The American Union Speaker Part 63

The hour is at hand, and the moment draws nigh!

The dog-star of treason grows dim in the sky!

s.h.i.+ne forth from the battle-cloud, light of the morn, Call back the bright hour when the Nation was born!

The rivers of peace through our valleys shall run, As the glaciers of tyranny melt in the sun; Smite, smite the proud parricide down from his throne,-- His sceptre once broken, the world is our own!

O. W. Holmes.

CCCXLI.

VOYAGE OF THE GOOD s.h.i.+P UNION.

'Tis midnight: through my troubled dream Loud wails the tempest's cry; Before the gale, with tattered sail, A s.h.i.+p goes plunging by.

What name? Where bound? The rocks around Repeat the loud halloo.

--The good s.h.i.+p Union, Southward bound: G.o.d help her and her crew!

And is the old flag flying still That o'er your fathers flew, With bands of white and rosy light, And field of starry blue?

--Ay! look aloft! its folds full oft Have braved the roaring blast, And still shall fly when from thy sky This black typhoon has past!

Speak, pilot of the storm-tost bark!

May I thy peril share?

--O landsman, these are fearful seas The brave alone may dare!

--Nay, ruler of the rebel deep, What matters wind or wave?

The rocks that wreck your reeling deck Will leave me nought to save!

O landsman, art thou false or true?

What sign hast thou to show?

--The crimson stains from loyal veins That hold my heart-blood's flow!

--Enough! what more shall honor claim?

I know the sacred sign; Above thy head our flag shall spread!

Our ocean path be thine!

The bark sails on; the Pilgrim's cape Lies low along her lee, Whose headland crooks its anchor-flukes To lock the sh.o.r.e and sea.

No treason here! it cost too dear To win this barren realm!

And true and free the hands must be That hold the whaler's helm.

Still on! Manhattan's narrowing bay No Rebel cruiser scars; Her raters feel no pirate's keel That flaunts the fallen stars!

But watch the light on yonder height,-- Ay, pilot, have a care!

Some lingering cloud in mist may shroud The capes of Delaware!

Say, pilot, what this fort may be, Whose sentinels look down From moated wails that show the sea Their deep embrasures' frown?

The Rebel host claims all the coast, But these are friends, we know, Whose footprints spoil the "sacred soil,"

And this is?--Fort Monroe!

The breakers roar,--how bears the sh.o.r.e?

--The traitorous wreckers' hands Have quenched the blaze that poured its rays Along the Hatteras sands.

--Ha! say not so! I see its glow!

Again the shoals display The beacon light that s.h.i.+nes by night, The Union Stars by day!

The good s.h.i.+p flies to milder skies, The wave more gently flows; The softening breeze wafts o'er the seas The breath of Beaufort's rose.

What fold is this the sweet winds kiss, Fair-striped and many-starred, Whose shadow palls these orphaned walls, The twins of Beauregard?

What! heard you not Port Royal's doom?

How the black war-s.h.i.+ps came And turned the Beaufort roses' bloom To redder wreaths of flame?

How from Rebellion's broken reed We saw his emblem fall, As soon his cursed poison-weed Shall drop from Sumter's wall?

On! on! Pulaski's iron hail Falls harmless on Tybee!

Her topsails feel the freshening gale,-- She strikes the open sea; She rounds the point, she threads the Keys That guard the Land of Flowers, And rides at last where firm and fast Her own Gibraltar towers!

The good s.h.i.+p Union's voyage is o'er, At anchor safe she swings, And loud and clear with cheer on cheer Her joyous welcome rings: Hurrah! Hurrah! it shakes the wave, It thunders on the sh.o.r.e,-- One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, One Nation, evermore!

O. W. Holmes.

CCCXLII.

THE STRIPES AND THE STARS.

O Star Spangled Banner! the flag of our pride!

Though trampled by traitors and basely defied, Fling out to the glad winds your Red, White, and Blue, For the heart of the North-land is beating for you!

And her strong arm is nerving to strike with a will Till the foe and his boastings are humbled and still!

Here's welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death--for the Stripes and the Stars!

From prairie, O ploughman! speed boldly away-- There's seed to be sown in G.o.d's furrows to-day-- Row landward, lone fisher! stout woodman, come home!

Let smith leave his anvil and weaver his loom, And hamlet and city ring loud with the cry, "For G.o.d and our country we'll fight till we die!

Here's welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death--for the Stripes and the Stars!"

Invincible Banner! the Flag of the Free!

O, where treads the foot that would falter for thee?

Or the hands to be folded, till triumph is won And the eagle looks proud, as of old, to the sun?

Give tears for the parting--a murmur of prayer-- Then Forward! the fame of our standard to share!

With welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death--for the Stripes and the Stars!

O G.o.d of our Fathers! this Banner must s.h.i.+ne Where battle is hottest, in warfare divine!

The cannon has thundered, the bugle has blown,-- We fear not the summons--we fight not alone!

O, lead us, till wide from the Gulf to the Sea The land shall be sacred to Freedom and Thee!

With love, for oppression; with blessing, for scars-- One Country--one Banner--the Stripes and the Stars!

E. D. Proctor.

CCCXLIII.

WHO'S READY?

G.o.d help us! Who's ready? There's danger before!

Who's armed and who's mounted? The foe's at the door!

The smoke of his cannon hangs black o'er the plain; His shouts ring exultant while counting our slain; And northward and northward he presses his line,-- Who's ready? O, forward!--for yours and for mine!

No halting, no discord, the moments are Fates; To shame or to glory they open the gates!

There's all we hold dearest to lose or to win; The web of the future to-day we must spin; And bid the hours follow with knell or with chime!-- Who's ready? O, forward!--while yet there is time!