STEP TO THE FRONT, SONS OF THE HEATHER. RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE HIGHLAND GUARD, 79TH REGIMENT. Step to the front, bonnet and feather, Linked with the dreams of your own Highland vale; Step to the front, sons of the heather, Show the bold Southrons the face of the Gael. The lords of the South have unkennelled their beagles, The legions of tyranny sweep from afar; Step to the front, bonnet and feather, &c. Flowers of the vale they have crushed down before them; All to the will of the despots must bow; But manhood has met them, and death hovers o'er them The strong-bearded thistle is waiting them now. Step to the front, bonnet and feather, &c. Down on them, Highlanders, swoop from your cyry, STEAM-FRIGATE PAWNEE PASSING MOUNT VERNON. BY ISAAC M'LELLAN. "In passing down the Potomac River, and arriving opposite Mount Vernon, a beautiful and graceful tribute was paid to the sacred remains that lie entombed in that hallowed spot. All hands were called, officers in swords and epaulets, sailors in their neat uniforms, the fine guard of the Pawnee drawn up, with belt and musket. At a given signal the large American ensign fell at half-mast; the ship's bell tolled out its muflled tones, the melancholy drums rolled their funereal salute, while the presented arms and uncovered heads of officers and men paid a sad tribute of respect to him who was first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen; and so the Pawnee passed on, silent and mourning; for he by whose grave she glided was the Father of his Country." -Morning paper. Fast down the bay the frigate pass'd, The brave flag, world-renowned! While life should last, while heart should beat, That flag should be their winding-sheet, Though foemen might their hurricane Though red with gore their decks should flow, Ah! never, never from their foe Would they for mercy call! On as they swept, Mount Vernon's shade Their ensign at the half-mast fell, Their Father's great remains! No whisper breath'd that sailing crew, Fast by that sacred shore; They mus'd on him, and his stern ranks, Ceas'd from their great career! O'er that memorial urn! Might see, in each dim, moody glade, Arm'd cohorts, in long cavalcade, Close round that lonely tomb; While He, the august Father, stands, Sad musing 'mid his war-worn bands, Lamenting that his country's lands Are darkening now in gloom! Lamenting that red hands are thrust To rend above his very dust The starry banner low ! * On, on the noble vessel glides, THE MEETING ON THE BORDER. The civil war had just begun, And caused much consternation, While O. P. Morton governed one Great State of this great nation, So it did. And when they found that they were sold, At 2 A. M. the scamp did come, No matter what they find to do, And serve the devil, too, as well, So they would. Editors are gathering; And the walls of fame Soon will show their children Where they "carved a name;" Every inland steamer, Every train of cars, Bring their eager thousands, Tailors, clerks, mechanics, "Now's the time to shoot." Fall within the line. Students, doctors, lawyers, Timid, blushing maiden Softly gasps, "My gracious!" As her gallant lover Swears he'll shoot Jeff. Davis. Proud and doting father, When he says, 'My son," Hears his roguish youngster Gallant-looking firemen, "Them 'ere Southern squirts." "All we ask is to be let alone."-JEFF. DAVIS. A dog having stolen a large piece of meat, Ran off with the prize he regarded so sweet, And while he was quietly gnawing the bone, He asked nothing more than to be let alone. You impudent rascal! the market man cried, Your villainous action cannot be denied, "Tis foolish to think, when your conduct is known, That any good people will let you alone. 'Tis thus with mankind, though conscious of wrong, The traitorous minions who follow his lead, Let them capture the forts, and our property seize, They treat with contempt our Union and name, SONGS OF THE REBELS. THE SOUTHRON'S WAR-SONG. Arise! arise! with main and might, Arise, ye brave! let cowards fly- Strike hard, strike hard, thou noble band; Let thunders roar, the lightning flash; Bold Southron, never fear! The bay'net's point, the sabre's clash, Bright flow'rs spring from the hero's grave; Thrice curs'd the traitor and the knave! Then let each noble Southron stand, We'll do for God and fatherland; -Charleston Courier, June 11. HURRAH! BY A MISSISSIPPIAN. Hurrah! for the Southern Confederate State, Hurrah! and hurrah! for her brave volunteers, And three cheers for the Palmetto wreath! Hurrah! for the South-shout hurrah! and hurrah! O'er her soil shall no tyrant have sway. In peace or in war we will ever be found 66 Invincible," now and for aye. -Mobile Register. THE NATCHEZ MILITARY. BY WALTER STANLEY. The stirring notes of the rolling drum So wave a kiss to your friends and home, Our trade is war, and we do not care To the sound of the fife and drum. Of the fierce and cruel Mars; And there on the field of death and doom Or we, who fight for the sunny South, Now let us be faithful, bold, and true, -Natchez Free Trader. But the battle to the strong When the Judge of right and wrong And the God of David still Seldom, if ever, has New York witnessed such a sight, or heard such strain. No military hero of the present war has been thus honored. No statesman has thus loosed the tongues of a thousand men to chant his patriotism. Little did Capt. Brown think of the national struggles that were to follow his eventful death. But his calmness and firmness gave evidence of his faith that the cause of freedom demanded the sacrifice of his life, and he nobly died. It was a notable fact that while the regiment united as with one voice singing this song, thousands of private citizens, young and old, on the sidewalks and in crowded doorways and windows, joined in the chorus. The music was in itself impressive, and many an eye was wet with tears. Few who witnessed the triumphal tread of that noble band of men arrayed for the war for freedom, will ever forget the thrilling tones of that song.-N. Y. Independent. "MAKE UP YOUR MIND TO IT."--The Philadelphia Presbyterian, under the heading of "Make Up Your Mind to It," thus expresses its views on peace propositions: " "A gentlemen, not very distinguished for ardent patriotism, declaiming against the war as having in a large measure arrested the wheels of business, and interfered with his usual prosperity, a friend properly rebuked him in terms like these: "This war has been enforced on us. It must necessarily produce distress. As a citizen you may as well make up your mind to bear a portion of the burden. You have been accustomed to look exclusively after your personal interests; now you must enlarge your views, and aid the public cause. The very existence of the Government, under the shadow of which you have prospered, is in peril; if it falls you fall; if it prospers you will prosper. If, to escape temporary sacrifice, you would patch up a false, factitious, and dishonorable peace, you are unworthy of the name of an American and a freeman.' "The answer was a just one. The mercenary cry of many is the war is ruining us, and the selfishness it betrays is the very ground on which it is attempted to form a party to frown down the war at all hazards. What is to become of our Confederacy, our Government, our future freedom, do not enter into the calculation. Surely American virtue is at a low ebb if we are not willing to make JOHN BROWN, DEAD YET SPEAKETH.-Who would sacrifices, and to bring down our high aspirations have dreamed, a year and a half since, that a thou- after fortune, for the sake of our country. These sand men in the streets of New York would be are times when every good citizen should willingly heard singing reverently and enthusiastically in bring down his notions to a war standard. He must praise of John Brown! Such a scene was wit-willingly suffer, as the people of our old revolution nessed on Saturday evening last. One of the new regiments from Massachusetts on its way through this city to the seat of war sang did, for the sake of their country. Those who cry out for peace on any terms little dream of the sad inheritance they would leave their children in a land divided into factions and rent by interminable future war. No; the sacrifice is nothing compared with the miseries which would be brought upon us by the splitting of our country into a number of contending communities.-If such an evil is to befall us, which may God in his mercy prevent, let it not at least come through our recreant, our low selfishness, and our base betrayal of the precious trust reposed in us." HOW MONEY IS TO BE RAISED.-The following article, while indirectly acknowledging the des |