TO THE UNITED STATES.

Is it true the star-banner, so dear to the sight

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Of all freemen, may fall by a factionist's blow, That banner I've borne through the midst of the fight,

Side by side with my sons, as we charged on the foe?

I would not, I will not, I can not believe it!

Oh! rally around it, and stand by the staff! Or the children of men will have reason to grieve it,

And the tyrants of men will exultingly laugh.

Ay, sure would the kings and the princes of earth Greet the fall of thy flag with a joyous "hurrah!"

Even now, scarce suppressing demoniac mirth, They would hail thy decadence with fiendish Ha, ha!"

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And he who would help them to win their foul

game,

Whether Northern or Southern,

which claims him,

Be a brand on his brow, and a blight on his fame,

And scorn on the lip of the humblest who name

him!

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BATTLE-ANTHEM.

Be palsied the arm that draws sword fratricidal! May the steel of the traitor be broken in two! May his maiden betrothed, on the morn of his bridal,

Prove faithless to him as he has been to you!

United, no power 'neath heaven can shake thee, No purple-robed despot e'er smile on thy shame; Asunder, like reeds they will bruise thee and break thee,

And waste thee as flax in the pitiless flame.

Woe, woe to the world, if this fatal division Should ever arise in the ranks of the free; Oh, brother! avoid, then, the fearful collision, And millions unborn will sing praises to thee!

BATTLE-ANTHEM.

BY JOHN NEAL.

UP, Christian Warrior, up! I hear

The trumpet of the North
Sounding the charge!

Fathers and Sons! to horse!

Fling the Old Standard forth,

Blazing and large !

BATTLE-ANTHEM.

And now I hear the heavy tramp
Of nations on the march,

Silent as death!

A slowly gathering host,

Like clouds o'er yonder arch,
Holding their breath!

Our great blue sky is overcast;
And stars are dropping out,
Through smoke and flame!
Hailstones and coals of fire!
Now comes the battle-shout;
Jehovah's name!

And now the rebel pomp! To prayer!
Look to your stirrups, men!
Yonder rides Death!

Now with a whirlwind-sweep!
Empty their saddles when

Hot comes their breath!

As through the midnight forest tears
With trumpeting and fire

A thunder-blast;

So, Reapers! tear your way Through yonder camp, until you hear

"It is enough! Put up thy sword!

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BOY BRITTAN.

O, Angel of the Lord!
My wrath is past!"

BOY BRITTAN.

BY FORCEYTHE WILLSON.

I.

BOY Brittan-only a lad — a fair-haired boy —

sixteen,

In his uniform!

Into the storm-into the roaring jaws of grim Fort Henry

Boldly bears the Federal flotilla

Into the battle-storm!

II.

Boy Brittan is Master's Mate aboard of the Essex
There he stands buoyant and eager-eyed,
By the brave Captain's side;

Ready to do and dare—aye, aye sir! always ready

In his country's uniform!

Boom! Boom! and now the flag-boat sweeps, and now the Essex,

Into the battle storm!

BOY BRITTAN.

III.

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Boom! Boom! till River and Fort and Field are

overclouded

By battle's breath; then from the Fort a gleam And a crashing gun, and the Essex is wrapt and shrouded

In a scalding cloud of steam!

IV.

But victory! victory!

Unto God all praise be ever rendered,
Unto God all praise and glory be!
See, Boy Brittan; see, Boy, see!

They strike! Hurrah! the Fort has just surrendered!

Shout! Shout! my Boy, my warrior Boy! And wave your cap and clap your hands for joy! Cheer answer cheer and bear the cheer about Hurrah! Hurrah! for the fiery Fort is ours; And "Victory!" "Victory!" "Victory!" Is the shout.

for the fiery Fort, and the Field, and the day are ours

The day is ours thanks to the brave endeavor Of heroes, Boy, like thee!

The day is ours

the day is ours!

Glory and deathless love to all who shared with thee,