Puslapio vaizdai

For Home and


Come as the winds come, when
Forests are rended,

Come as the waves come, when

Navies are stranded:
Faster come, faster come,

Faster and faster,

Chief, vassal, page and groom,

Tenant and master.

Fast they come, fast they come;

See how they gather!
Wide waves the eagle plume

Blended with heather.

Cast your plaids, draw your blades,

Forward each man set!

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu

Knell for the onset!


The Reveille

Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands,
And of armed men the hum;
Lo! a nation's hosts have gathered
Round the quick alarming drum,—
Saying, "Come,

Freemen, come!

Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick
Alarming drum.

"Let me of my heart take counsel: War is not of life the sum;

Who shall stay and reap the harvest

When the autumn days shall come?"
But the drum

Echoed, "Come!

Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the
Solemn-sounding drum.

"But when won the coming battle,
What of profit springs therefrom?

What if conquest, subjugation,
Even greater ills become?'
But the drum

Answered," Come!

You must do the sum to prove it," said the

Yankee-answering drum.

66 What if, 'mid the cannons' thunder, Whistling shot and bursting bomb,

When my brothers fall around me,

Should my heart grow cold and numb?"
But the drum

Answered, "Come!

Better there in death united, than in life

recreant, -Come!"

Thus they answered,-hoping, fearing,
Some in faith, and doubting some,

For Home



For Home and


Till a trumpet-voice proclaiming,

Said, "My chosen people, come!"
Then the drum,

Lo! was dumb,

For the great heart of the nation, throbbing,

[blocks in formation]

Ye Mariners of England

Ye Mariners of England,

That guard our native seas,

Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze,

Your glorious standard launch again,

To match another foe!
And sweep through the deep

While the stormy winds do blow-
While the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy winds do blow.

The spirit of your fathers

Shall start from every wave!

For the deck it was their field of fame,
And Ocean was their grave.

Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell

Your manly hearts shall glow,

As ye sweep through the deep

While the stormy winds do blowWhile the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.

Britannia needs no bulwarks,

No towers along the steep;

Her march is o'er the mountain-wave,

Her home is on the deep.

With thunders from her native oak

She quells the floods below,

As they roar on the shore

When the stormy winds do blow-
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.

The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,

Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return.
Then, then, ye ocean-warriors!
Our song and feast shall flow

To the fame of your name,

When the storm has ceased to blow,When the fiery fight is heard no more,

And the storm has ceased to blow.


For Home

and Country


Home and Country

The Knight's Tomb

Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be?—
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Hel-

Under the twigs of a young birch tree!

The oak that in summer was sweet to hear,
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone, and the birch in its stead is grown.-
The knight's bones are dust,

And his good sword rust;

His soul is with the saints, I trust.


How Sleep the Brave!

How sleep the Brave who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;

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