "Have I forgotten?" said the Chief; "my brave old soldier, no! And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so: But you have done your share, my friend; you're crippled, old, and gray, And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day." |