The American Union Speaker Part 59

Give her the Right, and let her try; And then who can may press her; She'll go straight on, or she will die: G.o.d bless her, and G.o.d bless her!

R. Lowell.

CCCXXVIII.

ON THE Sh.o.r.eS OF TENNESSEE.

"Move my arm-chair, faithful Pompey, In the suns.h.i.+ne bright and strong, For this world is fading, Pompey-- Ma.s.sa won't be with you long; And I fain would hear the south wind Bring once more the sound to me, Of the wavelets softly breaking On the sh.o.r.es of Tennessee.

"Mournful though the ripples murmur, As they still the story tell, How no vessels float the banner That I've loved so long and well, I shall listen to their music, Dreaming that again I see Stars and stripes on sloop and shallop, Sailing up the Tennessee.

"And, Pompey, while old ma.s.sa's waiting For death's last despatch to come, If that exiled starry banner Should come proudly sailing home, You shall greet it, slave no longer-- Voice and hand shall both be free That shouts and points to Union colors On the waves of Tennessee."

"Ma.s.sa's berry kind to Pompey; But ole darkey's happy here, Where he's tended corn and cotton For 'ese many a long-gone year.

Over yonder Missis's sleeping-- No one tends her grave like me; Mebbie she would miss the flowers She used to love in Tennessee.

"'Pears like she was watching Ma.s.sa-- If Pompey should beside him stay, Mebbie she'd remember better How for him she used to pray; Telling him that way up yonder White as snow his soul would be, If he served the Lord of heaven While he lived in Tennessee."

Silently the tears were rolling Down the poor old dusky face, As he stepped behind his master, In his long accustomed place.

Then a silence fell around them, As they gazed on rock and tree Pictured in the placid waters Of the rolling Tennessee.

Master dreaming of the battle Where he fought by Marion's side, When he bid the haughty Tarleton Stoop his lordly crest of pride.

Man, remembering how yon sleeper Once he held upon his knee, Ere she loved the gallant soldier, Ralph Vervair, of Tennessee.

Still the south wind fondly lingers 'Mid the veteran's silvery hair; Still the bondman close beside him Stands behind the old arm-chair, With his dark-hued hand uplifted, Shading eyes he bends to see Where the woodland boldly jutting Turns aside the Tennessee.

Thus he watches cloud-born shadows Glide from tree to mountain crest, Softly creeping, aye and ever, To the river's yielding breast.

Ha! above the foliage yonder Something flutters wild and free!

"Ma.s.sa! Ma.s.sa! Hallelujah!

The flag's come back to Tennessee!"

"Pompey hold me on your shoulder, Help me stand on foot once more, That I may salute the colors As they pa.s.s my cabin-door.

Here's the paper signed that frees you; Give a freeman's shout with me-- 'G.o.d and Union!' be our watchword Evermore in Tennessee."

Then the trembling voice grew fainter, And the limbs refused to stand; One prayer to Jesus--and the soldier Glided to that better land.

When the flag went down the river Man and master both were free, While the ringdove's note was mingled With the rippling Tennessee.

E. L. Beers.

CCCXXIX.

A BATTLE-SONG FOR FREEDOM.

Men of action! men of might!

Stern defenders of the right!

Are you girded for the fight?

Have you marked and trenched the ground, Where the din of arms must sound, Ere the victor can be crowned?

Have you guarded well the coast?

Have you marshalled all your host?

Standeth each man at his post?

Have you counted up the cost?

What is gained and what is lost, When the foe your lines have crost?

Gained--the infamy of fame.

Gained--a dastard's spotted name.

Gained--eternity of shame.

Lost--desert of manly youth.

Lost--the right you had by birth.

Lost--lost!--freedom for the earth.

Freemen, up! The foe is nearing!

Haughty banners high uprearing-- Lo, their serried ranks appearing!

Freemen, on! The drums are beating!

Will you shrink from such a meeting?

Forward! Give them hero greeting!

From your hearths, and homes, and altars, Backward hurl your proud a.s.saulters.

He is not a man that falters.

Hus.h.!.+ The hour of fate is nigh, On the help of G.o.d rely!

Forward! We will do or die.

G. Hamilton.

CCCx.x.x.

THE VOICE OF THE NORTH.

Up the hill-side, down the glen, Rouse the sleeping citizen: Summon out the might of men!

Like a lion growling low-Like a night-storm rising slow-Like the tread of unseen foe--

It is coming--it if nigh!

Stand your homes and altars by, On your own free threshold die.

Clang the bells in all your spires, On the gray hills of your sires Fling to heaven your signal-fires.

Oh! for G.o.d and duty stand, Heart to heart and hand to hand, Round the old grates of the land.

Whoso shrinks or falters now, Whoso to the yoke would bow, Brand the craven on his brow.

Freedom's soil has only place For a free and fearless race-- None for traitors false and base.

Perish party--perish clan; Strike together while you can, Like the strong arm of one man.