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discovering their close proximity, Jones exclaimed, | permission to present it to Sergeant Lieber of the "For God Almighty's sake, tell me quick-friends Seventeenth Indiana Regiment, who undoubtedly or enemies-who are you?" The other replied, shot the speculator in the ancestral estate of Mount "We are friends," and at the same time advanced. Vernon. A little boy, named Joseph Ware, who was behind the Mississippian, instantly cried out, "Captain, they are not friends; don't you see they have not guns like ours. They are Yankees, let me shoot." Again Jones exclaimed, "Who are you? Speak quick, for I can't keep my men from firing." "I'll let you know who we are, you d-d rebel," said the Yankee officer, for such he was, and suiting the action to the word, he sprang upon and seized Captain Jones by the collar. For a second or two a scuffle ensued between the officers, when the latter broke loose. At the same instant one of the Mississippians dashed out the Yankee's brains with the point of his musket.Charleston Courier.

THE CLERGY OF REBELLION.-A correspondent of the Richmond Dispatch, writing from Marion, Ala., says: "Rev. H. A. M. Henderson, late of Kentucky, is now canvassing this portion of the State, raising a regiment. He is a Methodist clergyman, and was driven from Kentucky because he would not take upon him the Lincoln yoke. It argues well for the Southern confederacy to see the clergy flying to arms. It is stated here that one-half of the Baptist ministers of this State are in the army, so that in the convention many vacant seats are to be found.”—N. Y. World, Nov. 20.

A SHAM FIGHT BECOMES EARNEST.-Encouraged by the war, one Sergeant J. W. Ambler has been teaching broadsword and bayonet exercise to the young men of Biddeford, Me., and on a recent evening, gave a public exhibition, at which it was announced there would be a "sham fight" between the Federals and the rebels, the latter to fall at a proper moment. But the "rebels" had determined not to die so easily, but instead thereof to drive the "Union men" from the stage; and they had nearly done it when the gallant sergeant grasped his trusty sword and the work became no joke. He slashed right and left, regardless of heads or points, and turned the scale of battle. As a result there were seven men who needed sur

gical attendance. The audience were too much interested to have "our side" win to scruple about bruised heads. Indeed, intense excitement prevailed; and the audience were all on their feet, cheering the sergeant on. One man has been in bed ever since, and the sergeant was not able to drill for several days.-Portsmouth (N. H.) Chronicle.

THE following advertisement has appeared in the Norfolk Day Book:

ATTENTION, RATTLESNAKES.-Charge with fell poison and be prepared to strike. We find many subjects in this town who must receive the force of our venom. Call early at the Hole and hear the Big Snake. Little snakes, keep your eyes open and bring in the list of those unfriendly to our holy cause. By

order of the

November 13, 1861.

BIG RATTLE.

THERE were found upon the person of Colonel John A. Washington and forwarded to the War Department, two revolvers, (Colt's Navy,) one pair of spurs, one opera-glass, one large bowie-knife, and one pocket compass. General Reynolds retained one of the revolvers, and requested of Secretary Cameron

HOW A REBEL CAPTAIN DIED.-Captain John Sperlock, a native Virginian, in command of a company of Home Guards, near Mud River, Boone County, about forty-five miles up Guyandotte Creek, met a rebel captain named Harvey Barrett mounted on a large gray horse and driving before him two unarmed Union men, whom he was about to force into the rebel army. These men were on their way to join Sperlock's company when waylaid by Barrett, who threatened to shoot them if they attempted to escape. As soon as Captain Sperlock saw the party he rode up to Barrett, and ordered him to lay down his arms, which he refused to do. Sperlock then told him he was attempting to impress into the service of the rebels two men against their wills, and that if he did not instantly dismount and give himself up, he would kill him. Barrett denied that the men were going against their wills, but they, seeing that there was a chance of escape, cried out that they were Union men. Sperlock then raised his rifle to his shoulder and sent a ball through Barrett's heart, who toppled from his horse, and, like a true rebel, died with a lie in his throat.-Cincinnati Gazette, Nov. 6.

TO AN ABOLITIONIST.

Point not out a path to others

Which your feet refuse to tread;
Follow with your earnest brothers,

Though it lead among the dead.

