One word more-for signal token Out from many a mud-wall cabin Eyes were watching through that night; There beside the singing river That dark mass of men was seen; Far above the shining weapons Hung their own beloved green. "Death to every foe and traitor! Forward! strike the marchin' tune, And hurrah, my boys, for freedom!'T is the risin' of the moon." Well they fought for poor old Ireland, Hearts in manhood's burning noon, Who would follow in their footsteps JOHN K. CASEY. My Maryland. THE despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland! His torch is at thy temple door, Maryland! Avenge the patriotic gore That flecked the streets of Baltimore, of yore, And be the battle queen Maryland, My Maryland! Hark to a wandering son's appeal, My mother state, to thee I kneel, Maryland! For life and death, for woe and weal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Thou wilt not cower in the dust, Maryland! Thy beaming sword shall never rust, Maryland! Remember Carroll's sacred trust, Come, 't is the red dawn of the day, Maryland! Come with thy panoplied array, Maryland! With Ringgold's spirit for the fray, Dear mother, burst the tyrant's chain, Maryland! Virginia should not call in vain, Maryland! She meets her sisters on the plain; "Sic semper!" 't is the proud refrain, That baffles minions back amain, Come, for thy shield is bright and strong, Come, for thy dalliance does thee wrong, Come to thine own heroic throng, I see the blush upon thy cheek, Maryland! But thou wast ever bravely meek, Maryland! But lo! there surges forth a shriek From hill to hill, from creek to creek; Maryland, My Maryland! Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll, Maryland! Thou wilt not crook to his control, Maryland! Better the fire upon thee roll, Better the shot, the blade, the bowl, Than crucifixion of the soul, Maryland, My Maryland! I hear the distant thunder hum, Maryland! The Old Line's bugle, fi'e, and drum, Maryland! She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum; She breathes, she burns--she 'll come! she 'll come! Maryland, My Maryland! JAMES R. RANDALL. Civil War. "RIFLEMAN, shoot me a fancy shot Straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette; Ring me a ball in the glittering spot That shines on his breast like an amulet!” "Ah, captain! here goes for a fine-drawn bead, There's music around when my barrel 's in tune!” Crack! went the rifle, the messenger sped, And dead from his horse fell the ringing dragoon. "Now, rifleman, steal through the bushes, and snatch From your victim some trinket to handsel first blood; A button, a loop, or that luminous patch That gleams in the moon like a diamond stud!” "Oh captain! I staggered, and sunk on my track, When I gazed on the face of that fallen vidette, For he looked so like you, as he lay on his back, That my heart rose upon me, and masters me yet. "But I snatched off the trinket,—this locket of gold; "Ha! rifleman, fling me the locket!—'t is she, My brother's young bride,—and the fallen dragoon Was her husband-Hush! soldier, 't was Heaven's decree, We must bury him there, by the light of the moon! "But, hark! the far bugles their warnings unite; There's a lurking and loping around us to-night;— ANONYMOUS. 66 The Picket Euard. ALL quiet along the Potomac," they say, 66 'Except now and then a stray picket Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro, All quiet along the Potomac to-night, Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming; Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, Or the light of the watch-fires, are gleaming. A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night-wind Through the forest-leaves softly is creeping; While stars up above, with their glittering eyes, Keep guard-for the army is sleeping. There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread, As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep— The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then, Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, And gathers his gun closer up to its place |