By our past, so bright renowned,
On, Northmen, on!

By our future, starry-crowned,
On, Northmen, on!

By the South, deceived, misled.
By our hundred thousand dead,
Who for North and South have bled,

On, Northmen, on!

N. P. WILLIS.

LINT AND BANDAGE.

BEFORE THE BATTLE OF SNICKER'S GAP, BLUE RIDGE,
NOVEMBER 3D, '62.

Our from our circle of home joys
Nobly and bravely they go,
Husbands, and brothers, and lovers,
Onward to meet the dread foe;
Though the heart throbs with wild anguish,

Bidding them haste to the fight,

Yet we pray God in his mercy

Ever to guide them right.

While 'mid the thick coming dangers,

Now self-denying they roam,

We must not idly await them,

While they now shield each dear home;

Think, when the battle is over,

Wounded and bleeding they lie,

Bandage and lint we must send them,
Or the brave heroes must die.

O'er the old vestment we linger
Gleaning a balm for the wound,

Breathing a prayer for their safety,
There 'mid the cannon's deep sound:
Busily ply we the needle.

Many a garment prepare,

Many a keepsake so useful,

Send we to lov'd ones still there.

Come with hands ready to aid us,
Come with a gift for their need,
Send them a warm word of cheering,
From the heart bid them "God speed;"
Yes! we must fly to the rescue,

Aid now the dear fallen brave,
Rescue with care kind and loving,
Them from a deeply mourned grave.

JOSEPHINE FURMAN.

ON, ON VALIANT SOLDIERS.

AT THE BATTLE OF NASHVILLE, TENN.,

NOVEMBER 5TH, '62.

ON, ON valiant soldiers! the tocsin is sounding Arouse ye to action, brave men of the North! From hill, vale and dell war's alarum resounding, Bids us rally to arms and for battle go forth; Arm, arm for the conflict! equip for the fight! And battle for country, for home and for right.

On, on valiant soldiers! win unfading glory,

And forever our high, holy purpose shall be To attest the grand truth of the oft cited story, That our own hallowed soil is "the land of the free." Then arm for the conflict, and fearlessly smite, Ay, battle for country, for home and for right. On, on valiant soldiers! and when future ages Would know where the mantle of honor should fall, Lo! the records inscribed upon history's pages,

Shall point to Columbia's sons-noblest of all, Then arm for the conflict! go forth in God's might, And battle for country for home and for right.

AMELIA.

MUSIC ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE.

AT THE BATTLE OF HARTSVILLE, TENN.,

DECEMBER., 7, '62.

MUSIC on the field of battle-
Martial music! how it thrills;
How it fires the noble soldier,
And his soul with valor fills!
Music on the field of battle,

When the fight is raging hot;
When the cannons loudly rattle-
When it storms with grape and shot !
How it makes of cowards-heroes,
Makes all braves to falter not,
As on we march to death or glory,
'Mid a hail of grape and shot!

JAMES A. C. O'CONNOR.

VICTORY!

BATTLE OF CRAWFORD'S PRAIRIE, ARK.,

DECEMBER 7TH, '62.

THERE is a sound of triumph in the air

From battle-fields where blood was poured like wine,
And human lives were quenched with little care,
And ghastly carnage swept along the line;

A sound of triumph,-Victory is ours!
No more the sullen war cloud darkly lowers.

By hero hands the victory is won;

A courage, God-like in its strength, has nerved Each lion heart; redly arose the sun

In brightness, and in splendor set, nor swerved That gallant band until the field was gained, And they with glory crowned, though battle stained.

Honor to all who battled on that field

To these the living, and to those the dead, To one the highest honors we may yield,

But on the other these cannot be shed;

They have a brighter crown than earth can give,
And in our memory their bright deeds live.

The Nation's heart once more beats glad and high,
On every hand her song of triumph swells;
Her Eagle leaving his own native sky,

With Victory beside our banner dwells,

Our Father's God! we thank Thee that our ears Have heard Thy voice, for it hath quelled our fears!

MATTIE WINFIELD.

TO-MORROW.

SECOND BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG, .

DECEMBER 13TH '62.

A SUMMER evening, calm and beautiful;
A forest margin and deep solitude;

The pale moon shining 'mid the floating clouds,
Which ever and anon obscures her face;
A sentry pacing 'mid the shadows deep,
His musket gleaming in the flitting rays

Which now and then pierce thro' the leafy boughs.
Here is a scene of quietness and peace.
Which may be broken ere another night
By all the horrors, din and roar of war!
Thro' many a scene of sanguinary strife
Thus far the soldier hath in safety passed;
And as he treads alone his silent beat,
And thinks of those dear ones, far, far away,
In hopeful accent hear him fondly breathe
The simple word-To-morrow!"

True, the man

Is at his post to watch the wary foe :
But ah! the heart is in that Northern home,
With those he loves far better than all else,

Save the dear land for which he left them all
To give his life, if need be, for the cause
Of Liberty and Truth!