BLASTED B's.-The B's have swarmed upon us for some time, and are more provocative of nightmare than mince pie at ten o'clock. We had Buchanan, Breckinridge, Black, Bright, Bigler, Bayard, Benja min, and Brown to curse the nation in the civil ranks, and now we are haunted by Bull Run, Ball's Bluff, Big Bethel, and Bull's Bay, boldly entered by our fleet, notwithstanding the ominous prestige against B's. Blast the B's. We hope they will cease to swarm on the boughs of the Tree of Liberty. We hope our fleet will make no Bull in Bull's Bay, and regret that Beaufort begins with B.-Cleveland Plain

Dealer.

There seems to be another "blasted B" down at Belmont, Mo.

SECESSION BARBARITIES.-The following is an extract from a letter from a gentleman of the highest respectability in Illinois, to his friend in Albany, N. Y., dated Oct. 26:

"Yes, my dear Sir, we live too near the borders of Missouri not to feel intensely excited by the scenes that are being enacted in that State. Secession and rebellion are rampant on the very borders of Illinois. The newspapers have informed you of the undermining of a railroad bridge by the rebels, by which scores of men, women, and children were suddenly sent into eternity, and great numbers, who were not killed outright, were maimed for life. Scenes equally brutal, though not so destructive, by wholesale, of human life, are every day perpetrated by the 'Secesh' of Missouri. A more cowardly set of savages does not exist. Two of my three sons are now in the Union army. The oldest is captain of a company, but Frank, our youngest boy, is only a private.

Both are in the field in Missouri, and both have frequently enjoyed the gratification of smelling gunpowder in battle with the Secession rascals. One day a small party of Missourians, concealed behind a wood-pile close to the railroad, fired into the cars as they were passing, and killed an excellent young man who was sitting by the side of Frank. The young man assassinated in that cowardly manner was Frank's bosom friend, and both were born in the same county. Ever since that day Frank has never been in a skirmish with the Missouri rebels without taking deliberate aim and dropping his man; for the boy is a capital shot, and always hits his mark. He says he feels no more compunction in killing a Missouri rebel than he would in killing a mad dog.

"You can hardly realize the ferocity with which slavery inspires the owner of a negro or two. Even woman, when she owns a slave, or one is owned in the family, seems, in many instances, to have cast aside her feminine nature and to have become savage. A woman of wealth, the owner of quite a number of slaves, when a band of Cherokee Indians, a few months ago, came to the south of Missouri, where she lives, to join the Secession army, under McCulloch of Texas, that woman, or rather fiend, publicly offered the Indians a large reward if they would bring her 'Yankee free-soil' scalps enough to make a counterpane for her bed. There is no mistake about it. "The same ferocity exists wherever slavery is found. Last June, a beautiful and accomplished girl, a native of Western New York, employed as a teacher in New Orleans, was dragged, on Sunday morning, to Jackson Square, and placed in ad nuditate naturæ in the presence of many hundreds of spectators, including scores of well-dressed women. To the latter the poor girl made a heartrending appeal, that they would save her sex from such an outrage. But they replied only by jeers and insults, telling her it was no more than every Yankee woman deserved. The unfortunate girl was tarred and feathered, and then banished from the State, without receiving the salary due her. You may rely upon the entire truth of this statement. It comes on the authority of a spectator, upon whose words as implicit reliance can be placed as upon that of any man in the community.

"I hope and trust that God designs to make this wicked rebellion the instrument for ridding our land from the curse of slavery."-Albany Eve. Journal.

THE Scientific American describes a breast-plate which, it is said, is being extensively worn by the officers and men in the Federal army before Washington. It is composed of thin spring steel, and is worn between the cloth and the lining of a common military vest. It has two leaves, which lap at the edges when the vest is buttoned, so as to cover the entire chest. It weighs only three pounds and a half, and can be worn with ease by any officer or soldier during the most active exercise. It is very strong in proportion to its weight, as it can resist the thrust of a bayonet or sword, and it will repel the bullets of muskets and pistols at ranges which would otherwise be fatal to life.

HERE is a specimen of the material employed to keep up the spirits of the rank and file of the rebel army. It is from the Atlanta (Ga.) Intelligencer of October 8:

A Mutiny among the Union Troops at Washington | -General McClellan shot and mortally wounded.We have received information from a reliable source,

| in regard to the reported slaughter of Federal troops at Washington. It appears that four regiments were required to change their arms, whereupon they mutinied, and Gen. McClellan surrounded them with five regiments. A melee with stones and brickbats then commenced, and to quell the riot, McClellan gave the order to fire. The slaughter is represented to have been fearful. Surely the Lincolnites have commenced the work of blood and carnage among themselves. A report is in circulation that McClellan has since been shot and mortally wounded, but this lacks confirmation.

