Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Of the rebels whom mercy still spares
To boast of the traitorous fray,

No boy in the Blue thinks or cares,
For the struggle is ended to-day.

Let them come as they promised to come,
Under Union and Liberty too,

And we'll hail them with fife and with drum,
And forget that they fired on the Blue.
Then up with the Blue and down with the Gray,
And hurrah for the Blue that won us the day!

As they carried your flag through the fray,
Ye Northmen, ye promised the Blue
That ye'd never disgrace with the Gray
The color so gallant and true.

Will ye trace on the leaves of your souls
The Blue and the Gray in one line,
And mingle their hues on the scrolls
Which glorify Victory's shrine,

And cheer for the false, and hiss at the true,
And up with the Gray and down with the Blue!

Let the traitors all go if you may,

(Your heroes would punish the Head),

But never confound with the Gray

The Blue, whether living or dead.

Oh! remember the price that was paid-
The blood of the brave and the true-
And you never can suffer to fade

The laurels that cover the Blue.

Then up with the Blue, and down with the Gray,
And hurrah for the Blue that won us the day!

The Death of King Bomba of Naples. Page 293. Ferdinand II, King of the two Sicilies, who died at Bari, on the Adriatic, in 1859, was called King Bomba, according to some authorities, because during an insurrection he ordered the bombardment of his cities. This poem was first published in Punch.

The Golden Wedding. Page 294. This poem has been mistakenly attributed to David Gray, the young Scottish poet (b. 1838, d. 1861) who had so romantic and mournful a history. It was written in 1862, by DAVID GRAY, editor of the Buffalo, N. Y., Courier, for a golden wedding in Albany. Mr. Gray died in 1888. His writings have been edited by J. N. Larned.

Tacking Ship off Shore. Page 295. MITCHELL (b. in Nantucket about 1825) is an Episcopal clergyman and resides in New York City. This poem was published in the Atlantic Monthly in 1858.

The Mistress of the House. Page 297. I have not been able to ascer tain anything whatever concerning the author of this poem.

[ocr errors]

In the Hospital. Page 299. These lines were long supposed to have been found under the pillow of a soldier who died at Port Royal, South Carolina."

The Petrified Fern. Page 302. Mrs BRANCH, a native of Brooklyn, resides in Connecticut.

Tuloom. Page 303. Mr. ELLSWORTH, who resides in Windsor, Conn., published a volume of poems in 1855, of which this one alone has gained popular favor. It appeared originally in Putnam's Magazine.

The Ocean. Page 307. A small volume of Mr. SHEA's poems, edited by his son, the Hon. George Shea, was published in New York in 1846. Mr. SHEA was born in Ireland in 1802, and died in New York in 1845.

Spinning-Wheel Song. Page 308. Mr. WALLER, an Irish barrister, was born in 1810.

The Burial of Béranger. Page 309 This poem, which appeared about three years before the John Brown song, probably furnishes the original of its popular refrain. It exemplifies the power of musical versification, the striking thought being put somewhat clumsily in the earlier poem, but with perfect rhythm in the later and better known

one.

The Song of the Western Men. Page 310. Mr. HAWKER, who was Vicar of Morwenstow, in Cornwall, for forty-one years, was born in England in 1804, and died in 1875. He was an eccentric character, and published several little volumes of verse The interesting story of his life, written by Sabine Baring-Gould, has been re-published in New York. Trelawney was one of the seven bishops that were committed to the Tower in 1688, and the refrain of this poem was a popular catch at the time. The story is told in chapter VIII. of Macaulay's History. Mr. HAWKER slightly altered his poem from time to time; I have preferred to give his first version.

