The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes Part 67

G.o.d of all Nations! Sovereign Lord In thy dread name we draw the sword, We lift the starry flag on high That fills with light our stormy sky.

From treason's rent, from murder's stain, Guard Thou its folds till Peace shall reign,-- Till fort and field, till sh.o.r.e and sea, Join our loud anthem, PRAISE TO THEE!

PARTING HYMN "DUNDEE"

FATHER of Mercies, Heavenly Friend, We seek thy gracious throne; To Thee our faltering prayers ascend, Our fainting hearts are known.

From blasts that chill, from suns that smite, From every plague that harms; In camp and march, in siege and fight, Protect our men-at-arms.

Though from our darkened lives they take What makes our life most dear, We yield them for their country's sake With no relenting tear.

Our blood their flowing veins will shed, Their wounds our b.r.e.a.s.t.s will share; Oh, save us from the woes we dread, Or grant us strength to bear!

Let each unhallowed cause that brings The stern destroyer cease, Thy flaming angel fold his wings, And seraphs whisper Peace!

Thine are the sceptre and the sword, Stretch forth thy mighty hand,-- Reign Thou our kingless nation's Lord, Rule Thou our throneless land!

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 Oh 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!

THE SWEET LITTLE MAN

DEDICATED TO THE STAY-AT-HOME RANGERS

Now, while our soldiers are fighting our battles, Each at his post to do all that he can, Down among rebels and contraband chattels, What are you doing, my sweet little man?

All the brave boys under canvas are sleeping, All of them pressing to march with the van, Far from the home where their sweethearts are weeping; What are you waiting for, sweet little man?

You with the terrible warlike mustaches, Fit for a colonel or chief of a clan, You with the waist made for sword-belts and sashes, Where are your shoulder-straps, sweet little man?

Bring him the b.u.t.tonless garment of woman!

Cover his face lest it freckle and tan; Muster the Ap.r.o.n-String Guards on the Common, That is the corps for the sweet little man!

Give him for escort a file of young misses, Each of them armed with a deadly rattan; They shall defend him from laughter and hisses, Aimed by low boys at the sweet little man.

All the fair maidens about him shall cl.u.s.ter, Pluck the white feathers from bonnet and fan, Make him a plume like a turkey-wing duster,-- That is the crest for the sweet little man!

Oh, but the Ap.r.o.n-String Guards are the fellows Drilling each day since our troubles began,-- "Handle your walking-sticks!" "Shoulder umbrellas!"

That is the style for the sweet little man!

Have we a nation to save? In the first place Saving ourselves is the sensible plan,-- Surely the spot where there's shooting's the worst place Where I can stand, says the sweet little man.

Catch me confiding my person with strangers!

Think how the cowardly Bull-Runners ran!

In the brigade of the Stay-at-Home Rangers Marches my corps, says the sweet little man.

Such was the stuff of the Malakoff-takers, Such were the soldiers that scaled the Redan; Truculent housemaids and bloodthirsty Quakers, Brave not the wrath of the sweet little man!

Yield him the sidewalk, ye nursery maidens!

_Sauve qui peut_! Bridget, and right about! Ann;-- Fierce as a shark in a school of menhadens, See him advancing, the sweet little man!

When the red flails of the battle-field's threshers Beat out the continent's wheat from its bran, While the wind scatters the chaffy seceshers, What will become of our sweet little man?

When the brown soldiers come back from the borders, How will he look while his features they scan?

How will he feel when he gets marching orders, Signed by his lady love? sweet little man!

Fear not for him, though the rebels expect him,-- Life is too precious to shorten its span; Woman her broomstick shall raise to protect him, Will she not fight for the sweet little man?

Now then, nine cheers for the Stay-at-Home Ranger!

Blow the great fish-horn and beat the big pan!

First in the field that is farthest from danger, Take your white-feather plume, sweet little man!

UNION AND LIBERTY

FLAG of the heroes who left us their glory, Borne through their battle-fields' thunder and flame, Blazoned in song and illumined in story, Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame!

Up with our banner bright, Sprinkled with starry light, Spread its fair emblems from mountain to sh.o.r.e, While through the sounding sky Loud rings the Nation's cry,-- UNION AND LIBERTY! ONE EVERMORE!