Which menace with their Wrong our Right, Words now are wasted glittering steel Alone can make the last appeal : They 've will'd it so and we must fight. IX. Move on the columns! If they go Let that which woke the fiery wrath Not man, but God, may stay the blow. CLOSE LANDER. BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. LOSE his bleak eyes -- they shall no more Flash victory where the cannon roar; And lay the battered sabre at his side, LANDER. Take him, New England, now his work is done. 163 he was there. Speak of him gently, of his mien, his air; Intolerant of every mean desire : Ice where he liked not; where he loved, all fire. Take him, New England, gently. Other days, So, on New England's bosom, let him lie, 164 GENTLY! GENTLY! GENTLY! GENTLY! Among the wounded was a young soldier whose limbs were fearfully shattered. Though evidently in intense pain, he uttered no cry; but, as the carriers raised the "stretcher" he was on, he whispered, "Gently! gently!" THOUGH he neither sighs nor groans, Bear him o'er the jutting stones Gently! gently! Sisters, faithful to your vow, Swathe his limbs and cool his brow: Peace! his soul is passing now Gently! gently! He has fallen in the strife! Tell it to his widowed wife, And to her who gave him life, Gently! gently! Loudly praise the brave who gem And their faults — oh, speak of them Gently! gently! BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. COUNTRY, marvel of the earth! And we who wear thy glorious name, Shall we, like cravens, stand apart, And they who founded, in our land, Knit they the gentle ties which long These sister States were proud to wear, And forged the kindly links so strong Our humming marts, our iron ways, Our wind-tossed woods on mountain crest, The hoarse Atlantic, with his bays, The calm, broad Ocean of the West, And Mississippi's torrent flow, And loud Niagara, answer, No! Not yet the hour is nigh, when they För now, behold the arm that gave The victory in our fathers' day, That mighty arm which none can stay, |