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FILL UP THE RANKS, BOYS. 279
" Farewell, farewell, my far-off friend,
Between us broad, blue rivers flow, And forests wave, and plains extend,
And mountains in the sunlight glow. The breeze that blows upon thy brow
Is not the breeze that blows on mine— The moonbeams resting on thee now
Are not the beams that on me shine."
And vet I trust we soon will meet,
When war's dark clouds have passed away; How pleasant then 't will be to greet
The friends of life's bright morning day ; Our vows of love we '11 then renew,
And swift the moments then will fly. I will not speak "the cold adieu,"
But now, my friend, " good-by, good-by."
—♦— FILL UP THE RANKS, BOYS.
BY L. S. W.
YES, fill up the ranks, boys,
Of the brave " American, Guards," And if you follow its colors well,
From fights you ne'er will be debarred;