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Such were the soldiers that scaled | First in the field that is farthest from

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home Ranger!

danger,

Take your white-feather plume, sweet little man!

UNION AND LIBERTY.

FLAG of the heroes who left us their glory,

Borne through their battle-fields' thunder and flame,

Blazoned in song and illumined in story, Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame !

Up with our banner bright, Sprinkled with starry light, Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore,

While through the sounding sky Loud rings the Nation's cry, UNION AND LIBERTY! ONE EVERMORE!

Light of our firmament, guide of our Nation,

Pride of her children, and honored

afar,

Let the wide beams of thy full constellation

Scatter each cloud that would darken

a star!

Up with our banner bright, etc.

Empire unsceptred! what foe shall assail thee,

Bearing the standard of Liberty's

van?

Think not the God of thy fathers shall fail thee,

Striving with men for the birthright

of man !

Up with our banner bright, etc.

Blow the great fish-horn and beat the Yet if, by madness and treachery

big pan !

blighted,

Dawns the dark hour when the sword | Thou hast united us, who shall divide

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POEMS

FROM THE

AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE.

1857-1858.

THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS.

THIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,

Sails the unshadowed main,
The venturous bark that flings

On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings

In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,

And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to
dwell,

Stole with soft step its shining archway through,

Built up its idle door,

Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,

Child of the wandering sea,

Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born

Than ever Triton blew from wreathéd horn!

While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:

As the frail tenant shaped his growing Build thee more stately mansions, O my

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He left the past year's dwelling for the Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's

new,

unresting sea!

SUN AND SHADOW.

As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green,

To the billows of foam-crested blue, Yon bark, that afar in the distance is

seen,

Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue : Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the spray

As the chaff in the stroke of the flail; Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her way,

The sun gleaming bright on her sail.

Yet her pilot is thinking of dangers to shun,

Of breakers that whiten and roar ; How little he cares, if in shadow or sun They see him who gaze from the shore ! He looks to the beacon that looms from the reef,

To the rock that is under his lee, As he drifts on the blast, like a windwafted leaf,

O'er the gulfs of the desolate sea.

Thus drifting afar to the dim-vaulted

caves

Where life and its ventures are laid, The dreamers who gaze while we battle

the waves

May see us in sunshine or shade; Yet true to our course, though the

shadows grow dark,

We'll trim our broad sail as before, And stand by the rudder that governs the bark,

Nor ask how we look from the shore !

THE TWO ARMIES.

As Life's unending column pours, Two marshalled hosts are seen, Two armies on the trampled shores

That Death flows black between.

One marches to the drum-beat's roll,

The wide-mouthed clarion's bray, And bears upon a crimson scroll, "Our glory is to slay."

One moves in silence by the stream,

With sad, yet watchful eyes, Calm as the patient planet's gleam That walks the clouded skies.

Along its front no sabres shine,

No blood-red pennons wave; Its banner bears the single line, "Our duty is to save."

For those no death-bed's lingering shade;
At Honor's trumpet-call,
With knitted brow and lifted blade
In Glory's arms they fall.

For these no clashing falchions bright,
No stirring battle-cry;
The bloodless stabber calls by night, —
Each answers, "Here am I !"

For those the sculptor's laurelled bust,
The builder's marble piles,
The anthems pealing o'er their dust
Through long cathedral aisles.

For these the blossom-sprinkled turf
That floods the lonely graves
When Spring rolls in her sea-green surf
In flowery-foaming waves.

Two paths lead upward from below,
And angels wait above,
Who count each burning life-drop's flow,
Each falling tear of Love.

Though from the Hero's bleeding breast
Her pulses Freedom drew,
Though the white lilies in her crest
Sprang from that scarlet dew, -

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