MEMBERS OF THE CHARLESTON CONVENTION KILLED IN BATTLE.-Major Gavitt, the United States officer killed in the fight at Fredericktown, Mo., was a Douglas delegate to the Charleston Convention from Indiana, and also attended the adjourned session in Baltimore.

On

Lieutenant L. A. Nelms, of Georgia, (a Rebel officer,) reported as killed at the Santa Rosa fight, was a member of the Charleston Convention, and a most devoted Union man. When twenty-six of the Georgia delegates seceded from the Convention, he was one of the ten who refused to vacate their seats, but remained in the Convention till the close. his return home Nelms was accused by one of his seceding colleagues with being untrue to the South on account of his remaining in the "Squatter Sovereignty Convention." A duel was the consequence, in which Nelms was badly wounded in the arm with a bullet. When the Convention reassembled at Baltimore, Mr. Nelms, though still suffering from his wound, again appeared and remained till the close of the Convention.-Baltimore American, Oct. 30.

AMONG the soldiers now at Fort Sumter, is Jas. Cahel, who, a few weeks ago, had the bravery to say that when the Union fleet hove in sight he intended to spike the guns of the fort. For this expression Captain Rhett (son of the editor of the Mercury) ordered him to be tied across a gun and whipped-to receive one hundred and twenty-five lashes, well laid on. The soldiers in the fort rebelled against the infliction of this punishment, and so alarming was the mutiny that Rhett sent to Fort Moultrie for soldiers to quell it. They came, and the man was whipped. This incident, which occurred but two or three weeks ago, shows the state of feeling among the soldiers in Fort Sumter. They are mostly foreigners and Northern men, who having no work, were obliged to go into the army to live.—Milwaukie Wisconsin, Oct. 30.

THE RHODE ISLAND GUNNERS in the late battle at Edwards' Ferry were fourteen in number-ten of them were killed or wounded, and all their horses were killed. As only four escaped unhurt, it is hardly fair to charge such men with any thing except too much bravery. These facts are from the highest authority, and, in the name of the same authority, a 66 protest is entered, &c., &c. J. C. R.-National Intelligencer, Oct. 1.

INCIDENTS IN The Battle of WILD CAT.-A correspondent of the Cincinnati Gazette relates the following:

I will give you a few incidents of the recent fight at Wild Cat, which a regular report could not show. The hill upon which it took place is a round, lofty elevation, a third of a mile from our camp, surrounded by deeply-wooded ravines, and cleared for

the space of about two acres on top. To take and hold this Colonel Coburn, with half his regiment, dashed off through the bushes in a trot from the camp, like boys starting out on a turkey hunt. In ten minutes they could be seen on the high summit taking places. Very shortly they were fired on; the fact is, it was a scramble between Coburn's men and Zollicoffer's which should get on the hill first, approaching from opposite directions. When the firing had fairly commenced, at intervals in the roar could be heard, in the camp, the shrill, wild voices of Coburn, and Durham, his adjutant, ringing out, "Give them hell, boys!" "Dose them with cold lead !" "Shoot the damned hounds!" "Load up, load up, for God's sake!" "Give it to old Gollywhopper!" Then the boys would cheer and yell till the glens re-echoed.

66

Capt. Dille, during the fight, in rushing around and helping on the cause, ran astride a briar bush, the nethermost part of his unmentionables was torn, and a flag of white cotton was seen flaunting in the air. One of the boys said, "Captain, it can't be said of you that you never turned tail on the enemy." By the way, the captain is a heroic fellow, and did, as the boys say, "a big job of fighting." He has a queer old fellow in his company named John Memherter, a crack marksman, with a big goggle, rolling eye. John would take his tree, fire, and then move on a little. At one time he was peeping over a stump taking aim when a ball struck the stump a few inches from the top at the opposite side, which knocked bark and splinters in his eyes. Bully for Jake," says John. This is now a cant phrase in the camp. "Bully for Jake," can be heard at all hours. When Major Ward of the Seventeenth Ohio came over the hill with a part of the regiment, Col. Coburn took him down the hillside in front of the Kentuckians in a somewhat exposed place. Some one asked the colonel why he put him there. "Well," said he, "I eyed him, and he looked like an old bull-dog, so I put him down where he could wool the hounds." The major, you know, never before had a compliment paid to his homely, sturdy face, being rather hard-favored. Next day some of the boys got the joke on him by telling him they had heard his beauty complimented. He asked for the compliment, got it, and drily remarked, "that it was rather an equivocal recommendation of his pretty face."

