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OF

It's the death-grip that's a coming, - they will

try the works once more."

With brazen trumpets blaring, the flames behind

them glaring, The deadly wall before them, in close array they

come; Still onward, upward toiling, like a dragon's fold

uncoiling, 120 Like the rattlesnake's shrill warning the reverber

ating drum!

Over heaps all torn and gory — shall I tell the

fearful story, How they surged above the breastwork, as a sea

breaks over a deck; How, driven, yet scarce defeated, our worn-out

men retreated, With their powder-horns all emptied, like the

swimmers from a wreck ?

125 It has all been told and painted ; as for me, they

say I fainted, And the wooden-legged old Corporal stumped with

me down the stair: When I woke from dreams affrighted the evening

lamps were lighted, On the floor a youth was lying; his bleeding breast

was bare.

And I heard through all the flurry, • Send for

WARREN! hurry! hurry! 129. Dr. Joseph Warren, of equal note at the time as a medica. man and a patriot. He was a volunteer in the battle, and fell there, the most serious loss on the American side.

130 Tell him here's a soldier bleeding, and he 'll come

and dress his wound!” Ah, we knew not till the morrow told its tale of

death and sorrow, How the starlight found him stiffened on the dark

and bloody ground.

Who the youth was, what his name was, where the

place from which he came was, Who had brought him from the battle, and had

left him at our door, 135 He could not speak to tell us; but 't was one of our

brave fellows, As the homespun plainly showed us which the

dying soldier wore.

For they all thought he was dying, as they gathered

round him crying, And they said, “Oh, how they 'll miss him!” and,

“ What will his mother do?” Then, his eyelids just unclosing like a child's that

has been dozing, 140 He faintly murmured, “ Mother!” and I

saw his eyes were blue.

Why, grandma, how you're winking!”- Ah,

my child, it sets me thinking Of a story not like this one. Well, he somehow

lived along; So we came to know each other, and I nursed him

like a – mother, Till at last he stood before me, tall, and rosy

cheeked, and strong.

145 And we sometimes walked together in the pleasant

summer weather;

66

- Please to tell us what his name was? - Just

your own, my little dear, There's his picture Copley painted : we became

so well acquainted, That - in short, that's why I'm grandma, and

you children all are here!"

II.

THE SCHOOL-BOY.

[PHILLIPS ACADEMY at Andover, Massachusetts, was founded in 1778, by Judge Samuel Phillips, assisted by two uncles, who also established nearly at the time Phillips Exeter Academy, at Exeter, New Hampshire. The centennial anniversary of the founding of Phillips Academy was celebrated at Andover, in June, 1878, and Dr. Holmes, who had been a boy in the school more than fifty years before, read the following poem.]

These hallowed precincts, long to memory dear, Smile with fresh welcome as our feet draw near; With softer gales the opening leaves are fanned, With fairer hues the kindling flowers expand,

147. John Singleton Copley was a portrait painter of celebrity whu was born in America in 1737 and painted many famous portraits, which hang in private and public galleries in Boston and vicinity chiefly. He lived in England the latter half of his life, dying there in 1815.

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