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Her tearful memories treasured;

Fast spread the tempest's darkening pall,

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The tories seize the omen : 'Ay, boys, you'll soon have work to do

For England's rebel foemen, 'King Hancock,' Adams, and their gang,

That fire the mob with treason,

The mighty realms were When these we shoot and those

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And out the cursed cargo Old charters shrivel in its track, His Worship's bench has crumbled,

leaps,

And overboard it pitches!
O woman, at the evening board
So gracious, sweet, and purr-
ing,

So happy while the tea is
poured,

So blest while spoons are stirring,

What martyr can compare with

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It climbs and clasps the unionjack,

Its blazoned pomp is humbled, The flags go down on land and

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Hearing the Snow-Line.

SLOW toiling upward from the misty vale,
I leave the bright enamelled zones below;
No more for me their beauteous bloom shall glow,
Their lingering sweetness load the morning gale;
Few are the slender flowerets, scentless, pale,

That on their ice-clad stems all trembling blow
Along the margin of unmelting snow;
Yet with unsaddened voice thy verge I hail,
White realm of peace above the flowering line;
Welcome thy frozen domes, thy rocky spires !

O'er thee undimmed the moon-girt planets shine,
On thy majestic altars fade the fires

That filled the air with smoke of vain desires,

And all the unclouded blue of heaven is thine!

1870.

IN WAR TIME.

To Canaan.

A PURITAN WAR-SONG.

WHERE are you going, soldiers,

With banner, gun, and sword?
We're marching South to Canaan
To battle for the Lord!
What Captain leads your armies
Along the rebel coasts?
The Mighty One of Israel,

His name is Lord of Hosts!
To Canaan, to Canaan

The Lord has led us forth,
To blow before the heathen
walls

The trumpets of the North!

What flag is this you carry
Along the sea and shore?
The same our grandsires lifted
up,-

The same our fathers bore!
In many a battle's tempest

It shed the crimson rain,What God has woven in His loom

Let no man rend in twain !

To Canaan, to Canaan
The Lord has led us forth,
To plant upon the rebel

towers

The banners of the North!

What troop is this that follows,

All armed with picks and spades? 1

These are the swarthy bonds

men,

The iron-skin brigades! They'll pile up Freedom's breastwork, They'll scoop

graves;

Who then will be their owner
And march them off for slaves?
To Canaan, to Canaan
The Lord has led us forth,
To strike upon the captive's
chain

The hammers of the North!

What song is this you're singing?

The same that Israel sung When Moses led the mighty choir,

And Miriam's timbrel rung! To Canaan! To Canaan !

The priests and maidens cried: To Canaan! To Canaan! The people's voice replied. To Canaan, to Canaan The Lord has led us forth, To thunder through its adder dens

The anthems of the North!

When Canaan's hosts are scattered,

And all her walls lie flat, What follows next in order?

-The Lord will see to that! We'll break the tyrant's sceptre, We'll build the people's

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out

rebels'

August 12, 1862.

1 The captured slaves were at this time organised as pioneers.

the

"Thus saith the Lord, 3 Offer Thee Three Things."

IN poisonous dens, where traitors hide
Like bats that fear the day,

While all the land our charters claim
Is sweating blood and breathing flame,
Dead to their country's woe and shame,
The recreants whisper STAY!

In peaceful homes, where patriot fires
On Love's own altars glow,

The mother hides her trembling fear,
The wife, the sister, checks a tear,
To breathe the parting word of cheer,
Soldier of Freedom, Go!

In halls where Luxury lies at ease,

And Maimon keeps his state,
Where flatterers fawn and menials crouch,
The dreamer, startled from his couch,
Wrings a few counters from his pouch,
And murmurs faintly WAIT!

In weary camps, on trampled plains
That ring with fife and drum,
The battling host, whose harness gleams
Along the crimson-flowing streams,
Calls, like a warning voice in dreams,
We want you, Brother! COME !
Choose ye whose bidding ye will do,-
To go, to wait, to stay!
Sons of the Freedom-loving town,
Heirs of the Fathers' old renown,
The servile yoke, the civic crown,
Await your choice TO-DAY!

The stake is laid! O gallant youth
With yet unsilvered brow,

If Heaven should lose and Hell should win,

On whom shall lie the mortal sin,

That cries aloud, It might have been?

1862.

God calls you-answer NOW.

Never or Mow.

AN APPEAL.

LISTEN, young heroes! your country is calling!
Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true!

Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling,
Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!
You whom the fathers made free and defended,
Stain not the scroll that emblazons their fame!
You whose fair heritage spotless descended,

Leave not your children a birthright of shame!
Stay not for questions while Freedom stands gasping !
Wait not till Honour lies wrapped in his pall!
Brief the lips' meeting be, swift the hands' clasping,-
"Off for the wars!" is enough for them all!
Break from the arms that would fondly caress you!
Hark! 'tis the bugle-blast, sabres are drawn !
Mothers shall pray for you, fathers shall bless you,
Maidens shall weep for you when you are gone!

Never or now! cries the blood of a nation,

Poured on the turf where the red rose should bloom; Now is the day and the hour of salvation,

Never or now! peals the trumpet of doom!

Never or now! roars the hoarse-throated cannon
Through the black canopy blotting the skies;
Never or now! flaps the shell-blasted pennon
O'er the deep ooze where the Cumberland lies!
From the foul dens where our brothers are dying,
Aliens and foes in the land of their birth,—
From the rank swamps where our martyrs are lying
Pleading in vain for a handful of earth,-

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From the hot plains where they perish outnumbered, Furrowed and ridged by the battlefield's plough, Comes the loud summons; too long you have slumbered, Hear the last Angel-trump,-Never or Now!

1862.

One Country.

ONE country! Treason's writhing asp

Struck madly at her girdle's clasp,

And Hatred wrenched with might and main

To rend its welded links in twain,

While Mammon hugged his golden calf

Content to take one broken half,

While thankless churls stood idly by

And heard unmoved a nation's cry!

One country! 66

'Nay," the tyrant crew Shrieked from their dens,-"it shall be two!

Ill bodes to us this monstrous birth,

That scowls on all the thrones of earth,

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