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A MOTHER'S OFFERING TO HER COUNTRY.

AT THE BATTLE OF BELMONT, MO.

NOVEMBER 6TH, '61,

"Tis very hard to let thee go, my son,

And when I think of all which thou must meet-
The peril and the dangers thou must face-
My heart grows faint and bleeds with agony,
And I reach out my clasping arms to hold
Thee back; and while I press the tenderly,
Close to the breast that nourished thee, my child,
I cry, "O, God! I cannot, cannot let him go."

And yet, how can I bid thee stay, my son ?
For when thou wast a little prattling boy
I made a little silken flag for thee,

And, while, with eager joy, you flung its folds
High out into the morning breeze and laughed,
And shouted out, "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”
I told you what its wondrous meaning was,
And how our fathers fought and died for it;
And while you listened, I could see your heart
Throb'd bravely, and your brown eyes grew bright.

Your little form expanded proudly when
I said, "My son must love his country well;
So well that he would rather die than see
Its flag dishonored-trampled in the dust

By traitors!" Then, with firm and steady hand
You pressed its silken folds unto your lips,
And cried, "Hurrah! old flag, I'll sooner die
Than see you trampled 'neath a traitor's foot!"

And so I cannot bid thee stay with me,
In this dark hour of peril, though my heart
Is almost breaking with its weight of fear,
Of what may be, of what may come to thee
While thou'rt away.

I give thee up, my child,

My only child-and I a widow, too

And if thou never should'st come back to me,
But fall a sacrifice unto thy love

Of our dear country, I will try to say,

"Thy will be done, O, God!" 'mid smiles of joy, That I was blest with such a son to give.

CORA MAY.

THE BANNER OF THE SEA.

AT THE CAPTURE OF PORT ROYAL, S. C.
NOVEMBER 7TH, '61.

Of all the flags that float aloft

O'er Neptune's gallant tars,
That wave on high in victory,
Above the sons of Mars,

Give us THE flag-Columbia's flag

The emblem of the free,

Whose flashing stars blazed through our wars
For Truth and Liberty.

Beneath its folds we fear no foe,

Our hearts shall never quail,

With bosoms bare the storm we'll dare,
And brave the battle-gale;

And though the cannon plough our decks,
The planks with gore run red,
Still through the 'fray our flag alway
Shall gleam far overhead.

On every wave, to every shore,
Columbia's flag shall go,

And through all time its fame sublime
With brighter hues shall glow:
For Freedom's standard is our flag,
Its guardians, Freedom's sons,
And woe betide the insulter's pride,
When we unloose our guns.

Its enemies our own shall be,
Upon the land or main;

Its starry light shall gild the fight,
And guide our iron rain.

Nor foreign power nor treason's arts

Shall shake our patriot love,
While with our life, in peace or strife,

We'll keep that flag above

Then dip it lads in ocean's brine,
And give it three times three,
And fling it out 'mid song and shout,

The Banner of the Sea.

ANONYMOUS.

BURIAL HYMN FOR THE UNION SOLDIERS.

AFTER THE BATTLE OF PIKETON, KY.

NOVEMBER 8TH, '61.

CYPRESS shall not o'er thee wave
Laurel only for thy grave;
Muffled drums shall never sound;
But the trumpet thrill around;
Crape shall not our Banner shroud
It shall rustle bright and proud.
Even all the tears that fall,
Only gem thy glorious pall!

For such death as thine is great
Roses filled the hands of Fate;
Honor proudly towered by,
Lightning leaping from her eye;
Glory smiled upon thy form,
Falling in the Battle-Storm;

Sacred heroes of the Past

Swelled thy name upon the blast!

Soldier of the Union, rest!
Lo! a Nation guards thy breast !
With a larger, grand desire,
Freedom sweeps her mighty lyre
Lo! the Immortal in her bloom
Writes upon thy sacred tomb,
"Honor, Glory, UNION, wave
Wreaths eternal o'er thy grave!"

WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE.

VIVA L'AMERICA.

SKIRMISH IN THE KANAWHA VALLEY, VA.,
NOVEMBER 10тн, '61.

NOBLE Republic! happiest of lands,
Foremost of nations Columbia stands;
Freedom's proud banner floats in the skies,
Where shouts of Liberty daily arise.
"United we stand, divided we fall,”
Union forever-freedom to all.

Throughout the world our motto shall be,
Viva l'America, land of the free.

́Should ever traitors rise in the land,
Curs'd be his homestead, wither'd his hand;
Shame be his mem'ry, scorn be his lot,
Exile his heritage, his name a blot;
"United we stand, divided we fall,"
Granting a home and freedom to all.

Throughout the world our motto shall be,
Viva l'America, land of the free

To all her heroes, Justice and Fame,

To all her foes, a traitor's foul name;

Our "Stars and Stripes" still proudly shall wave Emblem of Liberty, flag of the brave.

"United we stand, divided we fall,"

Gladly we'll die at our country's call.

Throughout the world our motto shall be,
Viva l'America, land of the free.

MILLARD

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