NEVER OR NOW.

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

LISTEN, young heroes! your country is calling!

Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true!

Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling,
Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!

You whom the fathers made free and defended,
Stain not the scroll that emblazons their fame!
You whose fair heritage spotless descended,

Leave not your children a birthright of shame!

Stay not for questions while Freedom stands gasping!
Wait not till Honor lies wrapped in his pall!
Brief the lips' meeting be, swift the hands clasping :
"Off for the wars!" is enough for them all.

Break from the arms that would fondly caress you!
Hark! 't is the bugle-blast, sabres are drawn !
Mothers shall pray for you, fathers shall bless you,
Maidens shall weep for you when you are gone!

Never or now! cries the blood of a nation,

Poured on the turf where the red rose should bloom; Now is the day and the hour of salvation,—

Never or now! peals the trumpet of doom!

Never or now! roars the hoarse-throated cannon
Through the black canopy blotting the skies;
Never or now! flaps the shell-blasted pennon
O'er the deep ooze where the Cumberland lies!

From the foul dens where our brothers are dying,
Aliens and foes in the land of their birth,—
From the rank swamps where our martyrs are lying,
Pleading in vain for a handful of earth,—

From the hot plains where they perish outnumbered, Furrowed and ridged by the battle-field's plough, Comes the loud summons; too long you have slumbered, Hear the last Angel-trump-Never or Now!

1862.

BOY BR

BOY BRITTAN.

BY FORCEYTHE WILLSON.

I.

OY BRITTAN-only a lad—a fair-haired boy-sixteen,
In his uniform,

Into the storm-into the roaring jaws of grim Fort
Henry-

Boldly bears the Federal flotilla

Into the battle storm!

II.

Boy Brittan is master's mate aboard of the Essex-
There he stands, buoyant and eager-eyed,

By the brave captain's side;

Ready to do and dare. Aye, aye, sir! always readyIn his country's uniform.

Boom! Boom! and now the flag-boat sweeps, and now the Essex,

Into the battle storm!

III.

Boom! Boom! till river and fort and field are over

clouded

By battle's breath; then from the fort a gleam

And a crashing gun, and the Essex is wrapt and shrouded In a scalding cloud of steam?

IV.

But victory! victory!

Unto God all praise be ever rendered,

Unto God all praise and glory be!

See, Boy Brittan! see, boy, see!

They strike! Hurrah! the fort has just surrendered!
Shout! Shout! my boy, my warrior boy!

And wave your cap and clap your hands for joy!
Cheer answer cheer and bear the cheer about-
Hurrah! Hurrah! for the fiery fort is ours;
And "Victory!" 'Victory!" Victory!"

Is the shout.

Shout-for the fiery fort, and the field, and the day are

ours

The day is ours-thanks to the brave endeavor

Of heroes, boy, like thee!

The day is ours—the day is ours!

Glory and deathless love to all who shared with thee,

And bravely endured and dared with thee

The day is ours-the day is ours

Forever!

Glory and Love for one and all; but-but-for thee— Home! Home! a happy "Welcome-welcome home" for thee!

And kisses of love for thee

And a mother's happy, happy tears, and a virgin's bridal wreath of flowers

For thee!

V.

Victory! Victory!

But suddenly wrecked and wrapt in seething steam, the Essex

Slowly drifted out of the battle's storm;

Slowly, slowly down-laden with the dead and dying; And there at the captain's feet, among the dead and the dying,

The shot-marred form of a beautiful boy is lying

There in his uniform!

VI.

Laurels and tears for thee, boy,

Laurels and tears for thee!

Laurels of light, moist with the precious dew

Of the inmost heart of the nation's loving heart,

And blest by the balmy breath of the beautiful and the

true;