FROM "THE MYRTLE AND THE VINE." SINCE our foes to invade us have long been preparing, "T is clear they consider we've something worth sharing, And for that mean to visit our shore ; It behooves us, however, with spirit to meet 'em, And though 't will be nothing uncommon to beat 'em, We must try how they 'll take it once more: So fill, fill your glasses, be this the toast given, — Here's England forever, the land, boys, we live in! The Genius of our clime From his pine-embattled steep While the Tritons of the deep With their conchs the kindred league shall proclaim. Then let the world combine, - Though ages long have past Since our Fathers left their home, O'er untravelled seas to roam, Yet lives the blood of England in our veins! While the language free and bold How the vault of heaven rung When Satan, blasted, fell with his host; While the manners, while the arts, On that throne where once Alfred in glory was Our joint communion breaking with the Sun: Yet still from either beach A world is thy realm; for a world be thy laws, Fair Science her gates to thy sons shall unbar, And light up a smile on the aspect of woe. Thy fleets to all regions thy power shall display, As the dayspring unbounded thy splendor shall flow, And earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow, While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurled, Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world. Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o'erspread, From war's dread confusion, I pensively strayed,— Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along, TIMOTHY DWIGHT. SONG OF MARION'S MEN. OUR band is few, but true and tried, As seamen know the sea; WHEN Freedom, from her mountain height, Majestic monarch of the cloud! Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, And see the lightning lances driven, Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,' And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. Flag of the seas! on ocean wave Flag of the free heart's hope and home, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us? JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming! And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On that shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses ? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream; 'Tis the star-spangled banner! O, long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country should leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! O, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved homes and the war's desolation ! Blest with victory and peace, may the heavenrescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto, "In God is our trust And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! FRANCIS SCOTT KEY. BARBARA FRIETCHIE. UP from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, Apple and peach tree fruited deep, Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde; On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched over the mountain wall,— Over the mountains, winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind; the sun Of noon looked down, and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bravest of all in Frederick town, Up the street came the rebel tread, Under his slouched hat left and right "Halt!"- the dust-brown ranks stood fast; "Fire! out blazed the rifle-blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash; It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; She leaned far out on the window-sill, "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, The nobler nature within him stirred All day long through Frederick street |