Patriot soldiers, loving their land,
Hasting to battle, heroes so grand!
Honor their memories on History's pages;
Build for them monuments lasting thro' ages

Dirges for brothers sleeping in death!
Faced they the cannon's sulphurous breath;
Feared not the foemen, never would yield;
Bled for their country, died on the field!
Precious their offering, let it be cherished;
Gratitude give them, for nobly they perished!

Fame for the true hearts, true to the flag,
Strong for the Union, firm as a crag!

Fireblasts of battle, missiles of lead,

!

Turned them not backward, laying them dead! Deeds of such daring with earth's choicest are blended, Long as the flag waves, so bravely defended!

Garlands unfading give to our braves;
Flowers immortal bloom on their graves !
Veteran warriors, young hearts and bold,
Foremost in conflict, - silent and cold!
Memory keeps and rehearses their story;
Die not their names, star-lighted with glory!

Rest for the martyred,—rest in the grave;
Thunders of battle wake not the brave;
War-drum and shouting, musketry's roar,
Rolling loud o'er them, heeded no more!
Peace that they fought for came to us timely;
Freedom they died for triumphed sublimely.

S. DRYDEN PHELPS.

16. DECORATION DAY.

SLEEP, comrades! sleep and rest
On this field of grounded arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry's shot alarms.

Ye have slept on the ground before,
And started to your feet

At the cannon's sudden roar,

Or the drum's redoubling beat.

But in this camp of death

No sound your slumber breaks; Here is no fevered breath,

No wound that bleeds and aches.

All is repose and peace;

Untrampled lies the sod; The shouts of battle cease,It is the truce of God.

Rest, comrades! rest and sleep!
The thoughts of men should be

As sentinels, to keep

Your rest from dangers free.

Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers;
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.

LONGFELLOW.

And at the thought broke forth, at last,
The cry of anguish wild

That would no longer be repressed,-
"O God! my wife and child!"

"And," said the other dying man,
"Across the Georgia plain

There watch and wait for me loved ones
I'll never see again.

A little girl with dark bright eyes
Each day waits at the door;
The father's step, the father's kiss,
Will never meet her more.

"To-day we sought each other's lives;
Death levels all that now,
For soon before God's mercy-seat
Together shall we bow.

Forgive each other while we may;
Life 's but a weary game;
And right or wrong, the morning sun
Will find us dead the same."

The dying lips the pardon breathe,
The dying hands entwine;

The last ray dies, and over all

The stars from heaven shine ;
And the little girl with golden hair,
And one with dark eyes bright,

On Hampshire's hills and Georgia plain,
Were fatherless that night.

21

ELLEN H. FLAGG.

19. THE DAWNING FUTURE.

Closing stanza of patriotic poem, "The Patriot South," by the President of Tulane University, Louisiana.

THUS, in the march of time, and long procession

Of coming ages, year on year,

We mark the great Republic's proud career,

Like Philip's phalanx, manifold,

With bucklers linked, one front against aggression,
Till Freedom's perfect vision is enrolled,

And man, with eye unsealed, its glories shall behold.

WILLIAM PRESTON JOHNSON.

PART XI.

SCHOOL-ROOM ECHOES AND HINTS.

1. AMERICAN EDUCATION.

We have been accustomed to regard a free-school system as the chief corner-stone of the Republic, and popular education as the only safe and stable basis for popular liberty. So thought our fathers before us; and the principle may be found interwoven in a thousand forms into the very thread and texture of our political institutions.

the education of the was, we all know, from

Education, civil and religious, sanctuary and the school-house, the first settlement of the American Colonies, a matter in regard to which all property was held in common, and every man was bound to contribute to the necessities of every other man; as much so as personal protection, public justice, or any other of the more obvious duties of government, or the rights of the governed.

Children should be educated as those by whom the destinies of the nation are one day to be wielded; and free schools should be cherished as places in which those destinies are even now to be woven. It has been recorded as a saying of Mahomet that "the ink of the scholar and the blood of the martyr are equal." But in this we must all agree, that nothing but the ink of the scholar can preserve what the blood of the martyr has purchased.