Then ranged our cannons to the breach
With haughty purpose, each to each,
And silent still we stood for speech,

Till Rosy rode along the line.
Uprose our gunners, grim and bare,
To light the torch of victory there!
Now close the charging foemen surge,
To mock the awful lightning's verge;
Down to the front our leader darts-
"Aim low! aim low! my flinty hearts!"
And soon about the colors true
Our drummer beats his wild tattoo!

Then but to see the chieftain's look;
The word he gave-that word we took-
"Give them a blizzard!" Lord, it shook!
As Rosy rode along the line.

Back rolled the flood, and in its track
We drove their quailing legions back;
As horse and foot we followed on,
With bloody cost the day was won!
Then homeward Rosy took his course,
Our wounded drummer on his horse;
"Well done!" said he; "well done, brave men,
Please God, we'll do as well again."

Then marched we in with three times three
For Murfreesboro, the victory.

Ah! 'twas a sight for men to see,

When Rosy rode along the line.

KANE O'DONNEL.

THE "MONITOR" AND HER CHILDREN.

AN ODE,

DEDICATED TO THE CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES.

'The gale at this time was raging furiously. The water had succeeded in rising up to the grate-bars of the furnaces, and was gradually extinguishing the fires. The vessel was now sinking. The moon, which up to this time had been giving some light, was shut in by masses of black clouds: and at three quarters of an hour past midnight, on the morning of the last day of 1862, the Monitor's light disappeared beneath the waves."-Account by a gentleman on the Rhode Island.

A ship foundering at midnight !-the Monitor!-ho!
The mistress of ocean in whelming waves!
Deep-deeper and stronger the terrible flow

"

Is sweeping the struggling to watery graves;
The conqueror peerless, now yielding to one
Who can turn into peril our glory and bliss-
Make "coating metallic" and "monster gun
A sinker for sounding the dark abyss.
Yes, sinking! like soldier of ancient date,
When suddenly launched upon waters mad

In his death-defying scales and plate-
His impervious armor-" iron-clad."
Oh! we think of the day when, from havoc of blood,
The Devourer* fled, wounded, away in her shame,
And duels and tournaments since the world stood,
Took their place out of sight, hardly claiming a

name.

Yet one more agony for the relief

Yet one more desperate yearn to save! 'Tis in vain. Alas! But a moment briefAnd the plunge-the gurgle-the closing grave. Over" turret" a prouder boast of mind, Sublimer symbol-for ever gone!— Than towers colossal of towns refined,

That crash and vanish in earthquake's yawn.

The great rebel iron-clad, the Merrimac or Virginia.

For ever gone with thy guardian power?
And thy country, bereft of thee,
So easy a prey, in an ill-starred hour,

To some hostile giant ruling the sea?
"We are here!" the Monitor's Children cry,

And the voices are looming athwart the gloom: "Ne'er mother went down, to be raised so highLeft such an example-so honored a tomb. "We are many. In us she lives, and more,

As mother in stalwart and filial band;
In her faith we have sworn, on sea and shore
To fulfil her counsel-her loyal command.
We are one-as our country must ever be―
In our heavenly trust and our glorious cause,
Dealing death upon treason and tyranny,

For Union, Liberty, Virtue, and Laws.

"We are ready! All clad in our heaviest mail,
Yet buoyant to breast the "heaviest " gale.
We are ready! To pour our iron hail,
Till inimical bulwarks tremble and fail-
Till Rebellion has uttered its dying wail,

And tyrants," admonished," no more shall assail— 'And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall

wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.'" SUSQUEHANNA.

THE AMERICAN NATION.

BY JAMES S. WATKINS.

The American Nation!

She knows not her strength, Whose armies are millions, through Her breadth and her length; Her Union is strength

She dreads not the world, Though at her, unjustly, They've thunderbolts hurled.

With her navy of iron,

And sailors of steel,
She scorns haughty Europe,
Whose tyrannic heel
Would crush with oppression
(If crush it they could)
That birthright her freemen
Have purchased by blood.

