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Poems of American Patriotism Part 11

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[Sidenote: 1861]

Loaded with gallant soldiers, A boat shot in to the land, And lay at the right of Rodman's Point With her keel upon the sand.

Lightly, gayly, they came to sh.o.r.e, And never a man afraid; When sudden the enemy opened fire From his deadly ambuscade.

Each man fell flat on the bottom Of the boat; and the captain said: "If we lie here, we all are captured, And the first who moves is dead!"

Then out spoke a negro sailor, No slavish soul had he; "Somebody's got to die, boys, And it might as well be me!"

Firmly he rose, and fearlessly Stepped out into the tide; He pushed the vessel safely off, Then fell across her side:

Fell, pierced by a dozen bullets, As the boat swung clear and free;-- But there wasn't a man of them that day Who was fitter to die than he!

"HOW ARE YOU, SANITARY"

BRET HAUTE

[Sidenote: 1861-1865]

_Early in the war was organized the U. S. Sanitary Commission, to supply comforts to the soldier in the field from the voluntary contributions of the men and women at home. Out of this grew the Red-Cross a.s.sociations of Europe._

Down the picket-guarded lane Rolled the comfort-laden wain, Cheered by shouts that shook the plain, Soldier-like and merry: Phrases such as camps may teach, Sabre-cuts of Saxon speech, Such as "Bully!" "Them's the peach!"

"Wade in, Sanitary!"

Right and left the caissons drew As the car went lumbering through, Quick succeeding in review Squadrons military; Sunburnt men with beards like frieze, Smooth-faced boys, and cries like these,-- "U. S. San. Com." "That's the cheese!"

"Pa.s.s in, Sanitary!"

In such cheer it struggled on Till the battle front was won, Then the car, its journey done, Lo! was stationary; And where bullets whistling fly, Came the sadder, fainter cry, "Help us, brothers, ere we die,-- Save us, Sanitary!"

Such the work. The phantom flies, Wrapped in battle clouds that rise; But the brave--whose dying eyes, Veiled and visionary, See the jasper gates swung wide, See the parted throng outside-- Hears the voice to those who ride: "Pa.s.s in, Sanitary!"

SONG OF THE SOLDIERS

CHARLES G. HALPINE

[Sidenote: 1861-1865]

Comrades known in marches many, Comrades, tried in dangers many, Comrades, bound by memories many, Brothers let us be.

Wounds or sickness may divide us, Marching orders may divide us, But whatever fate betide us, Brothers of the heart are we.

Comrades, known by faith the clearest, Tried when death was near and nearest, Bound we are by ties the dearest, Brothers evermore to be.

And, if spared, and growing older, Shoulder still in line with shoulder, And with hearts no thrill the colder, Brothers ever we shall be.

By communion of the banner,-- Crimson, white, and starry banner,-- By the baptism of the banner, Children of one Church are we.

Creed nor faction can divide us, Race nor language can divide us Still, whatever fate betide us, Children of the flag are we.

JONATHAN TO JOHN

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

[Sidenote: Jan 6. 1862]

_This poetic effusion of Mr. Hosea Biglow was preceded by the "Idyl of the Bridge and the Monument," which set forth another side of American feeling at the British words and deeds consequent on the unauthorized capture, by Commodore Wilkes, of the "Trent,"

conveying to England two Confederate Commissioners._

It don't seem hardly right, John, When both my hands was full, To stump me to a fight, John,-- Your cousin, tu, John Bull!

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess We know it now," sez he, "The lion's paw is all the law, Accordin' to J. B., Thet's fit for you an' me!"

You wonder why we're hot, John?

Your mark wuz on the guns, The neutral guns, thet shot, John, Our brothers an' our sons: Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess There's human blood," sez he, "By fits an' starts, in Yankee hearts, Though 't may surprise J. B.

More 'n it would you an' me."

Ef _I_ turned mad dogs loose, John, On _your_ front-parlor stairs, Would it jest meet your views, John, To wait and sue their heirs?

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess, I only guess," sez he, "Thet ef Vattel on _his_ toes fell, 'Twould kind o' rile J. B., Ez wal ez you an' me!"

Who made the law thet hurts, John, _Heads I win,--ditto tails?_ "J. B." was on his s.h.i.+rts, John, Onless my memory fails, Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess (I'm good at thet)," sez he, "Thet sauce for goose ain't _jest_ the juice For ganders with J. B., No more than you or me!"

When your rights was our wrongs, John, You didn't stop for fuss,-- Britanny's trident p.r.o.ngs, John, Was good 'nough law for us.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess, Though physic's good," sez he, "It doesn't foller that he can swaller Prescriptions signed 'J. B.,'

Put up by you an' me!"

We own the ocean, tu, John: You mus'n' take it hard, Ef we can't think with you, John, It's jest your own back-yard.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess, Ef _thet's_ his claim," sez he, "The fencin'-stuff 'll cost enough To bust up friend J. B., Ez wal ez you an' me!"

Why talk so dreffle big, John, Of honor when it meant You didn't care a fig, John, But jest for _ten per cent?_ Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess He's like the rest," sez he: "When all is done, it's number one Thet's nearest to J. B., Ez wal ez you an' me!"

We give the critters back, John, Cos Abram thought 'twas right; It warn't your bullyin' clack, John, Provokin' us to fight.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess We've a hard row," sez he, "To hoe jest now; but thet somehow, May happen to J. B., Ez wal ez you an' me!"

We ain't so weak an' poor, John, With twenty million people, An' close to every door, John, A school-house an' a steeple.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess It is a fact," sez he, "The surest plan to make a Man Is, think him so, J. B., Ez much ez you or me!"

Our folks believe in Law, John; An' it's for her sake, now, They've left the ax an' saw, John, The anvil an' the plough.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess, Ef 'twarn't for law," sez he, "There'd be one s.h.i.+ndy from here to Indy, An' thet don't suit J. B.

(When 'tain't 'twixt you an' me!)"

We know we've got a cause, John, Thet's honest, just an' true; We thought 'twould win applause, John, Ef nowheres else, from you.

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Poems of American Patriotism Part 11 summary

You're reading Poems of American Patriotism. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Brander Matthews. Already has 676 views.

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