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SERVITUDE FOR LIFE.

AN ANSWER TO THOMAS CARLYLE BY J. M. LUDLOW.

And as you went off, looking rueful enough,
I couldn't help thinking, my sage, in my dream,

AN ACT OF VILLAINY.-A correspondent of the BosYou perhaps might be taught in a school rather rough, ton Traveller, writing from Sharpsburgh an account of

On “hirings for life” to have views less extreme, General Kilpatrick's charge on the rebel rear-guard, That when you've tried slavery's hell for awhile, near Downsville, relates the occurrence of a dastardly The misery of millions won't seem a good joke,

act as follows: A grin from the dulness of fools to beguile

General Kilpatrick got within half a mile of the eneAnd thinking this, Thomas, thank heaven! I awoke. my's rear-guard, near Downsville, Md., when our spies

W. C. BENNETT.

discovered that lines of rifle-pits were realy to contest BLACKHEATH, ENGLAND.

their advance. These works were erected on the brow of quite a large hill, and General Kiipatrick at once resolved to feel the strength of his foe. Two companies of the Sixth Michigan cavalry, B and F, were

ordered to charge up the hill to the earth works, which Frederick Marimus-" Harkee here, Dan, you black was done in fine style. As our men dashed in sight, nigger rascal. You're no longer a slave, you're a serv- the rebels were seen to throw down their arms and ant hired for life."

hoist a flag of truce. 7. C. Nigger_“By golly! Wife and chil'n servants

Supposing, of course, the enemy had surrendered, for life too, massa ?”

they continued on, and when within fisty or sixty feet F. M.—“Yes, all you niggers. But you must work the entire rebel force, which must have numbered from all the same, you know."

seven hundred to one thousand men, seized their rifles T. C. N.-“ Iss, massa. What wages you gib ?”

and fired upon our men, taking them completely by F. M.—"Wages, you rascal ? Quart of corn a day, surprise. and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours

Finding the force so much larger than they anticiof work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and pated, our men gave them a volley and fell back to the fifteen the other half."*

main body of cavalry. The rebels, after completely T. C. N.-“Any priv'leges, massa ?”

stripping the victims of their infamous treachery of F. M.—" Privileges ! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of shoes and stockings, fled to a dense piece of woods John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I three miles beyond, carrying off their dead and woundchoose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if ed. I visited the scene of their hellish plot in order to you go and peach against me, and of being sold down obtain a list of the casualties, and a more revolting South when I please, and of being converted by any spectacle never presented itself. parson whom I choose to allow.”

In all directions, as far as the eye could reach on the T. C. N.—“Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, top of the hill, lay the lifeless remains of our brave mass ?"

defenders, the warm blood oozing from their mortal F. M._"Ha! ha! ha! Yes—till I or Mr. Overseer wounds in streams that formed in pools amid the grass, want them. But you have the privilege of taking an

while at their side, bleeding, lay their faithful chargers, other wife as often as I allow it, and of having as many stiff in death, the sharers of their fate. children as it pays me to bring up.”.

A knot of soldiers gathered around the bodies of the T. C. N.—" Beg pardon, massa, but what for you slain, swearing eternal revenge upon the dastardly ascall me servant hired for life ?"

sassins who so cowardly shot their heroic comrades, F. M.—“What for, you rascal ? Because a great and then bayoneted them. This is a horrible face, man, after whom I named you, when he had written a which I witnessed personally. After killing our men, d-d good book on the ‘nigger question,' says that is they pierced their bodies with bayonets and swords, all the difference between you and those mean, white- robbed the dead of their finger-rings, boots, stockings, livered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the hats, and every article of value. month or the day."

T. C. N.—“Massa, if him book good book, why's I not priv'leged to learn read it ?”

Noble CONDUCT OP TIE TWENTY-THIRD NEW-JERSEY. F. M.—“Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if - In the Sixth corps we have a New-Jersey regiment, any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him the Twenty-third, which has exhibited an extraordinary fine and imprisonment or lashes, * and what do you degree of patriotism truly commendable, and worthy suppose you'd get ? So off with you Stay-of public acknowledgment. how old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter ?”

