APOCALYPSE.

APOCALYPSE.*

7

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.

9

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.

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.

LAY down the axe, fling by the spade:
Leave in its track the toiling plough;
The rifle and the bayonet-blade

For arms like yours were fitter now;
And let the hands that ply the pen

Quit the light task, and learn to wield The horseman's crooked brand, and rein The charger on the battle-field.

Our country calls; away! away!

To where the blood-stream blots the green.

Strike to defend the gentlest sway

That Time in all his course has seen.

See, from a thousand coverts

see

Spring the armed foes that haunt her track;

They rush to smite her down, and we
Must beat the banded traitors back.

Ho! sturdy as the oaks ye cleave,

And moved as soon to fear and flight, Men of the glade and forest! leave

Your woodcraft for the field of fight.
The arms that wield the axe must pour
An iron tempest on the foe;

His serried ranks shall reel before
The arm that lays the panther low.

And

ye

who breast the mountain storm By grassy steep or highland lake, Come, for the land ye love, to form

A bulwark that no foe can break.