The American Union Speaker Part 62

For Duty still its folds shall fly; For Honor still its glories burn, Where Truth, Religion, Valor, guard The patriot's sword and martyr's urn.

No tyrant's impious step is ours; No l.u.s.t of power on nations rolled: Our Flag--for friends, a starry sky; For traitors, storm in every fold.

O thus we'll keep our Nation's life, Nor fear the bolt by despots hurled; The blood of all the world is here, And they who strike us strike the world!

G.o.d of the Free! our Nation bless In its strong manhood as its birth; And make its life a Star of Hope For all the struggling of the Earth.

Then shout beside thine Oak, O North!

O South! wave answer with thy Palm; And in our Union's heritage Together sing the Nation's Psalm!

W. R. Wallace.

CCCx.x.xVII.

THE FISHERMAN OF BEAUFORT.

The tide comes up, and the tide goes down, And still the fisherman's boat, At early dawn and at evening shade, Is ever and ever afloat: His net goes down, and his net comes up, And we hear his song of glee: "De fishes dey hates de ole slave nets, But comes to de nets of de free."

The tide comes up, and the tide goes down, And the oysterman below Is picking away, in the slimy sands, In the sands ob de long ago.

But now if an empty hand he bears, He shudders no more with fear, There's no stretching-board for the aching bones, And no lash of the overseer.

The tide comes up, and the tide goes down, And ever I hear a song, As the moaning winds, through the moss-hung oaks, Sweep surging ever along: "O ma.s.sa white man! help de slave, And de wife and chillen too; Eber dey'll work, wid de hard worn hand Ef ell gib 'em de work to do."

The tide comes up, and the tide goes go down, But it bides no tyrant's word, As it chants unceasing the anthem grand, Of its Freedom to the Lord.

The fisherman floating on its breast Has caught up the key-note true: "De sea works, ma.s.s, for 't sef and G.o.d, And so must de brack man too."

"Den gib him de work, and gib him de pay, For de chillen and wife him love; And de yam shall grow, and de cotton shall blow, And him nearer, nebber rove; For him love de ole Carlina State, And de ole magnolia-tree: Oh! nebber him trouble de icy Norf, Ef de brack folks am go free."

Mrs. F. D. Gage.

CCCx.x.xVIII.

THE FLOWER OF LIBERTY.

What flower is this that greets the morn, Its hues from heaven so freshly born?

With burning star and flaming band It kindles all the sunset land;-- O, tell us what its name may be!

Is this the Flower of Liberty?

It is the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty!

In savage Nature's far abode Its tender seed our fathers sowed; The storm-winds rocked its swelling bud, Its opening leaves were streaked with blood, Till, lo! earth's tyrants shook to see The full-blown Flower of Liberty!

Then hail the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty!

Behold its streaming rays unite One mingling flood of braided light,-- The red that fires the Southern rose, With spotless white from Northern snows, And, spangled o'er its azure, see The sister Stars of Liberty!

Then hail the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty!

The blades of heroes fence it round; Where'er it springs is holy ground; From tower and dome its glories spread; It waves where lonely sentries tread; It makes the land as ocean free, And plants an empire on the sea!

Then hail the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty!

Thy sacred leaves, fair Freedom's flower, Shall ever float on dome and tower, To all their heavenly colors true, In blackening frost or crimson dew,-- And G.o.d love us as we love thee, Thrice holy Flower of Liberty!

Then hail the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty!

O. W. Holmes.

CCCx.x.xIX.

AN APPEAL.

Listen, young heroes! your country is calling!

Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true!

Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling, Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!

You whom the fathers made free and defended, Stain not the scroll that emblazons their fame!

Yon whose fair heritage spotless descended, Leave not your children a birthright of shame!

Stay not for questions while Freedom stands gasping!

Wait not till Honor lies wrapped in his pall!

Brief the lips' meeting be, swift the hands' clasping,-- "Off for the Wars!" is enough for them all.

Break from the arms that would fondly caress you!

Hark! 't is the bugle-blast, sabres are drawn!

Mothers shall pray for you, fathers shall bless you, Maidens shall weep for you when you are gone!

Never or now! cries the blood of a nation, Poured on the turf where the red rose should bloom; Now is the day and the hour of salvation,-- Never or now! peals the trumpet of doom!

Never or now! roars the hoa.r.s.e-throated cannon Through the black canopy blotting the skies; Never or now! flaps the sh.e.l.l-blasted pennon O'er the deep ooze where the c.u.mberland lies!

From the foul dens where our brothers are dying, Aliens and foes in the land of their birth,-- From the rank swamps where our martyrs are lying Pleading in vain for a handful of earth,--

From the hot plains where they perish outnumbered, Furrowed and ridged by the battle-field's plough, Comes the loud summons; too long you have slumbered, Hear the last Angel-trump--Never or Now!

O. W. Holmes.

CCCXL.

THE LAST CHARGE.

Now men of the North! will you join in the strife For country, for freedom, for honor, for life?

The giant grows blind in his fury and spite,-- One blow on his forehead will settle the fight!

Flash full in his eyes the blue lightning of steel, And stun him with cannon-bolts peal upon peal!

Mount, troopers, and follow your game to its lair, As the hound tracks the wolf and the beagle the hare!

Blow, trumpets, your summons, till sluggards awake!

Beat, drums, till the roofs of the fainthearted shake!

Yet, yet, ere the signet is stamped on the scroll, Their names may be traced on the blood-sprinkled roll!

Trust not the false herald that painted your shield: True honor to-day must be sought on the field!

Her scutcheon shows white with a blazon of red,-- The life-drops of crimson for liberty shed!