Their term of service had expired, but just as they T. C. N.—"Born three weeks 'fore Miss Susy, were preparing to leave for home, the order was remassa.”

ceived for the division to cross the river. Their galF. M.-"She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, lant Colonel ordered out his command, and after formnow that New Orleans"

ing them into line and telling them of the orders issue: T. C. N. (Aside while passing away)—“Dey say de he stated, notwithstanding their time was out, he for Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. one was going with the division, and desired to know

how many would go with him ; every soul in the resi * Laws of South-Carolina.

ment answered Ay! and they are now with a part of

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the Sixth corps, over the river and under the very

What have we done for thee? guns of the enemy.

What have we won for thee? This is truly a pleasing incident to record, and should Surging with tumult and sorely oppressed – receive the highest encomiums of all.-- Philadelphia

Given our all to thee! Inquirer, June, 1863.

Given our lives to thee!

Given thee Liberty, Land of the West.
ODE

Then hail to our country, the Land of the West ! On the Inauguration of the Albany Army Relief Ba- The green of her forests, the blue of her vales,

The marvel of nations, the Great and the Blest, zaar, on the 22d February, 1864.

Her mines and her mountains, her lakes and her sails, BY MISS MARGARET F. MORGAN, OF ALBANY.

Her cotton and rice-fields that stretch far away

In saffron of sunset, or purple of day-
All hail to our country, the Land of the West !
The dream of the nations, the Great and the Blest;

All, all will we cherish with right and with might,

Till the Sun shall grow dim on his voyage of light! The vision that came on the spice of the breeze,

From blight and from error, from woe and unrest, And haunted the heart of the dark Genoese

May God shield our country, the Land of the West !
That rose like a temple of gold to his view,
That hung like a star in his distance of blue.

MY SOLDIER.
The Sun on his journey may linger to glance
On the mosque and the temple, the vine and the

Upon a hard-won battle-field,
dance,

Whose recent blood-stains shock the skies, But always returns to the haunt he loves best,

By hasty burial half-concealed, And leaves his last smile with the Land of the West.

With death in his dear eyes,

My soldier lies.
O Sun! in thy beauty, untiring like thee,
The heart of the Westland is glowing !

O thought more sharp than bayonet-thrust! And over the continent, over the sea,

Of blood-drops on his silken hair, The light of its purpose is throwing.

Of his white forehead in the dust,

Of his last gasping prayer, Behold how its broad and beneficent ray

And I not there! Each measure and limit is scorning!

I know, while his warm life escaped, Though dark clouds of error still lurk in the way,

And his blue eyes closed shudderingly, They are edged with the light of the morning.

His heart's last fluttering pulses shaped
Come, Morning Light !

One yearning wish for me-
Come, quickly come,

O agony !
Break through the night,

For I, in cruel ignorance,
Trumpet and drum

While yet his last sigh pained the air,
Call in their might,
Come, quickly come!

I trifled-sung or laughed, perchance,

With roses in my hair,
Break, break the tyrant's yoke,

All unaware.
Break through the battle smoke-

In dreams I see him fall again,
Scatter the gloom !

Where cannons roar and guidons wave;
Let Treason's wonted ire

Then wake to hear the lonesome rain,
See in its force and fire

Weeping the fallen brave,
Naught but its doom !

Drip on his grave.
Break through the prison bars, go with a blessing,

Since treason sought our country's heart, Shine on our captives and bid them good cheer;

Ah! fairer body never yet Go where the soreness of famine is pressing,

From nobler soul was torn apart;
Tell them that bounty and largess are near:

No braver blood has wet
From mountain, vale, and mart,

Her coronet.
Tell them the Nation's heart
Whispers, “Good Cheer!"

No spirit more intense and fine

Strives where her starry banners wave, Though the air is stirred with combat,

No gentler face, beloved, than thine
Hope with lifted finger waits-

Sleeps in a soldier's grave-
Hears the bugle-call of “Union !!

No heart more brave.
Hears the homeward march of States !

