uvertures from Richmond 93 “And, by the way, one little thing more,” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam, “You 're to refund the cost of the war,” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam. “Lero, lero, just what I fear 0, just what I fear,” Says old Uncle Sam, “Lero, lero, fillibustero, just what I fear," Says old Uncle Sam. “Next, you must own our cavalier blood ! ” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam, “And that your Puritaps sprang from the mud!” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam. “Lero, lero, that mud cle O, that mud is clear,” Says old Uncle Sam, “Lero, lero, fillibustero, that mud is clear," Says old Uncle Sam. Slavery 's of course the chief corner-stone," Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam, “Of our NEW CIV-IL-I-ZA-TION!” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam. “Lero, lero, that 's quite sincere O, that 's quite sincere,” Says old Uncle Sam, “Lero, lero, fillibustero, that's quite sincere,” Says old Uncle Sam. “You 'll understand, my recreant tool,” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam, “You ’re to submit, and we are to rule,” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam. “Lero, lero, are n’t you a hero ! are n't you a hero !" Says old Uncle Sam, 'Lero, lero, fillibustero, are n't you a hero !” Says old Uncle Sam. 99 “If to these terms you fully consent,” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam, “I'll be perpetual King-President,” Lillibulero, old Uncle Sam. 'Lero, lero, take your som rero, off to your swamps !” Says old Uncle Sam, “Lero, lero, fillibustero, cut, double-quick ! ” Says old Uncle Sam. The cluster'd spires of Frederick stand Round about them orchards sweep, Apple- and peach-trees fruited deep. Fair as the garden of the Lord On that pleasant morn of the early fall, Over the mountains winding down, Forty flags with their silver stars, Flapp'd in the morning wind : the sun Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bravest of all in Frederick town, In her attic window the staff she set, Up the street came the rebel tread, Under his slouch'd hat left and right “Halt!”-the dust-brown ranks stood fast, “ Fire !”-out blazed the rifle blast. It shiver'd the window, pane and sash; JBarbara Frietcbie 97 Quick, as it fell from the broken staff, She lean’d far out on the window-sill, Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag,” she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame The nobler nature within him stirr'd “Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!” he said. All day long through Frederick street All day long that free flag tost Ever its torn folds rose and fell And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night. Vol. II. |