And the music that lulls him night and morn Is the hum-hum-hum of the shoddy-mill.

Clashing cylinders, whizzing wheels,

Rend and ravel and tear and pick;

What can resist these hooks of steel,
Sharp as the claws of the ancient Nick?
Cast-off mantle of millionaire,

Pestilent vagrant's vesture chill,
Rags of miser or beggar bare,

All are "grist" for the shoddy-mill.

Worthless waste and worn-out wool,
Flung together a spacious sham!
With just enough of the "fleece

to pull
Over the eyes of poor Uncle Sam.
Cunningly twisted through web and woof,
Not "shirt of Nessus" such power to kill;
Look, how the prints of his hideous hoof
Track the fiend of the shoddy-mill.

A soldier lies on the frozen ground,
While crack his joints with aches and ails;
A "shoddy" blanket wraps him round,
His "shoddy" garments the wind assails.
His coat is "shoddy," well "stuffed” with “flocks;"
He dreams of the flocks on his native hill;

His feverish sense the demon mocks-
The demon that drives the shoddy-mill.

Ay! pierce his tissues with shooting pains,
Tear the muscles, and rend the bone,
Fire with frenzy the heart and brain;
Old Rough-Shoddy, your work is done:
Never again shall the bugle blast

Waken the sleeper that lies so still;
His dream of home and glory past;
Fatal's the "work" of the shoddy-mill.

Struck by "shoddy" and not by "shells,"
And not by shot, our brave ones fall;
Greed of gold the story tells,

Drop the mantle and spread the pall.
Out on the vampires! out on those

Who of our life-blood take their fill! No meaner "traitor" the nation knows

Than the greedy ghoul of the shoddy-mill!

THE LOYAL DEMOCRAT.

BY A. J. H. DUGANNE.

MOUTH not to me your Union rant,
Nor gloze mine ears with loyal cant!
Who stands this day in freedom's van,
He only is my Union man!

Who tramples Slavery's Gesler hat,
He is my loyal Democrat !

With whips, engirt by chains, too long
We strove to make our Fasces strong;
When rebel hands those fasces rend,
Must we with whips and chains still mend?
If "Democrats" can stoop to that,

God help me! I'm no Democrat!

Thank heaven! the lines are drawn this hour
"Twixt manly Right and despot Power;
Who scowls in Freedom's pathway now
Bears "tyrant" stamped upon his brow;
Who skulks aloof or shirks his part
Hath "slave" imprinted in his heart.

In vain of "Equal Rights" ye prate,
Who fawn like dogs at Slavery's gate,
Beyond the slave each slave-whip smites,
And codes for blacks are laws for whites;
The chains that negro limbs encoil
Reach and enslave each child of toil!

O Northern men! when will ye learn
"Tis labor that these tyrants spurn?
'Tis not the blood or skin they brand,
But every poor man's toil-worn hand;
And ye who serve them-knowing this--
Deserve the slave-lash that ye kiss !

While Northern blood remembrance craves
From twice ten thousand Southern graves,
Shall freeborn hearts-beneath the turf-
Lie always crushed by tramp of serf,
And pilgrims, at those graves, some day,
By Slavery's hounds be driven away?

The green grass in the churchyard waves—
The good corn grows o'er battle-graves;
But, oh! from crimson seeds now sown,
What crops what harvest-shall be grown?

On Shiloh's plain-on Roanoke's sodWhat fruits shall spring from blood, O God?

Spring-time is here! The past now sleeps—
The present sows the future reaps!
Who plants good seed in Freedom's span
He only is my Union man!

Who treads the weeds of Slavery flat,
He is my loyal Democrat !

May 23, 1862.

YE BALLADE OF MANS. LOVELL.

MANS.

ANS. LOVELL he mounted his general's steed,

All on the New-Orleans levee;

And he heard the guns of old Cockee But-ler,
A-sounding all over the sea-sea—sea—
A-sounding all over the sea!

"Oh! what shall I do ?" Mans. Lovell he said"Oh! what shall I do ?" said he;