Toll! Roland, toll! Not now in old St. Bavon's tower Not now at midnight hour Not now from River Scheldt to Zuyder Zee, But here,- this side the sea! Toll here, in broad, bright day! For not by night awaits A noble foe without the gates, But perjured friends within betray, Toll! Roland, toll! Thy sound is not too soon! To Arms! Ring out the Leader's call! Reëcho it from East to West, Till every hero's breast Shall swell beneath a soldier's crest! Snatch pouch and powder-horn and gun ! Till swords from scabbards leap! Toll! Roland, toll! What tears can widows weep Less bitter than when brave men fall? Toll! Roland, toll! In shadowed hut and hall Shall lie the soldier's pall, And hearts shall break while graves are filled! Amen! So God has willed! And may his grace anoint us all! Toll! Roland, toll! The Dragon on thy tower And Freedom so stands safe in Ghent ! And in the land's serene content So let it be ; A kingly king is he Who keeps his people free! Toll! Roland, toll! Ring out across the sea! No longer They but We Have now such need of thee! Toll! Roland, toll! Nor ever may thy throat Keep dumb its warning note Till Freedom's perils be outbraved! Till Freedom's flag, wherever waved, Shall shadow not a man enslaved ! Toll! Roland, toll! From Northern lake to Southern strand, Till friend and foe, at thy command, God bless, God bless, the glorious State! She'll go where batteries crash with fate, Give her the Right, and let her try; CCCXXVIII. ON THE SHORES OF TENNESSEE. "MOVE my arm-chair, faithful Pompey, In the sunshine bright and strong, On the shores of Tennessee. "Mournful though the ripples murmur, As they still the story tell, How no vessels float the banner I shall listen to their music, Dreaming that again I see Stars and Stripes on sloop and shallop, "And, Pompey, while old massa's waiting Should come proudly sailing home, R. Lowell "Massa's berry kind to Pompey; But ole darkey's happy here, Where he's tended corn and cotton For 'ese many a long-gone year. Over yonder Missis's sleeping No one tends her grave like me; Mebbie she would miss the flowers She used to love in Tennessee. "'Pears like she was watching Massa If Pompey should beside him stay, Mebbie she'd remember better How for him she used to pray; Telling him that way up yonder White as snow his soul would be, If he served the Lord of heaven While he lived in Tennessee." Silently the tears were rolling Down the poor old dusky face, Master dreaming of the battle Where he fought by Marion's side, When he bid the haughty Tarleton Stoop his lordly crest of pride. Man, remembering how yon sleeper Once he held upon his knee, Ere she loved the gallant soldier, Ralph Vervair, of Tennessee. Still the south wind fondly lingers 'Mid the veteran's silvery hair; Still the bondman close beside him |