Take down now your flaunting banner; for a scout

comes breathless and pale,

With the terror of death upon him; of failure is all

his tale:

"They have fled while the flag waved o'er them,

they've turned to the foe their back;

They are scattered, pursued, and slaughtered; the fields are all rout and wrack."

Pass hence then, the friends I gathered, a goodly

company,

All ye that have manhood in you, go, perish for

Liberty!

But I and the babes God gave me will wait with uplifted hearts,

With the firm smile ready to kindle, and the will to perform our parts.

When the last true heart lies bloodless, when the

fierce and the false have won,

I'll press in turn to my bosom each daughter and

either son:

Bid them loose the flag from its bearings, and we'll lay

us down to rest

With the glory of home about us, and its freedom locked in our breast.

HARVARD STUDENT'S SONG.

REMEMBER ye the fateful gun that sounded

To Sumter's walls from Charleston's treacherous

shore?

Remember ye how hearts indignant bounded
When our first dead came back from Baltimore?
The banner fell that every breeze had flattered,
The hum of thrift was hushed with sudden woe;
We raised anew the emblems shamed and shattered,
And turned a front resolved to meet the foe.

Remember ye how, out of boyhood leaping,
Our gallant mates stood ready for the fray,
As new-fledged eaglets rise, with sudden sweeping,
And meet unscared the dazzling front of day?
Our classic toil became inglorious leisure,

We praised the calm Horatian ode no more,
But answered back with song the martial measure,

That held its throb above the cannon's roar.

Remember ye the pageants dim and solemn,

Where Love and Grief have borne the funeral pall?
The joyless marching of the mustered column,

With arms reversed, to Him who conquers all?
Oh! give them back, thou bloody breast of Treason,
They were our own, the darlings of our hearts:
They come benumbed and frosted out of season,

With whom the summer of our youth departs.

Look back no more! our time has come, my brothers!
In Fate's high roll our names are written too:
We fill the mournful gaps left bare by others,
The ranks where Fear has never broken through.
Look, ancient Walls, upon our stern election!
Keep, Echoes dear, remembrance of our breath!
And gentle eyes, and hearts of pure affection,
Light us resolved to victory or death!

ONE AND MANY.

HE is dead with whom we spake ;

Ere the latest war cloud brake,

Vanished, with the smile he wore
When we parted evermore.

As a star that leaves its place
Fills the heavens with passing grace,
Did he set our hearts aglow,

Loving loath to see him go.

Where he was, a shadow rests,
Veiling void in aching breasts:
He but heeds the immortal rule,
Lifted to the Beautiful!