Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,

When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,

And waves were white below,

No more shall feel the victor's tread,

Or know the conquered knee;
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!

Oh, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave:
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

New World and Old Glory

Indians

Alas! for them, their day is o'er,

Their fires are out on hill and shore;

No more for them the wild deer bounds,
The plough is on their hunting grounds;

The pale man's axe rings through their woods,
The pale man's sail skims o'er their floods;

New Their pleasant springs are dry;

World

and Old

Glory

Their children,-look, by power opprest,
Beyond the mountains of the west,

Their children go to die.

CHARLES SPRAGUE.

Crossing the Plains *

What great yoked brutes with briskets low;
With wrinkled necks like buffalo,

With round, brown, liquid, pleading eyes,
That turned so slow and sad to you,
That shone like love's eyes soft with tears,
That seemed to plead, and make replies,
The while they bowed their necks and drew
The creaking load; and looked at you.
Their sable briskets swept the ground,
Their cloven feet kept solemn sound.

Two sullen bullocks led the line,

Their great eyes shining bright like wine;
Two sullen captive kings were they,

That had in time held herds at bay,

And even now they crushed the sod
With stolid sense of majesty,

And stately stepped and stately trod,

From "The Complete Poetical Works of Joaquin

Miller" (copyrighted).

The Whitaker-Ray Company, San Francisco.

By permission of the publishers,

As if 't were something still to be

Kings even in captivity.

JOAQUIN MIller.

Concord Hymn

Sung at the completion of the Battle Monument,
April 19, 1836.

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;

Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;

And Time the ruined bridge has swept

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On the green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;
That memory may her dead redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare

To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

New World and Old

Glory

New World snd Old Glory

Ode

Sung in the Town Hall, Concord, July 4, 1857.

O tenderly the haughty day

Fills his blue urn with fire;

One morn is in the mighty heaven,
And one in our desire.

The cannon booms from town to town,
Our pulses beat not less,

The joy-bells chime their tidings down,
Which children's voices bless.

For He that flung the broad blue fold
O'er-mantling land and sea,
One third part of the sky unrolled
For the banner of the free.

The men are ripe of Saxon kind
To build an equal state,-
To take the statute from the mind
And make of duty fate.

United States! the ages plead,

Present and Past in under-song,-
Go put your creed into your deed,
Nor speak with double tongue.

For sea and land don't understand,
Nor skies without a frown

See rights for which the one hand fights
By the other cloven down.

Be just at home; then write your scroll

Of honor o'er the sea,

And bid the broad Atlantic roll,

A ferry of the free.

And henceforth there shall be no chain,

Save underneath the sea

The wires shall murmur through the main
Sweet songs of liberty.

The conscious stars accord above,

The waters wild below,

And under, through the cable wove,
Her fiery errands go.

For He that worketh high and wise,
Nor pauses in His plan,

Will take the sun out of the skies,

Ere freedom out of man.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

New World and Old Glory

Stanzas on Freedom

Is true Freedom but to break
Fetters for our own dear sake,
And, with leathern hearts, forget
That we owe mankind a debt?
No! true freedom is to share
All the chains our brothers wear,