The American Nation!
A light to the world,
Where Liberty's emblem,
By freemen unfurled,
Waves aloft, in its glory,

O'er steeple and dome,
Protecting and granting

The oppressed a home. The American Nation!

All freemen we have! No serfs, à la Russia,

The nobleman's slave!
But a land where the poor
The sceptre can wield,
And rule with the wealthy,
'Neath Liberty's shield.

The American Nation!
Independent and free!
God grant she, through ages,
United may be:

Ay, grant that her banner Of starry-gemmed blue Shall now and for ever

Wave over the true.

EMERALD GROve, Md.

THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.

Lines suggested after the Alarm and Bloody Contest of Major Cole's Command on Loudon Heights.

BY A CONNECTICUT SOLDIER.

A soldier reclines in the noisy camp,

Dreaming of home and the loved ones there, Unheeding alike the measured tramp

And the martial music which fills the air.

Oh! how delicious that beautiful dream!
With tremulous joy, in a fond embrace
He folds to his heart his loved ones again,

And looks with delight in each radiant face.

Sweet voices, like melody, fall on his ear,
And baby-lips prattle in welcoming glee;

On the cheek of his wife there's a glittering tear,
As she whispers : Beloved, I've been praying

for thee."

แ

She tells him how oft, in the watches of night,
Her prayers were breathed forth to the Father
above,

That He, in his infinite goodness and might,
Would spread o'er her husband a mantle of love.

The soul of the sleeper is thrilling with joy,

But his dream is dispelled by the tones of command:

"To arms!" shouts the captain; "brave soldiers, to

arms!

And fight for your country—the foe is at hand!" 'Mid that terrible conflict, 'mid carnage and strife, The soldier is calm, and his spirit is free; He thinks of his children-he thinks of his wifeAnd murmurs: "I know they are praying for me."

And with a strong arm that is nerved for the right, And with a true heart for his country and God, He's a hero that day in the midst of the fight,

And wins a proud name to be sounded abroad. Few knew of the talisman worn in his breastLove, blended with faith, is inciting him on; He thinks not of danger, he seeks not for rest, Till the battle is ended-the victory won.

BLACK TOM.

Hunted by his rebel master

Over many a hill and glade, Black Tom, with his wife and children, Found his way to our brigade.

Tom had sense and truth and courage,
Often tried where danger rose-
Once our flag his strong arm rescued
From the grasp of rebel foes.

One day Tom was marching with us
Through the forest as our guide,
When a ball from traitor's rifle

Broke his arm and pierced his side.

On a litter white men bore him,

Through the forest drear and damp, Laid him, dying, where our banners Brightly fluttered o'er our camp. Pointing to his wife and children, While he suffered racking pain, Said he to our soldiers round him, "Don't let them be slaves again !"

"No! by Heaven!" outspoke a soldier,
And that oath was not profane-
"Our brigade will still protect them-
They shall ne'er be slaves again."

Over Old Tom's dusky features
Came and staid a joyous ray;
And with saddened friends around him,
His free spirit passed away.

"PEACE ON EARTH."

Peace! when over every land and sea
Is heard no more the cry of Slavery;
When bondmen are no longer bond, but free,
And freedmen shout aloud-" Sweet Liberty !"

"Victoria Apteryx "" the Wingless Victory."

When brother's heart no longer burns with strife,
His hand no longer takes his brother's life;
When the sweet wild rose shall bloom and bud
Where battle-fields were drenched with human blood.

