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Ay, let them rail, those haughty ones, A world is thy realm ; for a world be thy laws, While safe thou dwellest with thy sons. Enlarged as thine empire, and just as thy cause ; They do not know how loved thou art, On Freedom's broad basis that empire shall rise, How many a fond and fearless heart

Extend with the main, and dissolve with the skies. Would rise to throw Its life between thee and the foe.

Fair Science her gates to thy sons shall unbar,

And the east see thy morn hide the beams of herstar, They know not, in their hate and pride, New bards and new sages unrivalled shall soar What virtues with thy children bide, To fame unextinguished when time is no more ; How true, how good, thy graceful maids To thee, the last refuge of virtue designed, Make bright, like flowers, the valley shades; Shall fly from all nations the best of mankind; What generous men

Here gratefulto heaven, with transport shall bring Spring, like thine oaks, by hill and glen ; Their incense, more fragrant than odors of spring. What cordial welcomes greet the guest Nor less shall thy fair ones to glory ascend, By thy lone rivers of the west ;

And genius and beauty in harmony blend ; How faith is kept, and truth revered, The graces of form shall awake pure desire, And man is loved, and God is feared,

And the charms of the soul ever cherish the fire ; In woodland homes,

Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refined, And where the ocean border foams.

And virtue's bright image, enstamped on the mind,

With peace and soft rapture shall teach life to There's freedom at thy gates, and rest

glow, For earth's down-trodden and opprest,

And light up a smile on the aspect of woe. A shelter for the hunted head, For the starved laborer toil and bread. Thy fleets to all regions thy power shall display, Power, at thy bounds,

The nations admire, and the ocean obey ; Stops, and calls back his bafled hounds. Each shore to thy glory its tribute unfold,

And the east and the south yield their spices and O fair young mother ! on thy brow

gold. Shall sit a nobler grace than now.

As the dayspring unbounded thy splendor shall Deep in the brightness of thy skies,

flow, The thronging years in glory rise,

And earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow, And, as they fleet,

While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurled, Drop strength and riches at thy feet.

Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the

world. Thine eye, with every coming hour, Shall brighten, and thy form shall tower ;

Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o'erAnd when thy sisters, elder born,

spread, Would brand thy name with words of scorn, From war's dread confusion, I pensively strayed, Before thine eye

The gloom from the face of fair heaven retired ; Upon their lips the taunt shall die.

The winds ceased to murmur, the thunders

expired ; Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along,

And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung: COLUMBIA

Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,

The queen of the world, and the child of the skies."
COLUMBIA, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world, and child of the skies !
Thy genius commands thee ; with rapture behold,
While ages on ages thy splendors unfold.

SONG OF MARION'S MEN.
Thy reign is the last and the noblest of time,
Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime;

Our band is few, but true and tried, Letthecrimes of the east ne'erencrimson thy name,

Our leader frank and bold; Be freedom and science and virtue thy fame.

The British soldier trembles

When Marion's name is told. To conquest and slaughter let Europe aspire ;

Our fortress is the good greenwood, Whelm nations in blood, and wrap cities in fire ;

Our tent the cypress-tree; Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend,

We know the forest round us, And triumph pursue them, and glory attend.

As seamen know the sea ;

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

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Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green

sodded acres

Of the plain ; And louder, louder, louder, cracked the black

gunpowder, Cracking amain !

When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven, Child of the Sun ! to thee 't is given

To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle-stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,

The harbingers of victory !

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Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high !
When speaks the signal-trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on,
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn
To where thy sky-born glories burn,
And, as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance.
And when the cannon-mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud,
And gory sabres rise and fall
Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall,
Then shall thy meteor glances glow,

And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below

That lovely messenger of death.

Then the old-fashioned colonel
Galloped through the white infernal

Powder-cloud ;
And his broad sword was swinging,
And his brazen throat was ringing

Trumpet loud.
Then the blue

Bullets flew,
And the trooper-jackets redden at the touch of

the leaden

Rifle-breath; And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared the iron

six-pounder, Hurling death!

Flag of the seas ! on ocean wave
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave ;
When death, careering on the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
Each dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly
In triumph o'er his closing eye.

GUY HUMPHREY MCMASTER.

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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, pple and peach tree fruited dee

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, Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic-window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced the old flag met his sight.

:

"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, And shook it forth with a royal will.

"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word: "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.

All day long through Frederick street Sounded the tread of marching feet;

All day long that free flag tost Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well ;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night.

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her ! and let tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave,
Flag of freedom and union, wave !
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederiek town!

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

0, what a shout there went From the black regiment !

'Charge !” Trump and drum awoke ; Onward the bondmen broke; Bayonet and sabre-stroke Vainly opposed their rush. Through the wild battle's crush, With but one thought aflush, Driving their lords like chaff, In the guns' mouths they laugh ; Or at the slippery brands Leaping with open hands, Down they tear man and horse, Down in their awful course ; Trampling with bloody heel Over the crashing steel, All their eyes forward bent, Rushed the black regiment. “Freedom !” their battle-cry, “Freedom! or leave to die!”. Ah ! and they meant the word, Not as with us 't is heard, Not a mere party shout; They gave their spirits out, Trusted the end to God, And on the

gory

sod
Rolled in triumphant blood
Glad to strike one free blow,
Whether for weal or woe ;
Glad to breathe one free breath,
Though on the lips of death;
Praying, -- alas ! in vain !
That they might fall again,
So they could once more see
That burst to liberty !
This was what “freedom” lent
To the black regiment.
Hundreds on hundreds fell;
But they are resting well ;
Scourges and shackles strong
Never shall do them wrong.
0, to the living few,
Soldiers, be just and true :
Hail them as comrades tried ;
Fight with them side by side ;
Never, in field or tent,
Scorn the black regiment !

THE BLACK REGIMENT.

(May 27, 1863.] DARK as the clouds of even, Ranked in the western heaven, Waiting the breath that lifts All the dead mass, and drifts Tempest and falling brand Over a ruined land, So still and orderly, Arm to arm, knee to knee, Waiting the great event, Stands the black regiment.

Down the long dusky line
Teeth gleam and eyeballs shine ;
And the bright bayonet,
Bristling and firmly set,
Flashed with a purpose grand,
Long ere the sharp command
Of the fierce rolling drum
Told them their time had come,
Told them what work was sent
For the black regiment.

GEORGE HENRY BOKER,

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