And down upon his ranks again. Summoned to dare a deed like that, Which of them all would answer then?

What sullen regiment is this

That lifts its eyes to dread Cutchee ?
Abased, its standard bears no flag.
For thus the punishment shall be
That England metes to Englishmen
Who shame her once by mutiny.

From out the disgraced Sixty-Fourth
There stepped a hundred men of might.
Cried Napier: "Now prove to me
I read my soldiers' hearts aright!
Form! Forward! Charge, my volunteers!
Your colors are on yonder height!"

So sad is shame, so wise is trust!
The challenge echoed bugle-clear.
Like fire along the Sixty-Fourth
From rank to file rang cheer on cheer.
In death and glory up the pass
They fought for all to brave men dear.

Old is the tale, but read anew
In every warring human heart.
What rebel hours, what coward shame,
Upon the aching memory start!
To find the ideal forfeited,

What tears can teach the holy art?

Thou great Commander! leading on
Through weakest darkness to strong light;
By any anguish, give us back
Our life's young standard, pure and bright.
and bright.
O fair, lost Colors of the soul !
For

your sake storm we any height.

We watched their flight, and saw them strike
Deep in the ground slantwiso alike,

So far away that they might pass
For two thin straws of broom-sedge grass!

Then arm in arm we doubting went
To find whose shaft was farthest sent,

Each fearing in his loving heart
That brother's shaft had fallen short.

But who could tell by such a plan
Which of us was the stronger man?

There at the margin of the wood,
Side by side our arrows stood,
Their red cock-feathers wing and wing,
Their amber nocks still quivering,

Their points deep-planted where they fell
Au iuch apart and parallel !

We clasped each other's hands; said he, "Twin champions of the world are we!"

A CREOLE SLAVE-SONG (Ah, lo zo-zo chan' danꞌ branche) WHAT bird is that, with voice so sweet, Sings to the sun from yonder tree? What girl is that so slim and fleet, Comes through the cane her love to meet ? Foli zo-zo, sing merrily.

The pretty girl she comes to me!

What wind is that upon the cane?

What perfume from a far-off rose Fills me with dreams? What strange, vague pain

Stirs in my heart? What longing vain
Is this that through my bosom goes?
O south wind, perfume and desire,
You kiss, you soothe, you burn like fire!

Ah, no! Ah, no! It is a cheat.

There is no bird; my love comes not; The wind chills me from head to feet, And oh, it brings no perfume sweet.

My slender girl the white man bought, And took her far across the bay — I cannot cut the caue to-day!

I cannot cut the cane to-day

O zo-20, moquer, come and sing!

O warm wind, through the cane-field stray,
Wave the long moss so soft and gray !

I have no heart for anything;
But life was heaven and work was play
When my love loved me every day!

White man, how I worked for you

When I was young and blithe and strong! The earth was green, the sky was blue, My love's eyes were as bright as dew; And life was like the 20-zo's song! But sold you - you my love I cannot cut the cane to-day!

away

I did not dream a slave could be

A man, and right a grievous wrong.
I writhed and bore your cruelty;
I felt the soul go out of me;

And yet, I was so lion-strong

I could have torn your heart away —
I cannot cut the cane to-day!

Freedom! I feel it when too late,

Like spring wind on a blasted tree,
A waft of mockery and hate!
Bring back my chains, O cruel Fate !

Bring youth and slavery back to me; Bring back the lash, the hound, the pain, So that my own love come again!

But hark! A gentle voice afar

Calls me to go, I know not whereYes, past the sun and past the star,

trust,

Who fought, with conscience clear, on either side;

Who bearded Death and thought their cause was just;

Their stainless honor cannot be denied;
All patriots they beyond the farthest doubt;
Ring it and sing it up and down the land,
And let no voice dare answer it with sneers,
Or shut its meaning out;

Ring it and sing it, we go hand in hand,
Old infantry, old cavalry, old cannoneers.

And if Virginia's vales shall ring again
To battle-yell of Moseby or Malone,
If Wilder's wild brigade or Morgan's men
Once more wheel into line; or all alone
A Sheridan shall ride, a Cleburne fall, -
There will not be two flags above them fly-

ing,

But both in one, welded in that pure flame Upflaring in us all,

When kindred unto kindred, loudly cry ing,

Rally and cheer in freedom's holy name!