OH! SENTRY! TELL ME OF THE NIGHT. AT THE DESTRUCTION OF WARRINGTON, FLA., NOVEMBER 23d, '61. Oн, sentry, tell me of the night, How dawns the slow approaching day? Amid the low'ring clouds on high? Have courage, comrade! courage, man- A faint streak in the north'ren sky; I hear the picket's watchful cry. Yes, sentry, 'tis the cry that woke The north'ren legions from their sleep, Were thus arrayed in mortal fray; "Have courage, comrade: day is nigh, A mother's tender care must need: A Constellation of bright Stars !" "I thank you, sentry, for those words, For eased would be my dying pain, Could I but see the light of day Or those bright Stars shine once again. Except the rebel foe's watch fire, "Have courage, comrade, look again ; The light, which there your dim'd eyes greet, Proceeds man, from the burning stores Of our base foe in wild retreat! The Constellation of bright Stars, Which 'mid the clouds are shining thro', Are those upon the Union Flag, As our brave boys the foe pursue!" Joy then is mine!—the day is ours! And rescued by God's hand divine! And our bright "Stars" Hurray!-Hurray!" With that last cry of heart-felt joy To mingle never more in strife! .J. HENRY HAYWARD: THE BATTLE ARMOR. BEFORE THE BATTLE AT LANCASTER, MO., NOVEMBER 24тн, '61. THERE was deep and wond'rous meaning Telling of the hero's grave. There he stood, the swart and earnest, For the knights of many lands; And the high, heroic music, Mingling with the hammer's peal, Gave to Eric's armor virtue Never known before to steel. Over all shone Eric's helmets, In the van, like warrior-stars; Dazzling, flashing, his sacred armor On the battle's sounding cars; Helm and haukbert were enchanted In that old and wond'rous timeFor he made his simple smithy Glorious with the gallant rhyme. Let us learn from that grand armor When the trump of Truth is sounding 'Tis the patriot's mighty armor: Forge it, nurse the gallant thought- Shall triumphant, bear us over WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE. I DREAMED MY BOY WAS HOME AGAIN. SECOND FIGHT AT VIENNA, VA., NOVEMBER 26TH, '61. LONELY, weary, broken hearted, Tears were changed to loud rejoicing, But the dream is past: and with it Cheerful thoughts of joy have vanished, I must still in sorrow mourn. Soon may peace, with all its blessings, Our unhappy land reclaim; Then my tears will cease her flowing, And my boy be home again! CHARLES CARROLL SAWYER. |