Almost every officer fought gun in hand, except Cols. Coburn and Woodford, who were armed with navies. Captain Hauser, Adjutant Durham, Capt. Dille, Lieutenants Maze and Scott, more than the men themselves, blazed away at the rebels. What could not men do with such examples set them. When part of the Kentucky boys fled, Capt. Alexander screamed out to the men, 66 Boys, if you are such damned cowards as to run, I'll stay and die." Instantly a boy scarce sixteen years old turned back, ran up to the captain's side, saying, "Yes, Cap., and I'll stay and die with you." He did stay, and others followed his example. In the afternoon when the fighting had ceased, Gen. Schoepff came over to the hill, and taking Cols. Coburn and Woodford by the hand in the presence of the boys, thanked them for saving the hill, for it saved Camp Wildcat and prevented a retreat of our whole force to the other side of the river. Just then a shower of balls whizzed around, and one knocking the dirt in his eyes, the General quietly rubbed it out, and looked around as unconcerned as if at dress parade. He is a noble-looking man, a Hungarian patriot, one of General Bem's

officers, who spent three years in Turkey with him drilling their army.

Just before the enemy made their charges, there could be seen two regiments in a neighboring field. One of the boys said to Col. Coburn, "We'll have to retreat." Another sturdy little fellow stepped up and swore he was not of the running kind, and he'd stay and fight anyhow. He got the cheers, so the boys concluded to stay and did stay about there all that day and night. Such pluck makes one man equal to four. The boys captured an orderly sergeant's book, love letters, a diary, &c., giving details up to the hour of battle. The utmost confidence in victory was expressed.

Since the battle, some of our boys were out looking at a grave of one of the Secesh; he had not been well buried, and one hand stuck out. "He's reaching for his land warrant," says one.

When Col. Coburn and Capt. Dille were rallying the flying Kentuckians, the former found a crowd sheltered behind one stump; he cried out," Pile out, pile out, boys, it don't take seventeen men to guard a black stump." It was electric, they after this fought like men. SPECTATOR.

AN INCIDENT AT THE BATTLE OF ROMNEY.

ROMNEY, VA., Nov. 16, 1861. While the National forces were standing under the enemy's fire, on the day of the battle here, and the shot and shell were flying in every direction around us, a little incident occurred which I think is worthy of notice.

Off

Capt. Butterfield, of the Eighth Ohio regiment, (being one of the ranking captains,) acted as major upon that occasion, and was obliged to ride an old sorrel horse, which had been used as a team horse, and required both spurs and whip, which the captain had provided himself with, the latter cut from a tree and about five feet long. It was found that our small six-pound guns would not reach the enemy's battery, and Col. Mason ordered Captain B. to bring forward a brass twelve-pounder which was in the rear sped the old sorrel and his brave rider, and in a few moments up came the gun. Its position was assigned and made ready for the match, but the captain came dashing back in front of the gun, and the smell of powder or something else had made the old sorrel almost unmanageable, for in trying to wheel him from the front of the gun, the more the captain applied the whip and spur, the more the old sorrel would not go. This kept the gunners in terrible suspense, for much depended on that shot. Finally the captain finding his efforts to move his steed fruitless, he sang out at the top of his voice, 66 never mind the old horse, blaze away;" and sure enough they did blaze away, and it proved a good shot, for it caused the rebels to limber up their battery and take to their heels. At that moment orders came to charge, and off dashed the old sorrel frightened at the discharge of the gun, which had scorched his tail, and mingled in the charge. He was lost to my view until I arrived in the town, where I saw him brought to a stand, and the captain standing in his stirrups, with his cap flying, cheering for the glorious victory that had been achieved.

-Cincinnati Commercial, Nov. 20.

A SOLDIER.

