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322

SPRING AT THE CAPITAL.

And now your startled stems are all a-tremble with the jar of drums.

Whether it lessen or increase,

Or whether trumpets shout or cease, Still deep within your tranquil hearts the happy bees are humming " Peace!"

O flowers! the soul that faints or grieves, New comfort from your lips receives; Sweet confidence and patient faith are hidden in your healing leaves.

Help us to trust, still on and on,

That this dark night will soon be gone, And that these battle-stains are but the blood-red trouble of the dawn

Dawn of a broader, whiter day
Than ever blessed us with its ray,

A dawn beneath whose purer light all guilt and wrong shall fade away.

Then shall our nation break its bands,

And, silencing the envious lands,

Stand in the searching light unshamed, with spotless robe, and clean, white hands.

THE REGIMENT RETURNED.

323

THE REGIMENT RETURNED.

BY PARK BENJAMIN.

THE fife blows shrill, the drum beats loud;
I hear the tramp of many feet

Come echoing up the city street,

With cheers and welcomes from the crowd.

It is the regiment returned

That went away three months ago; Fearless they met the Southern foe, And with true patriot ardor burned.

Their looks and dress are somewhat worn;
But every gun is free from rust,

And that is honorable dust

Upon their caps and knapsacks borne.

Their banner still is held on high,

Though soiled with wind and rain and smoke,

As bravely as when first it broke In light, like sunrise, on the sky.

In the full front of battle shown,
It onward led the serried files

O'er many rough and weary miles,
Through wild, beleaguered paths unknown.

324

THE REGIMENT RETURNED.

Against its folds the shot were cast,

From hidden batteries, charged with death; And though its bearer held his breath, 'T was carried upward to the last.

And now, still marching where it waves,
The bold survivors of the band,
Returning to their own dear land,
Have left behind their comrades' graves.

But, vowing to avenge their loss,

Soon, where those comrades fought and fell, They'll meet once more, and conquer well Beneath the Union's starry cross.

'Tis right to welcome home with cheers
These patriot soldiers, fresh from fight;
Though some no longer greet our sight,
But claim their country's grateful tears.

For them we mourn; for these we raise
Our happy plaudits to the sky,

And, as their ranks come marching by,
Reward their courage with our praise.

VOICE OF THE NORTHERN WOMEN. 325

VOICE OF THE NORTHERN WOMEN.

BY PHOEBE CARY.

ROUSE, freemen, the foe has arisen,
His hosts are abroad on the plain ;
And, under the stars of your banner,
Swear never to strike it again!

O, fathers, who sit with your children,
Would you leave them a land that is free?
Turn now from their tender caresses,
And put them away from your knee.

O, brothers, we played with in childhood,
On hills where the clover bloomed sweet;
See to it, that never a traitor

Shall trample them under his feet.

O, lovers, awake to your duty

From visions that fancy has nursed; Look not in the eyes that would keep you ; Our country has need of you first.

And we, whom your lives have made blessed,
Will pray for your souls in the fight;
That you may be strong to do battle
For Freedom, for God, and the Right.

326

THE LATEST WAR NEWS.

We are daughters of men who were heroes;
We can smile as we bid you depart;
But never a coward or traitor

Shall have room for a place in our heart.

Then quit you like men in the conflict,
Who fight for their home and their land;
Smite deep, in the name of Jehovah,
And conquer, or die where you stand.

THE LATEST WAR NEWS.

OH pale, pale face! Oh helpless hands!

Sweet eyes by fruitless watching wronged, Yet turning ever towards the lands

Where war's red hosts are thronged.

She shudders when they tell the tale,
Of some great battle lost and won!
Her sweet child-face grows old and pale,
Her heart falls like a stone!

She sees no conquering flag unfurled,
She hears no victory's brazen roar,
But a dear face, which was her world, -
Perchance she 'll kiss no more!

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