IX. "I'm ready, General, so you let a post to me be given, Where Washington can see me, as he looks from highest heaven, And say to Putnam at his side, or, may be, General Wayne ; There stands old Billy Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane!' X. "And when the fight is hottest, before the traitors fly, When shell and ball are screeching and bursting in the sky, If any shot should hit me, and lay me on my face, My soul would go to Washington's, and not to Arnold's place!" May, 1861. MARCH. ITH rushing winds and gloomy skies March! By streams still held in icy snare, March! What though conflicting seasons make And hope is stronger for thy sake, March! Then from thy mountains, ribbed with snow, March! Say to the picket, chilled and numb; Cry to the waiting hosts that stray By marshy isle and gleaming bay, March! Where Southern March is Northern May: Announce thyself with welcome noise, Above the proud, heroic boys March! Of Iowa and Illinois : March! Then down the long Potomac's line Till ramrods ring and bayonets shine: March 1, 1862. MARCH!" A THOUSAND YEARS. [NOVGOROD, RUSSIA, SEPT. 20, 1862.] THOUSAND years! Through storm and fire, With varying fate, the work has grown, Till Alexander crowns the spire, Where Rurik laid the corner-stone. The chieftain's sword, that could not rust, A nation grander than he knew. Nor he, alone; but those who have, Vladimir's arm and Nikon's heart: The later hands, that built so well The work sublime which these began, And up from base to pinnacle Wrought out the Empire's mighty plan. All these, to-day, are crowned anew, From Volga's banks; from Dwina's side; From Altaï's chain of mountain-cones; And lands that bind, through changing zones, To every race she gives a home, And creeds and laws enjoy her shade, She blends the virtues they impart, The patient faith of Asia's heart, The force of Europe's restless mind. She bids the nomad's wanderings cease; And, nobler yet, she dares to know Her future's task, nor knows in vain; But strikes at once the generous blow That makes her millions men again! So, firmer-based, her power expands, That Peace the offspring is of Power. Build, then, the storied bronze, to tell The toil of Man, the help of God! And may the thousand years to come, Still find, a symbol stern and grand, A DAY IN MARCH. OOK forth, Beloved, from thy mansion By soft airs fanned, And see the summer from her bluest sky See how the bare hills bask in purple bliss On the brown death of winter falls a kiss From summer's mouth! From pines that weave, among the ravished trees, A murmur comes, as sought the ghosts of bees |