MISSING. Still a hope to cheer her! Safe, triumphant, he may come, With the victor army shouting, With the clamor of the druin! So, through all the days of autumn- Or, she will hush her household, Far away through all the autumn, In a lonely, lonely glade, In the dreary desolation That the battle-storm has made With the rust upon his musket In the eve and in the mornIn the rank gloom of the fern leaves Lies her noble-browed first-born. "AT EVENING TIME IT SHALL BE LIGHT." BY "C. F." Our nation's sun was clouded o'er, But soon those beams were hid no more, But freedom's sky shall yet be bright, The sun of Liberty shall ne'er In clouds and darkness set; Her sons are brave-they know no fear- We know, whatever may betide, It is in mercy He doth chide His arm is pow'rful still. Then strike! for God and for the Right, "At evening time it shall be light." POETRY BY GEN. LANDER. The following stanzas were written by Brig.-Gen. Lander, on hearing that the Confederate troops had said that "Fewer of the Massachusetts officers would have been killed if they had not been too proud to surrender." We trust that the suggestion in the last stanza will be promptly met, and the Twentieth Massachusetts be at once recruited to its full complement. "OURS." Aye, deem us proud! for we are more Proud of each rock, and wood, and glen, Who claim the right and will to reign. Proud of the men who gave us birth, Who battled with the stormy wave, To sweep the red man from the earth, And build their homes upon his grave. Proud of the holy summer morn, They traced in blood upon its sod; The rights of freemen yet unborn, Proud of their language and their God. Proud, that beneath our proudest dome, And round the cottage-cradled hearth, There is a welcome and a home For every stricken race on earth. Proud that yon slowly sinking sun As honor gathers from despair. Pride 'tis our watchword, "Clear the boats!" "Holmes, Putnam, Bartlett, Pierson-here!" And while this crazy wherry floats, "Let's save our wounded!" cries Revere. Old State-some souls are rudely sped- -Boston Post, Nov. 23. AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR. Deeds There are bright spots in the darkness of war. of mercy by an enemy shed lustre on our common humanity. They have been commemorated in the heroic song of Homer, and have been eagerly caught and honored in every age by the human heart. They bid us hope, too, that the present contest grows, in part, out of mutual mis apprehension of the purposes and spirit of the two sections of the country arrayed against each other. The following lines were written by a lady of Stockbridge, and commemorate an incident very touching and beautiful, which rests upon the best authority, and which ought to be known. Colonel Mulligan refused his parole at Lexington, and his wife resolved to share his captivity. Accordingly she left her infant, fourteen months old, in the care of one of the strongest secessionist women in the town. That woman assumed the charge of the little child, and dressed it in the captured American flag. The fight had ceased! The cannon's roar Was silent on Missouri's shore; The leader and his band so brave Had turned from walls they could not save |