How I love them! how I could hug them, with their brown faces and their clothes and knapsacks cover'd with dust!) The blood of the city up-arm'd! arm'd! the cry everywhere, The flags flung out from the steeples of churches and from all the public buildings and stores, The tearful parting, the mother kisses her son, the son kisses his mother, (Loth is the mother to part, yet not a word does she speak to detain him), The tumultuous escort, the ranks of policemen preceding, clearing the way, The unpent enthusiasm, the wild cheers of the crowd for their favorites, The artillery, the silent cannons bright as gold, drawn along, rumble lightly over the stones, (Silent cannons, soon to cease your silence, Soon unlimber'd to begin the red business); All the mutter of preparation, all the determin'd arming, The hospital service, the lint, bandages, and medicines, The women volunteering for nurses, the work begun for in earnest, no mere parade now; War! an arm'd race is advancing! the welcome for battle, no turning away; War! be it weeks, months, or years, an arm'd race is advancing to welcome it. Mannahatta a-march-and it's O to sing it well! And the sturdy artillery, The guns bright as gold, the work for giants, to serve well the guns, Unlimber them! (no more as the past forty years for salutes for courtesies merely), Put in something now besides powder and wadding. And you, lady of ships, you Mannahatta, Old matron of this proud, friendly, turbulent city, Often in peace and wealth you were pensive or covertly frown'd amid all your children, But now you smile with joy exulting, old Mannahatta. MEN OF THE NORTH BY JOHN NEAL Men of the North, look up! Your strength-where is it now? Men of the North, awake! Ye're called to from the deep; Trumpets in every breeze- A stir in every tree; A shout from every wave; A challenging on every side; A moan from every grave: A battle in the sky; Ships thundering through the airJehovah on the march Men of the North, to prayer! Now, now-in all your strength; Lift up your eyes, and see See how the midnight air With bright commotion burns, The sea-fog driving in, The moon afraid-stars dropping out The very skies adrift; The Everlasting God, Our Father-Lord of Love With cherubim and seraphim All gathering above; Their stormy plumage lighted up THE OATH OF FREEDOM BY JAMES BARRON HOPE Born free, thus we resolve to live: By all the stars which burn on high- We will be free or die! Then let the drums all roll! Let all the trumpets blow! We spurn control Attempted by a foe! Born free, thus we resolve to live: And, vainly now the Northmen try Then let the drums all roll! etc. Born free, thus we resolve to live: Our wives and children look on high, Then let the drums all roll! etc. Born free, thus we resolve to live: And ere we cease this battle-cry, We will be free or die! Then let the drums all roll! etc. Born free, thus we resolve to live: Shake out their glories to the air, Then let the drums all roll! etc. Born free, thus we resolve to live: Then let the drums all roll! etc. (Southern.) |