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The hero in our four months' woe,
The symbol of our might,
Together sunk for one brief hour,
To rise forever bright.

The mind of Cromwell claimed his own,
The blood of Naseby streamed
Through hearts unconscious of the fire
Till that torn banner gleamed.
The seeds of Milton's lofty thoughts,
All hopeless of the spring,

Broke forth in joy, as through them glowed
The life great poets sing.

Old Greece was young, and Homer true,
And Dante's burning page
Flamed in the red along our flag,
And kindled holy rage.

God's Gospel cheered the sacred cause,
In stern, prophetic strain,

Which makes His Right our covenant,
His Psalms our deep refrain.

Oh, sad for him whose light went out
Before this glory came,
Who could not live to feel his kin
To every noble name;
And sadder still to miss the joy
That twenty millions know,
In Human Nature's Holiday,
From all that makes life low.

Boston Transcript, April, 1861.

APOCALYPSE.

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APOCALYPSE.*

BY CLARENCE BUTLER.

STRAIGHT to his heart the bullet crushed,
Down from his breast the red blood gushed,
And o'er his face a glory rushed.

A sudden spasm rent his frame,
And in his ears there went and came
A sound as of devouring flame.

Which in a moment ceased, and then
The great light clasped his brows again,
So that they shone like Stephen's, when

Saul stood apart a little space,
And shook with shuddering awe to trace
God's splendor settling o'er his face.

Thus, like a king, erect in pride, Raising his hands to heaven, he cried, "All hail the Stars and Stripes!" and died.

Died grandly; but, before he fell,
(O blessedness ineffable!)
Vision apocalyptical

Was granted to him, and his eyes,
All radiant with glad surprise,

Looked forward through the centuries,

* After the bombardment and evacuation of Fort Sumter, the 6th Regiment of Massachusetts militia was the first that moved to the defence of Washington. It was attacked on the 19th of April by a mob in the streets of Baltimore, and two of its members killed and eight wounded; one of the former, Luther C. Ladd, cheered the flag with his dying breath.

And saw the seeds that sages cast
In the world's soil in cycles past,
Spring up and blossom at the last:

Saw how the souls of men had grown,
And where the scythes of Truth had mown,
Clear space for Liberty's white throne;

Saw how, by sorrow tried and proved,
The last dark stains had been removed
Forever from the land he loved.

Saw Treason crushed, and Freedom crowned, And clamorous faction gagged and bound, Gasping its life out on the ground;

While over all his country's slopes
Walked swarming troops of cheerful hopes,
Which evermore to broader scopes

Increased, with power that comprehends
The world's weal in its own, and bends
Self-needs to large, unselfish ends.

Saw how, throughout the vast extents
Of earth's most populous continents,
She dropped such rare heart-affluence,

That, from beyond the farthest seas,
The wondering peoples thronged to seize
Her proffered pure benignities ;

And how, of all her trebled host
Of widening empires, none could boast
Whose strength or love was uppermost,

THE MASSACHUSETTS LINE.

Because they grew so equal there
Beneath the flag, which, debonnaire,
Waved joyous in the golden air;

Wherefore the martyr, gazing clear
Beyond the gloomy atmosphere
Which shuts us in with doubt and fear,

He, marking how her high increase
Ran greatening in perpetual lease
Through balmy years of odorous peace,

Greeted, in one transcendent cry
Of intense, passionate ecstacy,
The sight that thrilled him utterly:

Saluting, with most proud disdain
Of murder and of mortal pain,
The vision which shall be again.

So, lifted with prophetic pride,
Raised conquering hands to heaven, and cried,
"All hail the Stars and Stripes!" and died.

THE MASSACHUSETTS LINE.

BY ROBERT LOWELL.

AIR:-" Yankee Doodle."

I.

STILL first, as long and long ago,
Let Massachusetts muster;

Give her the post right next the foe;
Be sure that you may trust her.

9

She was the first to give her blood
For freedom and for honor;
She trod her soil to crimson mud:
God's blessing be upon her!

II.

She never faltered for the right,
Nor ever will hereafter;
Fling up her name with all your might,
Shake roof-tree and shake rafter.
But of old deeds she need not brag,
How she broke sword and fetter;
Fling out again the old striped flag!
She'll do yet more and better.

III.

In peace her sails fleck all the seas,
Her mills shake every river;
And where are scenes so fair as these

God and her true hands give her?
Her claim in war who seek to rob?
All others come in later;

Hers first it is to front the Mob,
The Tyrant and the Traitor.

IV.

God bless, God bless the glorious State!
Let her have her way to battle!
She'll go where batteries crash with fate,
Or where thick rifles rattle.

Give her the Right, and let her try,

And then, who can, may press her; She 'll go straight on, or she will die; God bless her! and God bless her!

Duanesburgh, May 7, 1861.

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