IV.—THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER,

FRANCIS S. KEY,

OH, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming, Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,

O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming ; And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there : Oh, say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave ?

On that shore. dimly seen through the mists of the deep,

Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the the towering steep,

As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses ?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner; oh, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brove?

And where are the foes who so vauntingly swore

That the havoc of war, and the battle's confusion, A home and a country should leave us no more ?

Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution , No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave !

Oh, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between their loved homes and the war's desolation ! Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation ! Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto, “In God is our trust;' And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

V.-AWAKE! AWAKE! (1861.)

ELMER RUAN COATES.

MEN

EN of the mountain and men of the valley,

men of the woodland, of city and plain, A demon is plotting the death of our nation,

And 'ranging the work for the funeral train.
The Star Spangled Banner this moment implores you,

The ashes of Washington nervously shake;
The eagle is eager and anxious for action,

Men of America! 'Wake! Awake!!

Come from the hamlet where, close by your darling,

You see the corn wave from your bower-like door; Come from the counter-your wives and your daughters

Will 'tend to the books and the lace of the store.

Come from the college, thou student of pallor

What rhetoric grand will a battery make ! Farmers, mechanics, and men of profession,

Away with the soldiers ! Awake! Awake !!

See how the monarchs of Europe and Asia

Are weaving the evergreen on to each throne; See how the despots are fiendishly laughing

And holding their revels in boisterous tone; See how they love with a vampire affection,

How kindly they wish mediation to make ; Our Albion-mother would kill her own darling :

Awake from your slumbers ! Awake! Awake!!

Talk not of politics, talk not of party,

Already the death-bell of freedom is rung ; Talk not of airy and subtle distinction,

In slippers and wrappers o’er goblets of rum. Talk

you

of class, when the vessel is sinking, Or, when the tornadoes your dwelling-house shake ? Would you debate when the patient is dying?

Honor and valor! Awake! Awake!!

This is the work of the base politicians,

Of schemers defeated and bent upon bane; This is the fruit of a maddened ambition,

To stand at the wheel and to gloat over fame ! This is the end of forgetting religion,

As long as they thought there was lucre to make : Shall but a few leaders dissolve us forever ?

God banish our slumbers and keep us awake !

What ! Shall we break into bits, like the chalice

Some wine-heated toper would dash on the floor, And see every fragment a-qnaking with horror,

Whenever the old british lion may roar ? Shall the South leave the North, and the East leave the West,

Shall counties and townships authority take? Don't let it be said that America drafted :

Soul of the nation-Awake! Awake ! !

Will you surrender the Father of Waters

God's gift to the West for an eternal time? Will you consent to a custom-house officer

Searching you, crossing Virginia's line ? Shall flowers of Florida be the exotic,

While Northmen the name of the foreigner take, And this the result of a morbid ambition ?

Ho! for the army! Awake! Awake!!
We are contending for holiest principle;

What if our giant Republic should die ?
Tyrants will say : “You have made the experiment;

Out with Democracy !-It is a lie !"

a

Future Republican effort will languish,

The heart in the Goddess of Liberty ache ; Eearth will unwind all the reeling of ages,

Then oh! for Jehovah—Awake! Awake !!

'Rouse ! like the ancient and mighty Leviathan,

’Rouse ! like the pent up Vesuvius fire ; Down on your knees and declare to your Father,

Our country shall rise to a destiny higher ! Never give up-it is low and contemptible,

Having such means, with a nation at stakeThe Star Spangled Banner must wave over Richmond

The army is waiting-Awake! Awake!!

Strike on the chain that shall circle the Union

Binding the North to the South, East and West; Strike for the Unity that will secure us

A shield and asylum for all the oppressed ; Strike for your homes, for

your

wives and your children, For the refinements that progress may make, Rally, ye freemen! Arouse to the rescue !

Oh! Bleeding Columbia—'Wake! Awake !!

VI.-THE AMERICAN FLAG.

JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.

When

,

HEN Freedom, from her mountain height,

Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,

And set the stars of glory there !

