PATRIOTIC 60NGS AND Mi mines.
He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, and thought
it no wrong,
From some secessionist's dwelling.
" What regiment's yours? and under whose flag
Do you fight?" said I, touching his shoulder;
Turning slowly around, he smilingly said,
For the thought made him stronger and bolder,
" I fights init Sigel.'"
The next tune I saw him his knapsack was gone,
His cap and canteen were missing,
Shell, s'm-apnel, and grape, and the swift rifle-
Around him, and o'er him, were hissing.
" How are you, my friend, and where have you
And for what, and for whom are you fighting ?"
He said, as a shell from the enemy's gun
Sent his arm and his musket a " kiting:"
" I fights mit Sigel.'"
And once more I saw him and knelt by his side ;
His life-blood was rapidly flowing;
I whispered of home, wife, children, and friends,
The bright land to which he was going;
"And have you no word for the dear ones at
The ' wee one,' the father or mother ?"
" Yaw ! yaw !" said he, " tell them ! oh, tell them
I fights !"—
Poor fellow ! he thought of no other—
" I fights mit Sigel!"
We scraped out a grave, and he dreamlessly
On the banks of the Shenandoah River ;
His home or his kindred alike are unknown,
His reward in the hands of the Giver.
We placed a rough board at the head of his
" And we left him alone in his glory."
Eiit on it we marked, ere we turned from the
The little we knew of his story :
" I fights mit Sigel!"
BY JOHN G. NICOLAY.
In the black terror-night,
On yon mist-shrouded hill,
Slowly, with footsteps light,
Stealthy and grim and still,
Like ghost in winding sheet
Risen at midnight bell,
Over his lonely beat
Marches the sentinel!
la storm-defying cloak—
Hand on his trusty gun—
Heart, like a heart of oak—
Eye, never-setting sun;
Speaks but the challenge-shout,
All foes without the line.
Heeds but to solve the doubt,
Watchword and countersign.
Campward the watchfires gleam
Beacon-like in the gloom ;
Round them his comrades dream
Pictures of youth and home.
While in his heart the bright
Hope-fires shine everywhere,
In love's enchanting light
Memory lies dreaming there.
faint, through the silence come
From the foe's grim array,
Growl of impatient drum
Eager for morrow's fray
Echo of song and shout,
Curse and carousal glee,
As in a fiendish rout
Demons at revelry.
Close, in the gloomy shade
Danger lurks ever nigh—
Grasping his dagger-blade
Crouches the assassin spy ,
Shrinks at the guardsman's tread,
Quails 'fore his gleaming eyes,
Creeps back with baffled hate,
Cursing his cowardice.
Naught can beguile his bold,
E'en in the fire-flame, old
Visions unheeded dance.
Fearless of lurking spy,
Scornful of wassail-swell,
With an undaunted eye
Marches the sentinel.
Low, to his trusty gun
Eagerly whispers he,
" Wait, with the morning sun
March we to victory.
Fools, into Satan's clutch
Leaping ere dawn of day :
He who would fight must watch,
He who would win must pray."
Pray ! for the night hath wings
Watch ! for the foe is near;
March! till the morning brings
Fame-wreath or soldier's bier.
So shall the poet write,
When all hath ended well,
" Thus through the nation's night
Marched Freedom's sentinel."
■---------» • •----------
OUR COUNTRY AND HER FLAG.
BY FRANCIS LIEBEK.
Tune— Oaudeamus ipitur; or, Mnfrelet Zeban
We do not hate our enemy—
May God deal gently with us all •
We love our land, we fight her foe'
We hate his cause, and that must fall
Our country is a goodly land
We'll keep her ahvay whole and hale •