A PATRIOTIC FATHER.-An officer from Louisville led one of Rosecrans's regiments into battle, his superior having been called to other duty. In the advance, this man's son fell by a rebel bullet. The father saw him fall, but could not stop to care for him. Narrat

Paymaster Rochester, feeling his lips to be unsealed by the death of General Wadsworth, tells that he always paid him from his entry into the service, and that when the General called on him for money on the eve of starting to the Mississippi Valley on a special mission connected with the arming and organization of the slaves of that region, he casually remarked to him that when he got to New-Orleans he would find there Paymaster Vedder, to whom he would recommend him as a gentlemanly officer to apply for any moneys he might need. "No, sir," said General Wadsworth; "I shall not apply to Major Vedder. While I am in the service I shall be paid only by you. And my reason for that is, that I wish my account with the Government to be kept with one paymaster only; for it is my purpose at the close of the war to call on you for an accurate statement of all the money I have received from the United States. The amount, whatever it is, I shall give to some permanent institution founded for the relief of disabled soldiers. This is the least invidious way in which I can refuse pay for fighting for my country in her hour of danger."

HOW SECRETARY STANTON SETTLED A POINT.

WASHINGTON, Feb. 3, 1864.-The town is laughing at an amusing story of a recent interview between the Secretary of War and the President of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. It is too good to be lost, and I give it as I find it afloat:

"The draft has fallen with great severity upon the employés of our Company."

"Indeed ?"

tears in his eyes: "My boy, you know, is gone. I was in temporary command of the regiment, and as we were pressing on I saw my boy fall. I could not turn back to help him, so I said to a soldier, 'Look to Johnnie,' and went on, and we did the work we

went to do."

ANECDOTES OF GENERAL BUFORD.-Major-General Buford, than whom probably no commander was so devotedly loved by those around him, was offered a major-general's commission in the rebel army when in Utah. He crushed the communication in his hand, and declared that he would live and die under the flag of the Union. A few hours before his death, and while suffering from delirium, he roundly scolded his negro servant; but recovering himself temporarily, he called the negro to his bedside and said to him: "Edward, I hear I have been scolding you. I did not know what I was saying. You have been a faithful servant, Edward." The poor negro sat down and wept as though his heart was broken. Wher General Buford received his commission as Major-General, he exclaimed: "Now, I wish that I could live." His last intelligible words, uttered during an attack of delirium, were: "Put guards on all the roads, and don't let the men run back to the rear." This was an illustration of the ruling passion strong in death, for no trait in General Buford's character was more conspicu

"Let them pay the commutation."

"Impossible! the men can't stand such a tax." "They have a rich Company at their back, and that's more than other people have."

They ought to be exempted, because they are necessary to the working of the road for the Government."

"That can't be."

"Then I will stop the road."

"If you do, I will take it up and carry it on." The discussion is said to have been dropped at this point, and the very worthy President is still working the road as successfully as ever

JEFF DAVIS IN WAX.-A London correspondent

says:

"It was written of old that Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked.' Jefferson (President of the confederates) kicked and now waxes. In other words, Madame Tussaud has added him to her wax figures. He stands comfortably near McClellan, who waxed here as he waxed in America, and was the last addition but one to her wonderful gallery — that one being Hunt, the murderer of his wife and children in the cab. Madame Tussaud has artists hard at work on the five pirates of the Flowery Land who were lately hanged."

on the rear.

BISHOP POLK.-Of General Bishop Polk, the Nashville Times speaks in the following terms:

He was a selfish, egotistical, vain-glorious, shallow man, who had no sympathy whatever with those who were outside of his aristocratic circle. He looked on his slaves in the same light that Fielding's Parson Trullaber looked on his fat hogs, and prized their bodies a good deal more than the souls of his sheep. Indeed, the sheep of his pastorate grazed not tender grass, or succulent clover, but polk weed. Of them it might be said in the words of Milton's Lycidas: "The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,

But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread:
Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
Daily devours apace, and nothing sed."

His preaching was, of course, execrable. Those who have unfortunately been compelled to listen to his discourses say that they would rather be shot at by his cannons in the field than listen to his church canons in the pulpit.

In his rubric, self was God, the slave code was the Bible, large revenues the chief end of man, and poverty the unpardonable sin.

