And higher, higher, higher, burned the old fashioned fire Through the ranks! Then the old-fashioned Colonel His broad-sword was swinging, Then the blue Bullets flew, And the trooper-jackets redden at the touch of the leaden Rifle-breath; And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared our iron six-pounder, Hurling death! GUY HUMPHREYS McMaster. The American Flag (Extract) When Freedom from her mountain height She tore the azure robe of night, New World and Old Glory New World and Old Glory And striped its pure, celestial white, Flag of the free heart's hope and home! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us! Old Ironsides (U. S. S. "Constitution.") Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, Beneath it rung the battle shout, The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee; Oh, better that her shattered hulk And give her to the god of storms, OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. New World and Old Glory Indians Alas! for them, their day is o'er, Their fires are out on hill and shore; No more for them the wild deer bounds, The pale man's axe rings through their woods, New Their pleasant springs are dry; and Old Their children go to die. CHARLES SPRAGUE. Crossing the Plains* What great yoked brutes with briskets low; With round, brown, liquid, pleading eyes, Two sullen bullocks led the line, Their great eyes shining bright like wine; That had in time held herds at bay, And even now they crushed the sod And stately stepped and stately trod, * From "The Complete Poetical Works of Joaquin Miller" (copyrighted). By permission of the publishers. The Whitaker-Ray Company, San Francisco. As if 't were something still to be Kings even in captivity. JOAQUIN MILLER. Concord Hymn Sung at the completion of the Battle Monument, By the rude bridge that arched the flood, The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On the green bank, by this soft stream, Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die, and leave their children free, RALPH WALDO EMERSON. New World and Old Glory |