She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure celestial white
With streakings of the morning light,
Then, from his mansion in the sun,
She called her eagle bearer down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land !

Majestic monarch of the cloud !

Who rear'st aloft thy regal form,
To hear the tempest-trumpings loud,
And see the lightning lances driven,

When strive the warriors of the storm,
And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven,-
Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given

To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle stroke,

And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,

The harbingers of victory!

Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high !
When speaks the signal-trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on,
Ere yet the life. blood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn,
To where thy sky-born glories burn,
And as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance.
And when the cannon-mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreathes the battle shroud,

And
gory

sabres rise and fall
Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall,
Then shall thy meteor glances glow,

And cowering foes shall sink beneath
Each gallant arm that strikes below

That lovely messenger of death.

Flag of the seas ! on ocean wave
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave ;
When death, careering on the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
Each dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly
In triumph o'er his closing eye.

Flag of the free heart's hope and home,

By angel hands to valor given,
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven !
Forever float that standard sheet,

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us !

VII.-ANDREW JACKSON.

CHAS. H. SAUNDERS.

THE fiat's spoken-the death-angel's hand

—
Hath becked a hero to the spirit land.
The shroud enrolls him, and affection's tear
Hath fallen–bedewed the patriot’s bier.
“ After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.”'-
What recks he now what friends or foemen tell !
Judge we his acts ? his corse is ’neath the sod ;-
He only answers to a righteous God.
What were the virtues of the warrior-sage?
Turn o'er our country's fame-illumined page!
Did he some error ere his good was won?
Remember! there are spots upon the sun !

'Tis his morning of life ;—the horizon afar
Is black with the tempest of threatening war.
Like the flash of the lightning the tomahawks gleam ;
On the wings of the wind comes the borderer's scream:
“The foe!—'tis the savage!”—and rapine and blood
Mark the moccason's track by mountain and flood ;-
The hatchet's unearthed,—the rifle, the knife,
Tell the terrible tale of the Indian's strife ;-
And the smoke of the cot, as it curls to the sky,
Speaks the blast of the savage but late hath passed by,
Who's the borderer's shield in this dread alarm?
Where is the heart, the invincible arm,
That can dare,—that can do? 'T is Jackson's. The foe
Cows back to the forest ; unbent is the bow,
And buried the hatchet; the war-whoop is still ;
And the savages crouch to that stern iron will.
'Tis the “noon-day'' of life, and see! on the main
Proud England's “Red Banner” floateth again.
The “Lion” is chaffed that the “Eagle” doth soar,
And the prows of King Gearge are turned towards our shore ;
The “flower'' of Britain's dread army is there.
Where now is the soul that battalia to dare ?
While their guns breathe defiance, they close with the land ;-
Brave Jackson is there, and they halt on the strand.

Booty and Beauty,'' the Briton's war-cry,—
They mix in the fight to conquer or die !
The red blast of battle sweeps over the plain,
And the “green” is “one red' with the blood of the slain !
Orleans looks on in dread of her doom,-
Is it borne to her ears in the cannon's deep boom ?
Bethink they whose voice directs now the war,
Whose thunder doth answer the “Lion's” hoarse roar ?
'Tis the “Iron-willed” hero !-hark! the cannon is hushed !
The "flower of chivalry' is broken and crushed.
The “Lion” his booty is forced to disgorge,
And the Star-Spangled Banner floats over St. George.

66

6

'Tis the “evening of life”-in the chair of the state
Sits the battle-scarred hero, the brave and the great ;
The head of the nation for which he shed blood,
He sought to promote that loved country's good.
Did he err in the mission he ineant to fulfil ?
Are there those that regret that stern "Iron will ?''
Man cannot be perfect ;-let this, love impart:
"The good of his country was writ on his heart."

The “midnight' has come, and the dreamless sleep;
No faction can now rouse that slumber deep.
“Columbia” weeps for the death of the brave;
Her "Eagle" sweeps mournful o'er a patriot's grave
Tell your grief to the skies in the cannon's deep roar!
Let the long line move on, and the orison soar !