The Guerrillas. AWAKE and to horse! my brothers, "Who cometh?" "A friend!" "What tidings?" 66 66 "O God! I sicken to tell; For the earth seems earth no longer, There's rapine, and fire, and slaughter, From the mountain down to the shore; There's blood on the trampled harvest, And blood on the homestead floor! "From the far off conquered cities. Comes the voice of a stifled wail, And the shrieks and moans of the houseless "I've seen, from the smoking village Our mothers and daughters fly! I've seen, where the little children "On the banks of the battle-stained river "Where my home was glad, are ashes, And horror and shame had been there; For I found, on the fallen lintel, This tress of my wife's torn hair! "They are turning the slave upon us, And with more than the fiend's worst art, Have uncovered the fires of the savage, That slept in his untaught heart! "The ties to our hearths that bound him, "With halter, and torch, and Bible, And hymns, to the sound of the drum, They preach the gospel of murder, And pray for lust's kingdom to come! "To saddle! to saddle! my brothers! Look up to the rising sun, And ask of the God who shines there, Whether deeds like these shall be done. "Wherever the vandal cometh, Press home to his heart with your steel; And where'er at his bosom ye can not, Like the serpent, go strike at his heel. "Through thicket and wood go hunt him; "In his fainting, foot-sore marches, "In God's hand alone is judgment, But He strikes with the hands of men, And His blight would wither our manhood, If we smote not the smiter again. "By the graves where our fathers slumber, By the shrines where our mothers prayed, By our homes, and hopes, and freedom, Let every man swear on his blade "That he will not sheath nor stay it They swore; and the answering sunlight There's weeping in all New-England, "TWAS as the dying of the day, And one lone sentry paced his rounds. A grave and solemn man was he, The wistful glance peered o'er the plain, Beneath the starry light; And, with the murmured name of God, He watched the camp that night. The future opened unto him Came heaving o'er his soul; |