SHERMAN'S MARCII. She scarcely her impatience could control. 261 Upon her lord: "Why, are you not yet ready? A. M. W. SHERMAN'S MARCH. BY A SOLDIER. THEIR lips are still as the lips of the dead, Ten thousand more! and still they come With cannon and caissons, and flags unfurled, Rub-a-dub-dub! rub-a-dub-dub! The foe is intrenched on the frowning hill, Rub-a-dub-dub! rub-a-dub-dub! "By regiment! Forward into line!" Then sabres and guns and bayonets shine. Oh ye who feel your fate at last Repeat the old prayer as your hearts beat fast Oh ye who 've waited and prayed so long O Death! what a charge that carried the hill! Harper's Weekly. THE CRAVEN. FROM AN UNPUBLISHED POEM BY ALFRED ANDHISON. ON that mighty day of battle, 'mid the booming and the rattle, Shouts of victory and of anguish, wherewith Malvern's hill did roar, Did a General now quite fameless, who in these lines shall be nameless, Show himself as rather gameless,— gameless on the James's Safely smoking on a gunboat, while the tempest raged on shore, Only this, and nothing more. The Congressional Committee sat within the nation's city, And each Congressman so witty did the General implore: “Tell us if thou at that battle, 'mid the booming and the rattle, Wert on a gunboat or in saddle, while the tempest raged ashore?" THE HOUR OF NORTHERN VICTORY. 263 Answered he: "I don't remember, - might have been." What more? Only this, and nothing more. "By the truth which is eternal, by the lies that are diurnal, By our Abraham paternal, General, we thee implore, and evil; Give us no more of such drivel. the shore." Tell us, wert thou on "Don't remember, — might have been;" thus spoke ho o'er and o'er, Only this, and nothing more. "On that day, sir, had you seen a gunboat of the name Galena, In an anchorage, to screen a man from danger on the shore? Was a man about your inches, smoking with those three French Princes, With a caution which evinces care for such a garde de Were corps? "Don't remem you that man on the gunboat?" Only this, and nothing more. Evening Post. THE HOUR OF NORTHERN VICTORY. BY FANNY KEMBLE. ROLL not a drum, sound not a clarion note Not with Te Deums loud and high Hosannas Thy work is done, God, terrible and just, Who laidst upon our hearts and hands this task; And kneeling, with our foreheads in the dust, We venture Peace to ask. Bleeding and writhing underneath our sword, For our own guilt have we been doomed to smite Dying how bravely, yet how bitterly! Not for the better side, but for the worse, Blindly and madly striving against Thee, For the bad cause where Thou hast set Thy curse. At whose defeat we may not raise our voice, Call back thy dreadful ministers of wrath Who have led on our hosts to this great day; Upon our land, Freedom's inheritance, Turn Thou once more the splendor of Thy face, THE FREEDMAN'S SONG. Where nations serving Thee to light advance, 265 Not our bewildering past prosperity, COTTON AND CORN. COTTON and Corn were mighty kings,* But in the course of time the bubble is bursted, THE FREEDMAN'S SONG. DE Lord, He make us free indeed *The phrase "King Cotton" was brought into use by the following passage in a speech Senator Hammond, of South Carolina, made in the Senate, March 4th, 1858: -"No, you dare not make war upon cotton; no power upon earth dares to make war upon it. Cotton is king: until lately the Bank of England was king; but she tried to put her screws, as usual, the fall before last, on the cotton crop, and was utterly vanquished. The last power has been conquered: who can doubt, that has looked at recent events, that cotton is supreme! |