SOUTH CAROLINA THIRTY YEARS AGO.

brated at Charleston by two separate meetings: one the On the 4th of July, 1832, "Independence Day" was celeUnionists, the other the Nullifiers. Colonel Hayne, the

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Southern champion who was so discomfited in the tilt with Webster, spoke to the Nullification meeting, and Drayton, a distinguished Unionist member of Congress, father of Gén. Drayton who commanded at the Port Royal forts during the recent bombardment, to the Unionists. conclusion of Drayton's powerful and splendid oration, the following beautiful ode was chanted by a full choir:

Hail, our country's natal morn!
Hail, our spreading kindred born!
Hail, thou banner, not yet torn,
Waving o'er the free!
While this day in festive throng,
Millions swell the patriot's song,
Shall we not the note prolong?
Hallowed jubilee !

Who would sever Freedom's shrine?
Who would draw the invidious line?
Though by birth one spot be mine,
Dear is all the rest-

Dear to me the South's fair land;
Dear the central mountain band,
Dear New England's rocky strand,
Dear the prairied West.

By our altars pure and free,
By our laws' deep-rooted tree,
By the past's dread memory,

By our Washington

By our common kindred tongue!

By our hopes-bright, buoyant, young,
By the tie of country strong,

We will still be one.

Fathers have ye bled in vain ? Ages, must you droop again? Maker, shall we rashly stain,

Blessings sent by Thee? No receive our solemn vow, While before thy throne we bow, Ever to maintain as now, "Union-Liberty!"

ODE TO AMERICA.

BY GEO. H. BOKER.

No more of girls and wine,

No more of pastoral joys,

At the

No after-sighing for some antique line Of bearded kings who, at their nation's birth,

As children play with toys,

Made merry with our earth:
No more, no more of these!

The girls are pale;

The wine is drunken to the lees;

Still are the bleatings of the woolly fold;
The olden kings look thin and cold,

Like dim belated ghosts

That hurrying sail

Toward their dark graves,

Along the brightening coasts, Chased by the golden lances hurled

From the young sun above his cloudy world.

My country, let me turn to thee,

With love and pride that glow
Pure as twin-altar fires that blow
Their flames together to one Deity.
Look where I may,

O land beneath the iron sway

Of the strong hand;

O land gored through and through
By thy own faithless brand;
Land of once happy homes,

To whose now darkened doors
The hand of sorrow comes,

Early and late, and pours,

With no soft prelude, or no warning beat,
Her urn of bitter tears before thy feet!

O suffering, patient land,

Thou bearest thy awful woe
So grandly, with such high command
Of tears, that dare not flow
For the great godlike smile
Which crowns thy lips the while,
And stills thy mighty heart to move
As calmly on as when the hand of love
Guided thy peaceful realm,

And idly swung the almost useless helm;
That I, who, in my erring thought,

Have often wronged thy fame,

By sneers and taunts of blame,
Bow down with penitence o'erwrought,
And pangs of reverent shame.

Thy rulers put aside thy rights;
Thou murmurest not:

They waste thy gold;

Still thy great cause is not forgot.

Thy ancient foe grows loud, and bold
To proffer counsel, jeers, and spurns;
The swaggering coward burns

With new-found courage; England smites
Thy sensitive, proud cheek:

Smites, like a craven, when she deems thee weak!
Thy pale, stern features blush,
Thy passionate arteries gush
With hot rebellious blood:
But thou stillest the raging flood;

Thou seemest to listen, in a patient hush,
To the audacious kings,

As they prattle empty things.
Thy pale, stern features blush,
From thy heart the churl is spurned;
But thy ready sinews pause,
Remembering thy holy cause,
And the blow is not returned !

Not yet, not yet! Oh! bear,
As the lion in his lair,

Whetting his teeth, and gathering all his strength,
Bears the insulting cry

Of hunters drawing nigh

The dreadful door of his invaded home:
Whence, with a roar and bound, at length-
With bristling hair, with mane that rolls
Above his fiery eyes,

Like the tumultuous vapors of the skies,
Above the piercing lightning-he shall come,
The lordly beast, whose lifted paw controls
The fatal ends of life, and, in his wrath,
Sweep from his onward path

The awe-struck phalanx of his enemies!
I saw thy many squadrons file and form;
I saw them driving through a deadly storm
Of shot. and shell,

Where thousands fell;

But who survived, ah! they, indeed, Were soldiers true; a race to breed Avenging warriors, ripening for the day When thou shalt cast thy shame away.