Crossing the Rappahannock. Page 314. The incident related in this poem occurred at the battle of Fredericksburg, in December, 1862, when the pontoon bridges were being laid for the National army to cross the river. The bridges had not spanned more than half the distance when the sun rose and the fog lifted sufficiently to reveal what was going on. A detachment of Mississippi riflemen had been posted in cellars, behind stone walls, and at every point where a man could be sheltered on the south bank; and now the incessant crack of their weapons was heard, picking off the men that were laying the bridges. The losses were so serious that it was impossible to continue the work. . . . . At last, General Hunt suggested a solution of the difficulty. Four regiments that volunteered for the service-the 7th Michigan, the 19th and 20th Massachusetts, and the 89th New York-crossed the river in pontoon boats, under the fire of the sharpshooters, landed

quickly, and drove them out of their fastness, capturing a hundred of them, while the remainder escaped to the hills.

Roll-Call. Page 316. Mr. SHEPHERD was a New York journalist.

Heroes. Page 317. This poem was contributed by Miss PROCTOR to the publication of a sanitary fair during the last year of the War of the Rebellion.

Moonlight. Page 318. Mr. WEEKS. born in New York in 1840, was a graduate of Yale College, and died in 1876. Three volumes of his poems. were published, in 1866 76. They contain much fine work, but the piece here given has surpassed all the others in popularity.

The Song of Rorek. Page 319. This poem appeared originally in the Atlantic Monthly. Its author, a business man of New York, published B small volume of original poems and translations in 1864, under the pen-name of JOHN W. MONTCLAIR.

Easter. Page 328. Dr. CUTTING, who was born in Windsor, Vt, in 1813, and died in Brooklyn, N. Y.. in 1882, wrote many fugitive poems, which have never been collected.

If I Should Die To-Night. Page 329. This poem, originally published in The Christian Union in June, 1873, was brought into special prominence when H. Rider Haggard inserted a large portion of it, without credit, in his novel entitled "Jess" (887), where it is supposed to be written by the heroine and addressed to the hero, the necessary changes for that purpose being made. The lines have been attributed to Henry Ward Beecher and to others, but the evidence leaves no reasonable doubt that Miss SMITH, of Tabor College, Iowa, is their author.

Cuddle Doon. Page 331. The author of this piece is a Scottish working-man, whose poems have been published in a small volume.

Light. Page 333. Mr. BOURDILLON is an Englishman, born in 1852. What My Lover Said. Page 333. This poem has been attributed to Horace Greeley from the accident that the writer's initials, corresponding to his, were signed to it on its first appearance in the New York Evening Post. Some controversy has arisen over the authorship, one newspaper correspondent asserting with great positiveness that the lines were written by Richard Realf: but they bear no marks of Realf's hand. Mr. GREENE is a lawyer of Honesdale, Pa., whose name is known in magazine literature.

What Does It Matter? Page 335. Mr. BARKER, being elected to the Maine legislature, received a circular requesting material for a biographical sketch, and wrote this poem in reply.

The Last Redoubt. Page 336. Mr. AUSTIN, an English journalist, born in 1835, has published three novels, several tragedies, and two or three small volumes of poems, of which this one alone seems to have caught the popular ear.

INDEX OF FIRST LINES.

PAGE

Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint

A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun
Afar in the desert I love to ride
A good sword and a trusty hand

Ah me! full sorely is my heart forlorn

A jolly fat friar loved liquor good store
Alas! how dismal is my tale

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

Alas! the weary hours pass slow

264

A little elbow leans upon your knee

272

"All quiet along the Potomac," they say

263

[blocks in formation]

As one who, destined from his friends to part
A supercilious nabob of the east

284

111

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight

[blocks in formation]

Behold this ruin! "T is a skull

201

Bury Béranger! Well for you

309

Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride

52

By Nebo's lonely mountain

249

By the flow of the inland river

By the merest chance, in the twilight gloom

Come a little nearer, Doctor,—thank you !—let me
Come see the Dolphin's anchor forged; 't is at a
Come to me, darling, I 'm lonely without thee
"Corporal Green!" the orderly cried

Could I pass those lounging sentries

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

359

« AnteriorContinuar »