A CAMP CELEBRATION.-A Maine regiment celebrated their flag-raising, near Beaufort, S. C., with a wild entertainment, consisting of foot-races, mock parades. climbing of greased poles, etc. One part of it is thus described:

The next comical feat was performed by several small colored boys, who were to hunt with their heads for a piece of money in a tub of meal, with their hands tied behind their backs. The tub, filled with meal, was placed on the ground, and the boy on his knees commenced his explorations, with his mouth open to seize the money. As he would bring up his head to regain his breath and puff out a mouthful of meal, and show to the crowd a mealy face with little stripes and spots of black in fine contrast, and the back of his head appearing through, the effect was so ludicrous that there was a universal shout of laughter, and when the boy at last appeared with the money between his teeth, the cheering was vociferous. Two other boys made the attempt, but were unsuccessful; they were rewarded for their exertions, however, and left the field, "the observed of all observers."

A RESIDENT in the town of Camillus, N. Y., Almon Wilber, was enlisted at Syracuse. He stated that he is the oldest of twelve brothers, sons of William and Electa Wilber, of Camillus, and that now they had all entered the service of the United States. This brother is now between forty-four and forty-five years of age; and none of the twelve brothers weigh less than two hundred pounds. His son enlisted at the same time he did.

GENERAL LEE AND OLD JOHN BROWN.-A letter to the Pittsburgh Chronicle, from Harper's Ferry, contains the following:

"It was not known to me until yesterday, and may possibly be unknown to you, that Colonel Robert E. Lee, United States army, now General Lee of the confederate forces, was one of the chief actors in the prologue to the tragic national drama, the different acts of which the whole country has been watching with such exciting interest for the past three years. It is, nevertheless, the fact, however. Let me tell you about it briefly. "Old John Brown" had not only worked at the arsenal at Harper's Ferry, but was intimately

The

acquainted with all the details of the works, and knew, besides, what building among the ruins of some fifty now remaining was the strongest for defence. This was the engine-house, and after making a little raid to Halltown, and capturing Colonel Lewis Washington, among other slaveholders of the Shenandoah Valley, he moved back to the Ferry, and ensconced himself with his twenty followers in this engine-house. alarm throughout Harper's Ferry that night was terrible, and during the whole of the following live-long day Brown held his position, and having made portholes through the brick walls, shot several citizens who had the temerity to show themselves about the building. The lookers-on were terror-stricken, and the two thousand Virginia militiamen, with their captains, colonels, and generals, who had assembled in the vicinity of John Brown's stronghold, not knowing the force that he really had, were completely nonplussed, and waited anxiously for the Government troops from Washington, who had been sent for.

By three o'clock the following morning, sixty marines, under the immediate command of Lieutenant Green, but directed by Colonel Robert E. Lee, reached Colonel Lee orthe Ferry by cars from the capital. dered his detail to stand under arms in the public self leading them, to the front of the building fortified street till sunrise, when he conducted the men, he himand occupied by Brown. The lookers-on viewed this soldierly movement with astonishment and awe, expecting to see Colonel Lee shot down as other leaders had been. But not a shot was fired. Lieut. Green the door of the engine-house, and John Brown asked: was ordered to demand a surrender. He knocked at "Who goes there?" Marines, who, by authority of Colonel Lee, demands "Lieut. Green, United States "unless I, with my men, am allowed to cross the an immediate surrender." "I refuse it," said Brown, bridge into Maryland, unmolested, after which you can take us prisoners if you can." Lee refused to allow this, and ordered Lieut. Green to renew his demand for immediate and unconditional surrender. John Brown refused these terms, and four of the marines; who had got tremendous sledge-hammers from the works, began battering at the door of the engine-house. The engine had been moved against the door, and it would not yield. "Ten of you," said Lee, "take that ladder and break down the door." Five on each side, the third stroke it yielded and fell back. the soldiers drove the ladder against the door, and at Colonel Lee and the marines jumped in-one man John Brown shot through the heart-and then was overpowered citizens, was released, and John Brown handed over Colonel Washington, with other to the civil authorities, after which Colonel Lee took the train to Washington again.

and surrendered.

