LULLABY. Men may die, and moulder in the dust, When Heaven is marching on. BY E. JEFFERSON CUTLER. Now the twilight shadows flit ; Little head on mother's arm, She will keep him safe from harm, - Baby's father, far away, Thinks of him at shut of day; Sleep, baby, sleep! He must guard the sleeping camp, He can hear the lullaby, He can see the laughing eye; And he knows, though we are dumb, Back to baby, mother, home: 97 Now the eyes are closing up; Softly on his father's bed Mother lays her baby's head; God, who driest the widow's tears, Shield the father in the fray; Help the mother wait and pray; Keep us all by night and day : Only Once. THE RIVER FIGHT. BY H. H. BROWNELL, U. S. N. Do you know of the dreary land, But the nightmare marsh of a dream? To die in the great Gulf Stream ? No coast-line clear and true, On that dismal shore you pass, Surf-worn boulder or sandy beach, – THE RIVER FIGHT. But ooze-flats as far as the eye can reach. Reedy savannahs, vast and dun, Lying dead in the dim March sun; Like the blackened bones of shapes gone by, No lovely, delicate thing Of life o'er the waste is seen; But the cayman, couched by his weedy spring, Or the buzzard, flapping with heavy wing, Ah! many a weary day With our Leader there we lay, In the sultry haze and smoke, Tugging our ships o'er the bar, Till the Spring was wasted far, Till his brave heart almost broke. For the sullen river seemed As if our intent he dreamed, – All his sallow mouths did spew and choke. But ere April fully passed, All ground over at last, And we knew the die was cast, Knew the day drew nigh To dare to the end one stormy deed, Anchored we lay, and a morn the more, 99 66 GENERAL ORDERS. "Send your to'gallant-masts down, “In with your canvas high; We shall want no sail to fly! Topsail, foresail, spanker, and jib, (With the heart of oak in the oaken rib,) Shall serve us to win or die! "Trim every sail by the head, Lest, if she ground, your ship swing round, When you grapple a traitor deck! "On forecastle and on poop Mount guns, as best you may deem. If possible, rouse them up, (For still you must bow the stream.) Also hoist and secure with stops Howitzers firmly in your tops, To fire on the foe a-beam. "Look well to your pumps and hose; And the gun-crews' fiery thirst. See planks with felt fitted close, THE RIVER FIGHT. To plug every shot-hole tight. Stand ready to meet the worst! For, if I have reckoned aright, They will serve us shot, both cold and hot, (Our life-long service at stake, Till the orders come from the flag!" Would you hear of the River Fight ? Sailed the Great Admiral. On our high poop-deck he stood, Lords of helm and of sail, Bronzed in battle and wreck. Bell and Bailey grandly led Each his line of the Blue and Red; And I mind me of more than they, |