And though his mound I may not trace,
From the dim and doubting vision,

Or weep above his buried head,
Rend the veil—and show the Right,

The grateful spring shall find the place,
Through the mists of fraud and fable,

And with her blossoms spread
Lead them onward, Morning Light !

His quiet bed.

The soul I loved is still alive, Peace will return with her chaplet of glory

The name I loved is Freedom's boast; Home from the battle-field weary and worn,

I clasp these helpful truths, and strive Come the brave squadrons of song and of story,

To feel, though great the cost, Bearing their banners up, rifted and torn!

Nothing is lost :

Since all of him that erst was dear

Is safe ; his life was nobly spent And it is well. Oh! draw Thou near, Light my bewilderment,

Make me content !

NORTH WARD.

BY JOHN HAY.

Then rally we all at the nation's call,

While the dear old flag waves o'er us; And our song shall rise till the bending skies

Resound with the swelling chorus.
When in treason's hour our country's power

To the hands of traitors was given,
Men woke to life for the deadly strife,
As the flag caught the breezes of heaven,

Then rally we all at the nation's call,

While the dear old flag waves o'er us;
And our song shall rise till the bending skies

Resound with the swelling chorus.
By our sacred cause—by our rights and laws-

By freedom's hallowed story-
By this flag of the free, on the land and the sea,
We'll maintain our country's glory.

Then rally we all to the nation's call,

While the dear old flag waves o'er us ; And our song shall rise till the bending skies

Resound with the swelling chorus.
O flag divine ! each star of thine

Shall brighten in wondrous beauty,
When the wanderers come to their olden home
In the robes of truth and duty

Then in Union grand we shall firmly stand,

While the Stars and Stripes wave o'er us, And our song shall rise till the bending skies Resound with the swelling chorus.

B. H. HALL.

Under the high, unclouded sun, That makes the ship and shadow one, I sail away, as from the fort Booms sullenly the noonday gun. The odorous airs blow thin and fine, The sparkling waves like emeralds shine, The lustre of the coral reefs Gleams whitely through the tepid brine. And glitters o'er the liquid miles The jeweled ring of verdant isles, Where generous Nature holds her court Of ripened bloom and sunny smiles. Encinctured by the faithful seas, Inviolate gardens load the breeze, Where flaunt, like giant warders' plumes, The pennants of the cocoa-trees. Enthroned in light, and bathed in balm, In lonely majesty the Palm Blesses the isles with waving handsHigh-Priest of the eternal Calm. Yet northward with an equal mind I steer my course, and leave behind The rapture of the Southern skies, The wooing of the Southern wind. For here o'er Nature's wanton bloom Falls far and near the shade of gloom, Cast from the hovering vulture-wings Of one dark thought of woe and doom. I know that in the snow-white pines The brave Norse fire of freedom shines, And fain for this I leave the land Where endless summer pranks the vines. O strong, free North, so wise and brave! O South, too lovely for a slave! Why read ye not the changeless truthThe free can conquer but to save ? May God upon these shining sands Send Love and Victory clasping hands, And Freedom's banners wave in peace For ever o'er the rescued lands! And here, in that triumphant hour, Shall yielding Beauty wed with Power; And blushing earth and smiling sea In dalliance deck the bridal bower.

OLD ROSY.

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When Rosy rode along the line,
Right well we knew our hero's sign;
For there we stood like wolves at bay,
And fought the rebels hard all day.
Still on they came; still back we drove
In fury low and cloud above;
But now they pressed us two to one-
Our line fell back--the front was gone-

We almost wept to see the rout:
“Stand fast! stand fast! and see it out!"
Our leader shouted. Oh! the shout,

As Rosy rode along the line.
As quickening vengeance draws its breath
To leap to the embrace of death,
Awhile they paused, then all aflame,
On, on the hounding rebels came.
"Stand by the flag !" our chieftain cried ;
Like rooted oaks our columns bide;
But tide on tide the flood o'erflowed,
The broken line fell back the road.
“Hurrah !" we heard the foeman cry-

Yet stood our chief, not ours to fly;
But blazed the tiger in his eye

As Rosy rode along the line.

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OUR COUNTRY'S FLAG.