POETRY AND INCIDENTS.

I saw thy mail-clad fleets, whose ponderous arms
Laugh at the toys of Europe, daily grow
By stream and silent lake.

I saw them glide and take

The sheltered waters, as the wild swan glides,
With scarce a ripple at their moulded sides,
To mar the current in its onward flow.
Swiftly they gathered, by the rising walls
Of armed ports;

Hither and thither at prodigious sports,
To try their watery wings, they sped;

Then snuffed a welcome from the briny breeze,

And, with one will, away they fled

To join their dusky sisters of the seas!
I saw it all; and bending low,

My lips against thy ear I set,
With "Hist! a hope begins to grow!
Bear on, bear on! Not yet, not yet!"

O glory of our race,

Long suffering guardian of the free,
Thou who canst dare to be,

For a great purpose, in a lowly place!—
Thou who canst stretch the olive o'er the wave,
And smite the master of the slave,
Yet wisely measure all

That might and must befall

Ere the great end shall crown the thing to be!-
How shall I honor thee?
How shall I fitly speak,

In song so faint and weak,

Of majesty and wisdom such as thine?
For now the scales so long,
Held on the side of wrong,
To thee again incline;

And thou mayst lift thy radiant head,
And bind thy ring of reappearing stars
About thy forehead, and forget thy scars

In joy at holding that for which they bled!
Resume thy place, unchallenged now,
Nor bow thy glories to the haughtiest brow
That wears a royal crown!

False prophets scowled thee down,
And whispered darkly of thy coming fate:
The cause, the way, the date,

They wrote for thee with the slow augur's hand.-
Their lies were scrawled in sand!
They perished utterly!

What is the splendor of the diadem,

The gilded throne, the broidered carpet-hem,
The purple robe, the sceptre, and the strain
Of foregone kings, whose race
Defies the herald's trace,

Before thy regal steps on land and main?

There are some deeds so grand
That their mighty doers stand
Ennobled, in a moment, more than kings:
And such deeds, O land sublime,
Need no sanctity from time;
Their own epoch they create,
Whence all meaner things take date;
Then exalt thee, for such noble deeds were thine!
Envy nothing born of earth,

Rank nor wealth nor ancient birth,
Nor the glittering sorrows of a crown.
O nation, take in stead

Thy measureless renown,

To wrap thy young limbs like a royal stole,
And God's own flaming aureole,
To settle on thy head!

VOL. III-POETRY 9

THE ARMY OF LIBERTY.

BY REV. J. G. FORMAN.
TUNE-" I am glad I'm in this Army."

I.

Come rally for our country,

For God is on our side;
Come rally for our country,

For God is on our side.
He will aid the cause of Freedom,
He will aid the cause of Freedom,
For which our fathers died.
CHORUS.-I am glad I'm in this army,
I am glad I'm in this army,
I am glad I'm in this army,

For God is on our side;
He will aid the cause of Freedom,
He will aid the cause of Freedom,
For which our fathers died.

II.

In the war of Independence
The battle was begun;
In the war of Independence
The battle was begun.

In the glorious name of Freedom,
In the glorious name of Freedom,
The victory was won.

I am glad I'm in this army, &c.

III.

In the conflict with treason

The battle ne'er give o'er; In the conflict with treason

The battle ne'er give o'er; For the right will ever triumph; For the right will ever triumph, And reign forever more.

I am glad I'm in this army, &c.

IV.

Come join our glorious army,
The victors we shall stand;
Come join our glorious army,
The victors we shall stand,
Shouting liberty forever,
Shouting liberty forever,
Throughout our happy land.

I am glad I'm in this army, &c.,
For the victors we shall stand,
Shouting liberty, forever, &c.

THE AMBULANCE SONG.
Let the broad columns of men advance!
We follow behind with the Ambulance.

They lead us many a weary dance,
But they cannot weary the Ambulance.
We rattle over the flinty stones,

And crush and shatter the shrinking bones.

Here we ride over a Christian skull-
No matter, the Ambulance is full.

Behold! a youthful warrior dead,

But the wheels glide over his fair young head.
See smoke and fire! hear cannon's roar !
Till the bursting ears can hear no more.

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