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By your hearth-stones, by your dead, By all the fields where patriots hied, A freeman's home or gory bed
Let the alternate be. Weeping- wives and mothers here, Sisters, daughters, dear ones near— Seas of blood for every tear,
God and Liberty!
Louder swells the battle-cry,
Flaming- sword and flashing eye
Light the field when freemen die!
Death or Liberty !
Backward roll your poisonous waves,
Infidel and ruffian slaves !
"lis Heaven's own wrath your blindness braves—
God and Liberty!
c.
Washington, D. C. |
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WOULD'ST THOU HAVE ME LOVE THEE ? By Alex. B. Meek, Mobile, Ala.
Would'st thou have me love thee, dearest,
With a woman's proudest heart, Which shall ever hold thee nearest
Shrined in its inmost heart ? Listen, then ! My country's calling
On her sons to meet the foe ! Leave these groves of rose and myrtle;
Drop tlry dreamy harp of love! Like young Korner—scorn the turtle,
When the eagle screams above! |
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