CAMPAIGN SONG.

AIR—"Sparkling and Bright."
Loyal and true to the red, white, and blue,

With high resolve united,
We firmly stand for our native land,

By faith and honor plighted.

Where now within the battle-blast
Our ragged standards fluttered fast,

A cheer broke in, and then the drum-
“The Hawkeyes, Buckeyes, Hoosiers come !"
We stood to win, nor thought to stir,
Each man an executioner ;
Heard o'er the hills in gathering gloom
The deep gun's last despairing boom-

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"We are many.

Then ranged our cannons to the breach
With haughty purpose, each to each,
And silent still we stood for speech,

Till Rosy rode along the line.
Uprose our gunners, grim and bare,
To light the torch of victory there!
Now close the charging foemen surge,
To mock the awful lightning's verge;
Down to the front our leader darts-
** Aim low! aim low! my flinty hearts !"
And soon about the colors true
Our drummer beats his wild tattoo !

Then but to see the chieftain's look ;

The word he gave that word we took“Give them a blizzard !" Lord, it shook !

As Rosy rode along the line. Back rolled the flood, and in its track We drove their quailing legions back; As horse and foot we followed on, With bloody cost the day was won ! Then homeward Rosy took his course,

Our wounded drummer on his horse; “ Well done!" said he; "well done, brave men, Please God, we'll do as well again."

Then marched we in with three times three
For Murfreesboro, the victory.
Ah ! 'twas a sight for men to see,
When Rosy rode along the line.

KANE O'DONNEL.

For ever gone with thy guardian power ?

And thy country, hereft of thee,
So easy a prey, in an ill-starred hour,

To some hostile giant ruling the sea ?
"We are here!" the Monitor's Children cry,

And the voices are looming athwart the gloom: “Ne'er mother went down, to be raised so highLeft such an example-so honored a tomb.

In us she lives, and more,
As mother in stalwart and filial band;
In her faith we have sworn, on sea and shore

To fulfil her counsel-her loyal command.
We are one—as our country must ever be-

In our heavenly trust and our glorious cause, Dealing death upon treason and tyranny,

For Union, Liberty, Virtue, and Laws. “We are ready! All clad in our heaviest mail, Yet buoyant to breast the “heaviest” gale. We are ready! To pour our iron hail, Till inimical bulwarks tremble and failTill Rebellion has uttered its dying wail, And tyrants, “admonished," no more shall assail* And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall

wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.'

SCSQUEHANNA.

THE AMERICAN NATION.

BY JAMES S. WATKINS.

THE “MONITOR" AND HER CHILDREN.

AN ODE,

DEDICATED TO THE CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES.

“ The gale at this time was raging furiously. The water had ucceeded in rising up to the grate-bars of the furnaces, and was gradually extinguishing the fires. The vessel was now sinking. lhe moon, which up to this time had been giving some light, was shut in by masses of black clouds; and at three quarters of an hour past midnight, on the morning of the last day of 1862, the Monitor's light disappeared beneath the waves."'--ACcount by a gentleman on the Rhode Island. A ship foundering at midnight!—the Monitor !-ho!

The mistress of ocean in whelming waves !
Deep-deeper and stronger the terrible flow

Is sweeping the struggling to watery graves;
The conqueror peerless, now yielding to one

Who can turn into peril our glory and bliss—
Make “coating metallic" and "monster gun

A sinker for sounding the dark abyss. Yes, sinking ! like soldier of ancient date,

When suddenly launched upon waters mad In his death-defying scales and plate

His impervious armor—"iron-clad." Oh! we think of the day when, from havoc of blood,

The Devourer * fled, wounded, away in her shame, And duels and tournaments since the world stood, Took their place out of sight, hardly claiming a

name.

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The American Nation !

She knows not her strength, Whose armies are millions, through

Her breadth and her length; Her Union is strength

She dreads not the world, Though at her, unjustly,

They've thunderbolts hurled.
With her navy of iron,

And sailors of steel,
She scorns haughty Europe,

Whose tyrannic heel
Would crush with oppression

(If crush it they could) That birthright her freemen

Have purchased by blood. The American Nation!

