Chapter 45
The wounds that are dealt By that murderous steel Will never yield case For the surgeon to heal. Hurrah! they are broken-- Hurrah! boys, they fly-- None linger save those Who but linger to die.
Rein up your hot horses And call in your men,-- The trumpet sounds "Rally To color" again. Some saddles are empty, Some comrades are slain, And some noble horses Like stark on the plain, But war's a chance game, boys, And weeping is vain. F. A. Durivage.
CCCXXXV.
THE CUMBERLAND.
At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, On board of the Cumberland sloop-of-war; And at times from the fortress across the bay The alarum of drums swept past, Or a bugle-blast From the camp on the shore.
Then far away to the South uprose A little feather of snow-white smoke, And we knew that the iron ship of our foes Was steadily steering its course To try the force Of our ribs of oak.
Down upon us heavily runs, Silent and sullen, the floating fort; Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns, And leaps the terrible death, With fiery breath, From each open port.
We are not idle, but send her straight Defiance back in a full broadside! As hail rebounds from a roof of slate, Rebounds our heavier hail From each iron scale Of the monster's hide.
"Strike your flag!" the Rebel cries, In his arrogant old plantation strain. "Never!" our gallant Morris replies; "It is better to sink than to yield!" And the whole air pealed With the cheers of our men.
Then, like a kraken huge and black, She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp! Down went the Cumberland all a wrack, With a sudden shudder of death, And the cannon's breath For her dying gasp.
Next morn as the sun rose over the bay, Still floated our flag at the main mast-head, Lord, how beautiful was Thy day! Every waft of the air Was a whisper of prayer, Or a dirge for the dead.
Ho! brave hearts that went down in the seas! Ye are at peace in the troubled stream. Ho! brave land! with hearts like these, Thy flag, that is rent in twain, Shall be one again, And without a seam! H. W. Longfellow.
CCCXXXVI.
UNITED STATES NATIONAL ANTHEM.
God of the Free! upon Thy breath Our Flag is for the Right unrolled, As broad and brave as when its stars First lit the hallowed time of old.
For Duty still its folds shall fly; For Honor still its glories burn, Where Truth, Religion, Valor, guard The patriot's sword and martyr's urn.
No tyrant's impious step is ours; No lust of power on nations rolled: Our Flag--for friends, a starry sky; For traitors, storm in every fold.
O thus we'll keep our Nation's life, Nor fear the bolt by despots hurled; The blood of all the world is here, And they who strike us strike the world!
God of the Free! our Nation bless In its strong manhood as its birth; And make its life a Star of Hope For all the struggling of the Earth.
Then shout beside thine Oak, O North! O South! wave answer with thy Palm; And in our Union's heritage Together sing the Nation's Psalm! W. R. Wallace.
CCCXXXVII.
THE FISHERMAN OF BEAUFORT.
The tide comes up, and the tide goes down, And still the fisherman's boat, At early dawn and at evening shade, Is ever and ever afloat: His net goes down, and his net comes up, And we hear his song of glee: "De fishes dey hates de ole slave nets, But comes to de nets of de free."
The tide comes up, and the tide goes down, And the oysterman below Is picking away, in the slimy sands, In the sands ob de long ago. But now if an empty hand he bears, He shudders no more with fear, There's no stretching-board for the aching bones, And no lash of the overseer.
The tide comes up, and the tide goes down, And ever I hear a song, As the moaning winds, through the moss-hung oaks, Sweep surging ever along: "O massa white man! help de slave, And de wife and chillen too; Eber dey'll work, wid de hard worn hand Ef ell gib 'em de work to do."
The tide comes up, and the tide goes go down, But it bides no tyrant's word, As it chants unceasing the anthem grand, Of its Freedom to the Lord. The fisherman floating on its breast Has caught up the key-note true: "De sea works, mass, for 't sef and God, And so must de brack man too."
"Den gib him de work, and gib him de pay, For de chillen and wife him love; And de yam shall grow, and de cotton shall blow, And him nearer, nebber rove; For him love de ole Carlina State, And de ole magnolia-tree: Oh! nebber him trouble de icy Norf, Ef de brack folks am go free." Mrs. F. D. Gage.
CCCXXXVIII.
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;-- O, 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 God love us as we love thee, Thrice holy Flower of Liberty! Then hail the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty! O. W. Holmes.
CCCXXXIX.
AN APPEAL.
Listen, young heroes! your country is calling! Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true! Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling, Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!
You whom the fathers made free and defended, Stain not the scroll that emblazons their fame! Yon whose fair heritage spotless descended, Leave not your children a birthright of shame!
Stay not for questions while Freedom stands gasping! Wait not till Honor lies wrapped in his pall! Brief the lips' meeting be, swift the hands' clasping,-- "Off for the Wars!" is enough for them all.
Break from the arms that would fondly caress you! Hark! 't is the bugle-blast, sabres are drawn! Mothers shall pray for you, fathers shall bless you, Maidens shall weep for you when you are gone!
Never or now! cries the blood of a nation, Poured on the turf where the red rose should bloom; Now is the day and the hour of salvation,-- Never or now! peals the trumpet of doom!
Never or now! roars the hoarse-throated cannon Through the black canopy blotting the skies; Never or now! flaps the shell-blasted pennon O'er the deep ooze where the Cumberland lies!
From the foul dens where our brothers are dying, Aliens and foes in the land of their birth,-- From the rank swamps where our martyrs are lying Pleading in vain for a handful of earth,--
From the hot plains where they perish outnumbered, Furrowed and ridged by the battle-field's plough, Comes the loud summons; too long you have slumbered, Hear the last Angel-trump--Never or Now! O. W. Holmes.
CCCXL.
THE LAST CHARGE.
Now men of the North! will you join in the strife For country, for freedom, for honor, for life? The giant grows blind in his fury and spite,-- One blow on his forehead will settle the fight!
Flash full in his eyes the blue lightning of steel, And stun him with cannon-bolts peal upon peal! Mount, troopers, and follow your game to its lair, As the hound tracks the wolf and the beagle the hare!
Blow, trumpets, your summons, till sluggards awake! Beat, drums, till the roofs of the fainthearted shake! Yet, yet, ere the signet is stamped on the scroll, Their names may be traced on the blood-sprinkled roll!
Trust not the false herald that painted your shield: True honor to-day must be sought on the field! Her scutcheon shows white with a blazon of red,-- The life-drops of crimson for liberty shed!
The hour is at hand, and the moment draws nigh! The dog-star of treason grows dim in the sky! Shine forth from the battle-cloud, light of the morn, Call back the bright hour when the Nation was born!
The rivers of peace through our valleys shall run, As the glaciers of tyranny melt in the sun; Smite, smite the proud parricide down from his throne,-- His sceptre once broken, the world is our own! O. W. Holmes.
CCCXLI.
VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP UNION.
'Tis midnight: through my troubled dream Loud wails the tempest's cry; Before the gale, with tattered sail, A ship goes plunging by. What name? Where bound? The rocks around Repeat the loud halloo. --The good ship Union, Southward bound: God help her and her crew!
And is the old flag flying still That o'er your fathers flew, With bands of white and rosy light, And field of starry blue? --Ay! look aloft! its folds full oft Have braved the roaring blast, And still shall fly when from thy sky This black typhoon has past!
Speak, pilot of the storm-tost bark! May I thy peril share? --O landsman, these are fearful seas The brave alone may dare! --Nay, ruler of the rebel deep, What matters wind or wave? The rocks that wreck your reeling deck Will leave me nought to save!
O landsman, art thou false or true? What sign hast thou to show? --The crimson stains from loyal veins That hold my heart-blood's flow! --Enough! what more shall honor claim? I know the sacred sign; Above thy head our flag shall spread! Our ocean path be thine!
The bark sails on; the Pilgrim's cape Lies low along her lee, Whose headland crooks its anchor-flukes To lock the shore and sea. No treason here! it cost too dear To win this barren realm! And true and free the hands must be That hold the whaler's helm.
Still on! Manhattan's narrowing bay No Rebel cruiser scars; Her raters feel no pirate's keel That flaunts the fallen stars! But watch the light on yonder height,-- Ay, pilot, have a care! Some lingering cloud in mist may shroud The capes of Delaware!
Say, pilot, what this fort may be, Whose sentinels look down From moated wails that show the sea Their deep embrasures' frown? The Rebel host claims all the coast, But these are friends, we know, Whose footprints spoil the "sacred soil," And this is?--Fort Monroe!
The breakers roar,--how bears the shore? --The traitorous wreckers' hands Have quenched the blaze that poured its rays Along the Hatteras sands. --Ha! say not so! I see its glow! Again the shoals display The beacon light that shines by night, The Union Stars by day!
The good ship flies to milder skies, The wave more gently flows; The softening breeze wafts o'er the seas The breath of Beaufort's rose. What fold is this the sweet winds kiss, Fair-striped and many-starred, Whose shadow palls these orphaned walls, The twins of Beauregard?
What! heard you not Port Royal's doom? How the black war-ships came And turned the Beaufort roses' bloom To redder wreaths of flame? How from Rebellion's broken reed We saw his emblem fall, As soon his curséd poison-weed Shall drop from Sumter's wall?
On! on! Pulaski's iron hail Falls harmless on Tybee! Her topsails feel the freshening gale,-- She strikes the open sea; She rounds the point, she threads the Keys That guard the Land of Flowers, And rides at last where firm and fast Her own Gibraltar towers!
The good ship Union's voyage is o'er, At anchor safe she swings, And loud and clear with cheer on cheer Her joyous welcome rings: Hurrah! Hurrah! it shakes the wave, It thunders on the shore,-- One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, One Nation, evermore! O. W. Holmes.
CCCXLII.
THE STRIPES AND THE STARS.
O Star Spangled Banner! the flag of our pride! Though trampled by traitors and basely defied, Fling out to the glad winds your Red, White, and Blue, For the heart of the North-land is beating for you! And her strong arm is nerving to strike with a will Till the foe and his boastings are humbled and still! Here's welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death--for the Stripes and the Stars!
From prairie, O ploughman! speed boldly away-- There's seed to be sown in God's furrows to-day-- Row landward, lone fisher! stout woodman, come home! Let smith leave his anvil and weaver his loom, And hamlet and city ring loud with the cry, "For God and our country we'll fight till we die! Here's welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death--for the Stripes and the Stars!"
Invincible Banner! the Flag of the Free! O, where treads the foot that would falter for thee? Or the hands to be folded, till triumph is won And the eagle looks proud, as of old, to the sun? Give tears for the parting--a murmur of prayer-- Then Forward! the fame of our standard to share! With welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death--for the Stripes and the Stars!
O God of our Fathers! this Banner must shine Where battle is hottest, in warfare divine! The cannon has thundered, the bugle has blown,-- We fear not the summons--we fight not alone! O, lead us, till wide from the Gulf to the Sea The land shall be sacred to Freedom and Thee! With love, for oppression; with blessing, for scars-- One Country--one Banner--the Stripes and the Stars! E. D. Proctor.
CCCXLIII.
WHO'S READY?
God help us! Who's ready? There's danger before! Who's armed and who's mounted? The foe's at the door! The smoke of his cannon hangs black o'er the plain; His shouts ring exultant while counting our slain; And northward and northward he presses his line,-- Who's ready? O, forward!--for yours and for mine!
No halting, no discord, the moments are Fates; To shame or to glory they open the gates! There's all we hold dearest to lose or to win; The web of the future to-day we must spin; And bid the hours follow with knell or with chime!-- Who's ready? O, forward!--while yet there is time!
Lead armies or councils,--be soldier a-field,-- Alike, so your valor is Liberty's shield! Alike, so you strike when the bugle-notes call, For Country, for Fireside, for Freedom to All! The blows of the boldest will carry the day,-- Who's ready? O, forward!--there's death in delay!
Earth's noblest are praying, at home and o'er sea,-- "God keep the great nation united and free!" Her tyrants watch, eager to leap at our life, If once we should falter or faint in the strife; Our trust is unshaken, though legions assail,-- Who's ready? O, forward! and Right shall prevail.
Who's ready? "All ready!" undaunted we cry; "For Country, for Freedom, we'll fight till we die; No traitor, at midnight, shall pierce us in rest; No alien, at noonday, shall stab us abreast; The God of our Fathers is guiding us still,-- All forward! we're ready,--and conquer we will!" E. D. Proctor.
CCCXLIV.
MITCHELL.
"HUNG BE THE HEAVENS WITH BLACK."
His mighty life was burned away By Carolina's fiery sun; The pestilence that walks by day Smote him before his course seemed run.
The constellations of the sky,-- The Pleiades, the Southern Cross,-- Looked sadly down to see him die, To see a nation weep his loss.
"Send him to us," the stars might cry,-- "You do not feel his worth below; Your petty great men do not try The measure of his mind to know.
"His eye could pierce our vast expanse,-- His ear could hear our morning songs,-- His mind, amid our mystic dance, Could follow all our myriad throngs.
"Send him to us! No martyr's soul, No hero slain in righteous wars No raptured saint could e'er control A holier welcome from the stars." Take him, ye stars! Take him on high To your vast realms of boundless space; But once he turned from you to try His name on martial scrolls to trace. That once was when his country's call
Said danger to her flag was nigh; And then her banner's stars dimmed all The radiant lights which gemmed the sky. Take him, loved orbs! His country's life,-- Freedom for all,--for these he wars; For these he welcomed bloody strife, And followed in the wake of Mars. W. F. Williams.
CCCXLV.
WAR SONG.
DEDICATED TO THE MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENTS.
Up with the Flag of the Stripes and the Stars! Gather together from plough and from loom! Hark to the signal!--the music of wars Sounding for tyrants and traitors their doom. March, march, march, march! Brothers unite--rouse in your might, For Justice and Freedom, for God and the Right!
Down with the foe to the land and the laws! Marching together our country to save, God shall be with us to strengthen our cause, Nerving the heart and the hand of the brave. March, march, march, march! Brother's unite--rouse in your might, For Justice and Freedom, for God and the Right!