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We love each tattered rag Of that old war-rent flag Of Liberty!
Flag of great Was.h.i.+ngton!
Flag of brave Anderson!
Flag of each mother's son Who dares be free!
O G.o.d, our banner save!
Make it for ages waves!
G.o.d save our flag!
Preserve its honor pure, Unstained may it endure, And keep our freedom sure; G.o.d save our flag!
Edward Hopper.
_April, 1861._
RALLY SONG
THE BANNER.
Soldier, hast thou halted,-- Shrinking from the foe,-- Friendless, beaten, taunted, Helpless in thy woe?
Rally to the standard!
G.o.d shall surely win!
With Him thou shall triumph Over Death and Sin!
THE WHITE.
Hast thou stumbled, fallen?
Have they pa.s.sed thee by?
In the filth, despairing, Have they let thee lie?
Up! rise up, and follow Yonder folds of white!
Thou shalt share their brightness, Triumph in their light!
THE BLUE.
Dost thou feel the darkness Near the gates of death?
Dost thou shrink in terror At its icy breath?
Lo! the flag is o'er thee With its field of blue!
It shall guide thee homewards!
Man, thy G.o.d is true!
THE RED CROSS.
Is the conflict bitter?
Art thou faint; at last, Struggling, panting, straining, Foul fiends hold thee fast?
Rouse thyself and smite them!
Raise thy standard high!
See, its cross is o'er thee!
Christ, the Lord, is nigh!
THE SPADE AND ANCHOR.
Christian, hast thou left us-- Left the battle line?
Idling, straggling, wand'ring, Heedless of the sign?
Hark! the trumpet calls thee!
With us heart and hand Raise the Spade and Anchor!
Strike for Sea and Land!
John Hopkins Denison.
THE SHADOW OF THE WALL
Let us stay a while and listen to the voices of the past, Softly echoing, vaguely lingering, e'er they fade away at last, Dreaming in a dusky corner of the quaint, blue-panelled pew While the ma.s.sive walls of granite shut the hurrying crowds from view, And the street's loud clang and clatter, screams of rage and cries of pain, And the endless plodding, thudding, of tired feet in quest of gain m.u.f.fled by a shroud of silence sounds a thousand miles away, And the past is hovering round us with its ghostly, dim array, Flitting by in vague procession, up the aisleway, down the hall, While we lurk here, snugly sheltered, shadowed by the ma.s.sive wall.
Stately dominies, wig-powdered, all in gowns of silk arrayed; Fairest dames, slim and high-waisted, clad in flowered, quaint brocade; Smart young captains, bold as pirates, with their slaves all gaunt and black; Stout old Dutchmen and their ladies, gowned as in a miller's sack-- How they flit past in the gloaming, thru the huge, high-vaulted hall, While we lurk here, snugly sheltered, shadowed by the ma.s.sive wall.
Others come, some wan and haggard, heavy-lined and weary-eyed; Some with faces flushed and fevered, hearts aflame and hands fast tied.
Others stand with frozen heart-strings, bitter, haughty, desolate; Some creep past in shame, fresh quivering from some thrust of scorn or hate.
In they throng, all seeking respite from the cruel world's maddening call, Seeking peace in the dim silence, shadowed by the ma.s.sive wall.
Other voices, sweet and child-like, linger in the dusky vault, Cries of babes and tiny maidens, sweet since free from conscious fault, Here they gather, brown and rosy, golden-haired and crowned with jet, Glowing cheeks and eyes that dance, where innocence and joy are met.
While without are screams and curses, loathsome vice and drunken brawls, Here within, G.o.d's flowers are sheltered in the shadow of these walls.
Still they stand, a hold unshaken, while the turbid stream of life Swirls around their bulwarks, brawling, black with sin, with sorrows rife, While still from the dizzy whirlpool drowning souls creep to the door; For the House of G.o.d, unchanging, stands now and forevermore.
Struggling in life's lonely battle, wounded, faint with many falls We have found a mighty fortress in the shadow of these walls.
John Hopkins Denison.
MINISTERS
_Market Street Dutch Reformed Church_
1820-1835 William McMurray, D.D. [+] 1835.
1836-1853 Isaac Ferris, D.D., [+] 1873.
1853-1860 Theodore Ledyard Cuyler, D.D., [+] 1909.
1861-1862 Chauncey D. Murray.