A light to the world, Where Liberty's emblem,

By freemen unfurled, Waves aloft, in its glory,

O'er steeple and dome, Protecting and granting

The oppressed a home. The American Nation !

All freemen we have! No serfs, à la Russia,

The nobleman's slave! But a land where the poor

The sceptre can wield, And rule with the wealthy,

'Neath Liberty's shield. The American Nation !

Independent and free!
God grant she, through ages,

United may be :

Yet one more agony for the relief,

Yet one more desperate yearn to save ! 'Tis in vain. Alas! But a moment brief

And the plunge—the gurgle—the closing grave. Over “ turret ” a prouder boast of mind,

Sublimer symbol-for ever gone!Than towers colossal of towns refined,

That crash and vanish in earthquake's yawn. * The great rebel iron-clad, the Merrimac or Virginia.

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Oh ! how delicious that beautiful dream!

With tremulous joy, in a fond embrace He folds to his heart his loved ones again,

And looks with delight in each radiant face. Sweet voices, like melody, fall on his ear,

And baby-lips prattle in welcoming glee; On the cheek of his wife there's a glittering tear, As she whispers : "Beloved, I've been praying

for thee."

Left !-Right !-Left!-Right!

Steady ye freemen !-so! Now forward we go

Rushing o'er abattis, breastwork, and wall, Victorious ! in triumph o'er Slavery's fall!

Shouting pæans. Io ! to our glorious stars ; Hurrabing loud anthems to the Red, White, and Blue,

As they fly with their bright constellation of light, Proclaiming to traitors and tyrants in flight, That Victoria Apteryx* dwells ever with you.

C. D. MEIGS, M.D.

She tells him how oft, in the watches of night,
Her prayers were breathed forth to the Father

above,
That He, in his infinite goodness and might,

Would spread o'er her husband a mantle of love. The soul of the sleeper is thrilling with joy, But his dream is dispelled by the tones of com

mand: “ To arms !" shouts the captain; “ brave soldiers, to

arms ! And fight for your country—the foe is at hand !" 'Mid that terrible conflict, 'mid carnage and strife,

The soldier is calm, and his spirit is free; He thinks of his children-he thinks of his wifeAnd murmurs: “I know they are praying for

me."

BLACK TOM. Hunted by his rebel master

Over many a hill and glade, Black Tom, with his wife and children,

Found his way to our brigade. Tom had sense and truth and courage,

Often tried where danger rose-
Once our flag his strong arm rescued

From the grasp of rebel foes.
One day Tom was marching with us

Through the forest as our guide,
When a ball from traitor's rifle

Broke his arm and pierced his side. On a litter white men bore him,

Through the forest drear and damp, Laid him, dying, where our banners

Brightly fluttered o'er our camp. Pointing to his wife and children,

While he suffered racking pain, Said he to our soldiers round him,

"Don't let them be slaves again !" "No! by Heaven !" outspoke a soldier,

And that oath was not profane“Our brigade will still protect them

They shall ne'er be slaves again.” Over Old Tom's dusky features

Came and staid a joyous ray ; And with saddened friends around him,

His free spirit passed away.

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And with a strong arm that is nerved for the right,

And with a true heart for his country and God, He's a hero that day in the midst of the fight,

And wins a proud name to be sounded abroad.

Few knew of the talisman worn in his breast

Love, blended with faith, is inciting him on; He thinks not of danger, he seeks not for rest, Till the battle is ended—the victory won.

Ervin.

LOOKOUT.

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GENERAL HOOKER TO HIS MEN-LOOKOUT VALLEY, NO

VEMBER 24, 1863.
Left-Right ! Left-Right!

Left-Right !-March !
Steady men !-so!

For silent we go
To rescue our country from tyrant and foe.

" PEACE ON EARTH." Peace! when over every land and sea Is heard no more the cry of Slavery; When bondmen are no longer bond, but free, And freedmen shout aloud "Sweet Liberty !"

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Not a word my good men—not a sound,

Save the tramp of your tread,

* “Victoria Apteryx "_"the Wingless Victory."

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