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'But, General," cried the veteran, a flush upon his brow,
"The very men who fought with us, they say are traitors now: They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old red, white and blue,
And while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop is true.
"I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a good old gun,
"God bless you, comrade!" said the Chief,-"God bless your loyal heart!
But younger men are in the field, and claim to have a part;
“But, General!”—still persisting, the weeping veteran cried, "I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my guide; And some you know must bite the dust, and that, at least, can I; So, give the young ones place to fight, but me a place to die!
"If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in command
"I'm ready, General; so you let a post to me be given. Where Washington can look at me, as he looks down from heaven. And say to Putnam at his side, or, may be, General Wayne
There stands old Billy Johnson, who fought at Lundy's Lane!'
"And when the fight is raging hot, before the traitors fly-
JOHN G. WHITTIER.
UP from the meadows rich with corn,
The cluster'd spires of Frederick stand,
Round about them orchards sweep,
Fair as a garden of the Lord,
On that pleasant morn of the early Fall,
Over the mountains winding down,
Forty flags with their silver stars,
Flapp'd in the morning wind: the sun
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
In her attic window the staff she set,
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Under his slouch'd hat left and right
Over Barbara Frietchie's grave,
Peace and order and beauty draw
And ever the stars above look down
"I WOULDN'T-WOULD YOU."
WHEN a lady is seen at a party or ball,-
Are enchained by her charms and would kneel at her feet,
When an upstart is seen on the flags strutting out,
With his hat cock'd aslant, and a glass in his eye; And thick clouds of foul smoke he stands puffing about,
As he inwardly says, "what a noble am I,”— While he twists his moustache for the ladies to view; I wouldn't give much for his senses :—would you ?—
When a wife runs about at her neighbors to pry,
Leaving children at home, unprotected to play ; Till she starts back in haste at the sound of their cry,
And finds they've been fighting while mother's away, Sugar eaten panes broken-the wind blowing through; I wouldn't give much for her comfort :—would you?
When a husband is idle, neglecting his work,
In the public-house snarling with quarrelsome knaves; When he gambles with simpletons, drinks like a Turk,
While his good wife at home for his poor children slaves; And that home is quite destitute-painful to view; I wouldn't give much for his morals-would you?
"I WOULDN'T-WOULD YOU?"
When a boy at his school, lounging over his seat,
Yet pretendeth to read when his master may look,
When a man who is driving a horse on the road,
Reins and whips the poor brute with unmerciful hand,
Till with suff'ring and working it scarcely can stand;
When a master who lives by his laborers' skill,
Hoards his gold up in thousands, still craving for more, Though poor are his toilers he grindeth them still,
Or unfeelingly turns them away from his door; Though he banketh his millions with claims not a few ; I wouldn't give much for his conscience:—would you?
When a tradesman his neighbor's fair terms will decry,
Though customers flock to him early and late; When a few months have fled and large bills become due, I wouldn't give much for his credit :—would you?
When in murderous deeds a man's hands are imbrued.
And the mind, self-accusing, can never be heal'd ;—
When a husband and wife keep their secrets apart,