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He's re-enlisted for the war, for victory or for death ! A soldier's grave, perhaps !--the thought has half

way stopped my breath, And driven a cloud across the sun ;-my boy, it will

not be! The war will soon be over; home again you'll come to


He's re-enlisted: and I smiled to see him going, too! There's nothing that becomes him half so well as

army-blue. Only a private in the ranks! but sure I am indeed, If all the privates were like him, they'd scarcely cap

tains need.

And I, and Massachusetts share the honor of his birth: The grand old State! to me the best in all the peopled

earth! I cannot hold a musket, but I have a son who can; And I'm proud for Freedom's sake to be the mother

of a man!



The morning is cheery, my boys, arouse!
The dew shines bright on the chestnut boughs,
And the sleepy mist on the river lies,
Though the east is flushing with crimson dyes,

Awake! awake! awake!

O'er field and wood and brake,
With glories newly born,
Comes on the blushing morn.

Awake! awake!

You have dreamed of your homes and friends all

You have basked in your sweethearts' smiles so bright;
Come, part with them all for a while again,-
Be lovers in dreams; when awake, be men.
Turn out! turn out! turn out!

You have dreamed full long, I know.
Turn out! turn out! turn out!
The east is all aglow.

Turn out! turn out!

From every valley and hill there come
The clamoring voices of fife and drum;
And out in the fresh, cool morning air
The soldiers are swarming everywhere.
Fall in! fall in! fall in!

Every man in his place,
Fall in! fall in! fall in!
Each with a cheerful face,

Fall in! fall in!


Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864


Farragut, Farragut,

Old Heart of Oak,
Daring Dave Farragut,

Thunderbolt stroke,
Watches the hoary mist

Lift from the bay,
Till his flag, glory-kissed,

Greets the young day.

Far, by gray Morgan's walls,

Looms the black fleet.
Hark, deck to rampart calls

With the drums' beat!
Buoy your chains overboard,

While the steam hums;
Men! to the battlement,

Farragut comes.

See, as the hurricane

Hurtles in wrath
Squadrons of clouds amain

Back from its path!
Back to the parapet,

To the guns' lips,
Thunderbolt Farragut

Hurls the black ships.

Now through the battle's roar

Clear the boy sings,
By the mark fathoms four,"

While his lead swings.
Steady the wheelmen five

“Nor' by East keep her," Steady," but two alive; How the shells sweep her!

Lashed to the mast that sways

Over red decks,
Over the flame that plays

Round the torn wrecks,
Over the dying lips

Framed for a cheer, Farragut leads his ships,

Guides the line clear.

On by heights cannon-browed,

While the spars quiver; Onward still flames the cloud

Where the hulks shiver. See, yon fort's star is set,

Storm and fire past. Cheer him, lads-Farragut,

Lashed to the mast!

Oh! while Atlantic's breast

Bears a white sail, While the Gulf's towering crest

Tops a green vale,

Men thy bold deeds shall tell,

Old Heart of Oak,
Daring Dave Farragut,

Thunderbolt stroke!



Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass

He turned them into the river-lane; One after another he let them pass,

Then fastened the meadow-bars again.

Under the willows, and over the hill,

He patiently followed their sober pace; The merry whistle for once was still,

And something shadowed the sunny face.

Only a boy! and his father had said

He never could let his youngest go: Two already were lying dead

Under the feet of the trampling foe.

But after the evening work was done,

And the frogs were loud in the meadow-swamp, Over his shoulder he slung his gun

And stealthily followed the foot-path damp.

Across the clover, and through the wheat,

With resolute heart and purpose grim,

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