And such is the historical episode which I listened to last night from a citizen who was himself a witness to it. Who knows how much it may have influenced Robert E. Lee to forsake the flag of the United States and become a chieftain in the rebel cause?

MARKED ARTICLES.-Some of the marks which are fastened on the blankets, shirts, etc., sent to the Sanitary Commission for the soldiers, show the thought and feeling at home. Thus-on a home-spun blanket, worn but washed as clean as snow, was pinned a bit of paper which said: "This blanket was carried by Milly Aldrich (who is ninety-three years old) down hill and up hill one and a half miles, to be given to some soldier."

On a bed-quilt was pinned a card, saying: "My son is in the army. Whoever is made warm by this quilt, which I have worked on for six days and most all of six nights, let him remember his own mother's love." On another blanket was this: "This blanket was

used by a soldier in the war of 1812-may it keep some soldier warm in this war against traitors."

On a pillow was written: "This pillow belonged to my little boy, who died resting on it; it is a precious treasure to me, but I give it for the soldiers."

On a pair of woollen socks was written: "These stockings were knit by a little girl five years old, and she is going to knit some more, for mother says it will help some poor soldier."

On a box of beautiful lint was this mark: "Made in a sick-room, where the sunlight has not entered for nine years, but where God has entered, and where two sons have bid their mother good-by as they have gone out to the war."

On a bundle containing bandages was written: "This is a poor gift, but it is all I had; I have given my husband and my boy, and only wish I had more to give, but I haven't."

On some eye-shades were marked: "Made by one who is blind. Oh! how I long to see the dear Old Flag that you are all fighting under !"

SONGS OF THE REBELS.

Though to look on to-night the visage that showed
The pale death relapse, and the eye sunk and dim.
Then toll the bell sadly, solemnly toll,
A hero is passing to glory's last goal.

Come, stand by the corpse, look down on that face,
Mark where the bullet burst its way through,
See where the death-pang left its last trace

As the lead messenger struck, unerring and true. Then hushed, gather round, let our tears be like rain, A truer cavalier we shall ne'er see again.

Ah! the story he wrote with the point of his sword,
How it thrilled through the cities, how it stirred up
the land;
Who can forget how the hireling horde

Ran blating for mercy when he did command.
At the North though they mock, and rejoice at his fall,
With grief-laden flowers will we cover his pall.

Oh! how like the besom of fate in their rear,

Came the wave of his plume and the flash of his blade,

When, bursting from covert, to his troopers will cheer,
The bugle, it sounded the charge in the raid.
Now his plume is at rest, his sword in its sheath,

And the hand that should grasp it is nerveless in death.

Make his grave where he fought, nigh the field where he fell,

In blossoming Hollywood, under the hill, In sight of the hearth-stones he defended so well, That his spirit may be guardian sentinel still, And there let a finger of marble disclose The spot where he lies-point the skies where he J. MARSHALL HANNA.

rose.

THE CONTRABAND'S RETURN.

HERMINE.

Don't you know me, Massa William ?
Don't you know me, Missus dear?
Don't you know old Aunt Rebecca,

Who went away from you last year,
With Peter, Phil, and Little Judy,

To join the wicked Yankee crew?
But I've come back, my dear old Missus,
To live and die with you.

I never knew the old plantation
Was half so dear a place to me.
As when among that Yankee nation
The robbers told me I was free;
And when I looked around for freedom,
(We thought it something bright and fair,)
Hunger, misery, and starvation,

Was all that met us there.

How often, when we used to shiver,

All through the long cold winter night,

I used to study 'bout my cabin,

The hearth all red with pinewood light!
I saw they would not make us happy,
And yet they would not let us go-
Ah! 'twas hatred of our white folks,
Not love for us, I know.

"And Peter ?" Ah! old Massa Peter
Has gone from this cold earth away
He was too old to be a soldier,

They worked him hard both night and day: