Part 2

IN poisonous dens, where traitors hide Like bats that fear the day, While all the land our charters claim Is sweating blood and breathing flame, Dead to their country's woe and shame, The recreants whisper STAY!

In peaceful homes, where patriot fires On Love's own altars glow, The mother hides her trembling fear, The wife, the sister, checks a tear, To breathe the parting word of cheer, Soldier of Freedom, Go!

In halls where Luxury lies at ease, And Mammon keeps his state, Where flatterers fawn and menials crouch, The dreamer, startled from his couch, Wrings a few counters from his pouch, And murmurs faintly WAIT!

In weary camps, on trampled plains That ring with fife and drum, The battling host, whose harness gleams Along the crimson-flowing streams, Calls, like a warning voice in dreams, We want you, Brother! COME!

Choose ye whose bidding ye will do,-- To go, to wait, to stay! Sons of the Freedom-loving town, Heirs of the Fathers' old renown, The servile yoke, the civic crown, Await your choice To-DAY!

The stake is laid! O gallant youth With yet unsilvered brow, If Heaven should lose and Hell should win, On whom shall lie the mortal sin, That cries aloud, It might have been? God calls you--answer NOW.

1862.

NEVER OR NOW

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 You 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!

1862.

ONE COUNTRY

ONE country! Treason's writhing asp Struck madly at her girdle's clasp, And Hatred wrenched with might and main To rend its welded links in twain, While Mammon hugged his golden calf Content to take one broken half, While thankless churls stood idly by And heard unmoved a nation's cry!

One country! "Nay,"--the tyrant crew Shrieked from their dens,--"it shall be two! Ill bodes to us this monstrous birth, That scowls on all the thrones of earth, Too broad yon starry cluster shines, Too proudly tower the New-World pines, Tear down the 'banner of the free,' And cleave their land from sea to sea!"

One country still, though foe and "friend" Our seamless empire strove to rend; Safe! safe' though all the fiends of hell Join the red murderers' battle-yell! What though the lifted sabres gleam, The cannons frown by shore and stream,-- The sabres clash, the cannons thrill, In wild accord, One country still!

One country! in her stress and strain We heard the breaking of a chain! Look where the conquering Nation swings Her iron flail,--its shivered rings! Forged by the rebels' crimson hand, That bolt of wrath shall scourge the land Till Peace proclaims on sea and shore One Country now and evermore!

1865.

GOD SAVE THE FLAG

WASHED in the blood of the brave and the blooming, Snatched from the altars of insolent foes, Burning with star-fires, but never consuming, Flash its broad ribbons of lily and rose.

Vainly the prophets of Baal would rend it, Vainly his worshippers pray for its fall; Thousands have died for it, millions defend it, Emblem of justice and mercy to all:

Justice that reddens the sky with her terrors, Mercy that comes with her white-handed train, Soothing all passions, redeeming all errors, 'Sheathing the sabre and breaking the chain.

Borne on the deluge of old usurpations, Drifted our Ark o'er the desolate seas, Bearing the rainbow of hope to the nations, Torn from the storm-cloud and flung to the breeze!

God bless the Flag and its loyal defenders, While its broad folds o'er the battle-field wave, Till the dim star-wreath rekindle its splendors, Washed from its stains in the blood of the brave!

1865.

HYMN AFTER THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION

GIVER of all that crowns our days, With grateful hearts we sing thy praise; Through deep and desert led by Thee, Our promised land at last we see.

Ruler of Nations, judge our cause! If we have kept thy holy laws, The sons of Belial curse in vain The day that rends the captive's chain.

Thou God of vengeance! Israel's Lord! Break in their grasp the shield and sword, And make thy righteous judgments known Till all thy foes are overthrown!

Then, Father, lay thy healing hand In mercy on our stricken land; Lead all its wanderers to the fold, And be their Shepherd as of old.

So shall one Nation's song ascend To Thee, our Ruler, Father, Friend, While Heaven's wide arch resounds again With Peace on earth, good-will to men!

1865.

HYMN FOR THE FAIR AT CHICAGO

O GOD! in danger's darkest hour, In battle's deadliest field, Thy name has been our Nation's tower, Thy truth her help and shield.

Our lips should fill the air with praise, Nor pay the debt we owe, So high above the songs we raise The floods of mercy flow.

Yet Thou wilt hear the prayer we speak, The song of praise we sing,-- Thy children, who thine altar seek Their grateful gifts to bring.

Thine altar is the sufferer's bed, The home of woe and pain, The soldier's turfy pillow, red With battle's crimson rain.

No smoke of burning stains the air, No incense-clouds arise; Thy peaceful servants, Lord, prepare A bloodless sacrifice.

Lo! for our wounded brothers' need, We bear the wine and oil; For us they faint, for us they bleed, For them our gracious toil!

O Father, bless the gifts we bring! Cause Thou thy face to shine, Till every nation owns her King, And all the earth is thine.

1865.

UNDER THE WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE

APRIL 27,1861

EIGHTY years have passed, and more, Since under the brave old tree Our fathers gathered in arms, and swore They would follow the sign their banners bore, And fight till the land was free.

Half of their work was done, Half is left to do,-- Cambridge, and Concord, and Lexington! When the battle is fought and won, What shall be told of you?

Hark!--'t is the south-wind moans,-- Who are the martyrs down? Ah, the marrow was true in your children's bones That sprinkled with blood the cursed stones Of the murder-haunted town!

What if the storm-clouds blow? What if the green leaves fall? Better the crashing tempest's throe Than the army of worms that gnawed below; Trample them one and all!

Then, when the battle is won, And the land from traitors free, Our children shall tell of the strife begun When Liberty's second April sun Was bright on our brave old tree!

FREEDOM, OUR QUEEN

LAND where the banners wave last in the sun, Blazoned with star-clusters, many in one, Floating o'er prairie and mountain and sea; Hark! 't is the voice of thy children to thee!

Here at thine altar our vows we renew Still in thy cause to be loyal and true,-- True to thy flag on the field and the wave, Living to honor it, dying to save!

Mother of heroes! if perfidy's blight Fall on a star in thy garland of light, Sound but one bugle-blast! Lo! at the sign Armies all panoplied wheel into line!

Hope of the world! thou'hast broken its chains,-- Wear thy bright arms while a tyrant remains, Stand for the right till the nations shall own Freedom their sovereign, with Law for her throne!

Freedom! sweet Freedom! our voices resound, Queen by God's blessing, unsceptred, uncrowned! Freedom, sweet Freedom, our pulses repeat, Warm with her life-blood, as long as they beat!

Fold the broad banner-stripes over her breast,-- Crown her with star-jewels Queen of the West! Earth for her heritage, God for her friend, She shall reign over us, world without end!

ARMY HYMN

"OLD HUNDRED"

O LORD of Hosts! Almighty King! Behold the sacrifice we bring To every arm thy strength impart, Thy spirit shed through every heart!

Wake in our breasts the living fires, The holy faith that warmed our sires; Thy hand hath made our Nation free; To die for her is serving Thee.

Be Thou a pillared flame to show The midnight snare, the silent foe; And when the battle thunders loud, Still guide us in its moving cloud.

God of all Nations! Sovereign Lord In thy dread name we draw the sword, We lift the starry flag on high That fills with light our stormy sky.

From treason's rent, from murder's stain, Guard Thou its folds till Peace shall reign,-- Till fort and field, till shore and sea, Join our loud anthem, PRAISE TO THEE!

PARTING HYMN "DUNDEE"

FATHER of Mercies, Heavenly Friend, We seek thy gracious throne; To Thee our faltering prayers ascend, Our fainting hearts are known.

From blasts that chill, from suns that smite, From every plague that harms; In camp and march, in siege and fight, Protect our men-at-arms.

Though from our darkened lives they take What makes our life most dear, We yield them for their country's sake With no relenting tear.

Our blood their flowing veins will shed, Their wounds our breasts will share; Oh, save us from the woes we dread, Or grant us strength to bear!

Let each unhallowed cause that brings The stern destroyer cease, Thy flaming angel fold his wings, And seraphs whisper Peace!

Thine are the sceptre and the sword, Stretch forth thy mighty hand,-- Reign Thou our kingless nation's Lord, Rule Thou our throneless land!

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 Oh 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!

THE SWEET LITTLE MAN

DEDICATED TO THE STAY-AT-HOME RANGERS

Now, while our soldiers are fighting our battles, Each at his post to do all that he can, Down among rebels and contraband chattels, What are you doing, my sweet little man?

All the brave boys under canvas are sleeping, All of them pressing to march with the van, Far from the home where their sweethearts are weeping; What are you waiting for, sweet little man?

You with the terrible warlike mustaches, Fit for a colonel or chief of a clan, You with the waist made for sword-belts and sashes, Where are your shoulder-straps, sweet little man?

Bring him the buttonless garment of woman! Cover his face lest it freckle and tan; Muster the Apron-String Guards on the Common, That is the corps for the sweet little man!

Give him for escort a file of young misses, Each of them armed with a deadly rattan; They shall defend him from laughter and hisses, Aimed by low boys at the sweet little man.

All the fair maidens about him shall cluster, Pluck the white feathers from bonnet and fan, Make him a plume like a turkey-wing duster,-- That is the crest for the sweet little man!

Oh, but the Apron-String Guards are the fellows Drilling each day since our troubles began,-- "Handle your walking-sticks!" "Shoulder umbrellas!" That is the style for the sweet little man!

Have we a nation to save? In the first place Saving ourselves is the sensible plan,-- Surely the spot where there's shooting's the worst place Where I can stand, says the sweet little man.

Catch me confiding my person with strangers! Think how the cowardly Bull-Runners ran! In the brigade of the Stay-at-Home Rangers Marches my corps, says the sweet little man.

Such was the stuff of the Malakoff-takers, Such were the soldiers that scaled the Redan; Truculent housemaids and bloodthirsty Quakers, Brave not the wrath of the sweet little man!

Yield him the sidewalk, ye nursery maidens! _Sauve qui peut_! Bridget, and right about! Ann;-- Fierce as a shark in a school of menhadens, See him advancing, the sweet little man!

When the red flails of the battle-field's threshers Beat out the continent's wheat from its bran, While the wind scatters the chaffy seceshers, What will become of our sweet little man?

When the brown soldiers come back from the borders, How will he look while his features they scan? How will he feel when he gets marching orders, Signed by his lady love? sweet little man!

Fear not for him, though the rebels expect him,-- Life is too precious to shorten its span; Woman her broomstick shall raise to protect him, Will she not fight for the sweet little man?

Now then, nine cheers for the Stay-at-Home Ranger! Blow the great fish-horn and beat the big pan! First in the field that is farthest from danger, Take your white-feather plume, sweet little man!

UNION AND LIBERTY

FLAG of the heroes who left us their glory, Borne through their battle-fields' thunder and flame, Blazoned in song and illumined in story, Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame!

Up with our banner bright, Sprinkled with starry light, Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, While through the sounding sky Loud rings the Nation's cry,-- UNION AND LIBERTY! ONE EVERMORE!

Light of our firmament, guide of our Nation, Pride of her children, and honored afar, Let the wide beams of thy full constellation Scatter each cloud that would darken a star Up with our banner bright, etc.

Empire unsceptred! what foe shall assail thee, Bearing the standard of Liberty's van? Think not the God of thy fathers shall fail thee, Striving with men for the birthright of man! Up with our banner bright, etc.

Yet if, by madness and treachery blighted, Dawns the dark hour when the sword thou must draw, Then with the arms of thy millions united, Smite the bold traitors to Freedom and Law! Up with our banner bright, etc.

Lord of the Universe! shield us and guide us, Trusting Thee always, through shadow and sun! Thou hast united us, who shall divide us? Keep us, oh keep us the MANY IN ONE! Up with our banner bright, Sprinkled with starry light, Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, While through the sounding sky Loud rings the Nation's cry,-- UNION AND LIBERTY! ONE EVERMORE!

SONGS OF WELCOME AND FAREWELL

AMERICA TO RUSSIA

AUGUST 5, 1866 Read by Hon. G. V. Fox at a dinner given to the Mission from the United States, St. Petersburg.

THOUGH watery deserts hold apart The worlds of East and West, Still beats the selfsame human heart In each proud Nation's breast.

Our floating turret tempts the main And dares the howling blast To clasp more close the golden chain That long has bound them fast.

In vain the gales of ocean sweep, In vain the billows roar That chafe the wild and stormy steep Of storied Elsinore.

She comes! She comes! her banners dip In Neva's flashing tide, With greetings on her cannon's lip, The storm-god's iron bride!

Peace garlands with the olive-bough Her thunder-bearing tower, And plants before her cleaving prow The sea-foam's milk-white flower.

No prairies heaped their garnered store To fill her sunless hold, Not rich Nevada's gleaming ore Its hidden caves infold,

But lightly as the sea-bird swings She floats the depths above, A breath of flame to lend her wings, Her freight a people's love!

When darkness hid the starry skies In war's long winter night, One ray still cheered our straining eyes, The far-off Northern light.

And now the friendly rays return From lights that glow afar, Those clustered lamps of Heaven that burn Around the Western Star.

A nation's love in tears and smiles We bear across the sea, O Neva of the banded isles, We moor our hearts in thee!

WELCOME TO THE GRAND DUKE ALEXIS

MUSIC HALL, DECEMBER 6, 1871

Sung to the Russian national air by the children of the public schools.

SHADOWED so long by the storm-cloud of danger, Thou whom the prayers of an empire defend, Welcome, thrice welcome! but not as a stranger, Come to the nation that calls thee its friend!

Bleak are our shores with the blasts of December, Fettered and chill is the rivulet's flow; Throbbing and warm are the hearts that remember Who was our friend when the world was our foe.

Look on the lips that are smiling to greet thee, See the fresh flowers that a people has strewn Count them thy sisters and brothers that meet thee; Guest of the Nation, her heart is thine own!

Fires of the North, in eternal communion, Blend your broad flashes with evening's bright star! God bless the Empire that loves the Great Union; Strength to her people! Long life to the Czar!

AT THE BANQUET TO THE GRAND DUKE ALEXIS

DECEMBER 9, 1871

ONE word to the guest we have gathered to greet! The echoes are longing that word to repeat,-- It springs to the lips that are waiting to part, For its syllables spell themselves first in the heart.

Its accents may vary, its sound may be strange, But it bears a kind message that nothing can change; The dwellers by Neva its meaning can tell, For the smile, its interpreter, shows it full well.

That word! How it gladdened the Pilgrim yore, As he stood in the snow on the desolate shore! When the shout of the sagamore startled his ear In the phrase of the Saxon, 't was music to hear!

Ah, little could Samoset offer our sire,-- The cabin, the corn-cake, the seat by the fire; He had nothing to give,--the poor lord of the land,-- But he gave him a WELCOME,--his heart in his hand!

The tribe of the sachem has melted away, But the word that he spoke is remembered to-day, And the page that is red with the record of shame The tear-drops have whitened round Samoset's name.

The word that he spoke to the Pilgrim of old May sound like a tale that has often been told; But the welcome we speak is as fresh as the dew,-- As the kiss of a lover, that always is new!

Ay, Guest of the Nation! each roof is thine own Through all the broad continent's star-bannered zone; From the shore where the curtain of morn is uprolled, To the billows that flow through the gateway of gold.

The snow-crested mountains are calling aloud; Nevada to Ural speaks out of the cloud, And Shasta shouts forth, from his throne in the sky, To the storm-splintered summits, the peaks of Altai!

You must leave him, they say, till the summer is green! Both shores are his home, though the waves roll between; And then we'll return him, with thanks for the same, As fresh and as smiling and tall as he came.

But ours is the region of arctic delight; We can show him auroras and pole-stars by night; There's a Muscovy sting in the ice-tempered air, And our firesides are warm and our maidens are fair.

The flowers are full-blown in the garlanded hall,-- They will bloom round his footsteps wherever they fall; For the splendors of youth and the sunshine they bring Make the roses believe 't is the summons of Spring.

One word of our language he needs must know well, But another remains that is harder to spell; We shall speak it so ill, if he wishes to learn How we utter Farewell, he will have to return!

AT THE BANQUET TO THE CHINESE EMBASSY

AUGUST 21, 1868

BROTHERS, whom we may not reach Through the veil of alien speech, Welcome! welcome! eyes can tell What the lips in vain would spell,-- Words that hearts can understand, Brothers from the Flowery Land!

We, the evening's latest born, Hail the children of the morn! We, the new creation's birth, Greet the lords of ancient earth, From their storied walls and towers Wandering to these tents of ours!

Land of wonders, fair Cathay, Who long hast shunned the staring day, Hid in mists of poet's dreams By thy blue and yellow streams,-- Let us thy shadowed form behold,-- Teach us as thou didst of old.

Knowledge dwells with length of days; Wisdom walks in ancient ways; Thine the compass that could guide A nation o'er the stormy tide, Scourged by passions, doubts, and fears, Safe through thrice a thousand years!

Looking from thy turrets gray Thou hast seen the world's decay,-- Egypt drowning in her sands,-- Athens rent by robbers' hands,-- Rome, the wild barbarian's prey, Like a storm-cloud swept away:

Looking from thy turrets gray Still we see thee. Where are they? And to I a new-born nation waits, Sitting at the golden gates That glitter by the sunset sea,-- Waits with outspread arms for thee!

Open wide, ye gates of gold, To the Dragon's banner-fold! Builders of the mighty wall, Bid your mountain barriers fall! So may the girdle of the sun. Bind the East and West in one,

Till Mount Shasta's breezes fan The snowy peaks of Ta Sieue-Shan,-- Till Erie blends its waters blue With the waves of Tung-Ting-Hu,-- Till deep Missouri lends its flow To swell the rushing Hoang-Ho!

AT THE BANQUET TO THE JAPANESE EMBASSY

AUGUST 2, 1872

WE welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun! The voice of the many sounds feebly through one; Ah! would 't were a voice of more musical tone, But the dog-star is here, and the song-birds have flown.

And what shall I sing that can cheat you of smiles, Ye heralds of peace from the Orient isles? If only the Jubilee--Why did you wait? You are welcome, but oh! you're a little too late!

We have greeted our brothers of Ireland and France, Round the fiddle of Strauss we have joined in the dance, We have lagered Herr Saro, that fine-looking man, And glorified Godfrey, whose name it is Dan.

What a pity! we've missed it and you've missed it too, We had a day ready and waiting for you; We'd have shown you--provided, of course, you had come-- You 'd have heard--no, you would n't, because it was dumb.

And then the great organ! The chorus's shout Like the mixture teetotalers call "Cold without"-- A mingling of elements, strong, but not sweet; And the drum, just referred to, that "couldn't be beat."

The shrines of our pilgrims are not like your own, Where white Fusiyama lifts proudly its cone, (The snow-mantled mountain we see on the fan That cools our hot cheeks with a breeze from Japan.)

But ours the wide temple where worship is free As the wind of the prairie, the wave of the sea; You may build your own altar wherever you will, For the roof of that temple is over you still.

One dome overarches the star-bannered shore; You may enter the Pope's or the Puritan's door, Or pass with the Buddhist his gateway of bronze, For a priest is but Man, be he bishop or bonze.