Hobson went towards death and hell,
Hobson and his men,
Unregarding shot and shell,
And the rain of fire that fell;
Calm, undaunted, fearless, bold,
Every heart a heart of gold,
Steadfast, daring, uncontrolled,—
Hobson and his men.
Hobson came from death and hell,
Hobson and his men,
Shout the tidings, ring the bell,
Let the pealing anthems swell;
Back from wreck and raft and wave,
From the shadow of the grave,
Every honor to the brave.—
Hobson and his men.
Robert Loveman.
Meanwhile, nearer home, things were moving slowly enough, for the War Department developed a startling unpreparedness and inefficiency. Two hundred thousand volunteers were called for, but, though every state responded instantly, the work of mobilizing these troops was conducted in so bungling a fashion that, by the beginning of June, only three regiments, in addition to the regulars, had reached the rendezvous at Tampa, Florida.
THE CALL TO THE COLORS
"Are you ready, O Virginia,
Alabama, Tennessee?
People of the Southland, answer!
For the land hath need of thee."
"Here!" from sandy Rio Grande,
Where the Texan horsemen ride;
"Here!" the hunters of Kentucky
Hail from Chatterawah's side;
Every toiler in the cotton,
Every rugged mountaineer,
Velvet-voiced and iron-handed,
Lifts his head to answer, "Here!
Some remain who charged with Pickett,
Some survive who followed Lee;
They shall lead their sons to battle
For the flag, if need there be."
"Are you ready, California,
Arizona, Idaho?
'Come, oh, come, unto the colors!'
Heard you not the bugle blow?"
Falls a hush in San Francisco
In the busy hives of trade;
In the vineyards of Sonoma
Fall the pruning knife and spade;
In the mines of Colorado
Pick and drill are thrown aside;
Idly in Seattle harbor
Swing the merchants to the tide;
And a million mighty voices
Throb responsive like a drum,
Rolling from the rough Sierras,
"You have called us, and we come."
O'er Missouri sounds the challenge—
O'er the great lakes and the plain;
"Are you ready, Minnesota?
Are you ready, men of Maine?"
From the woods of Ontonagon,
From the farms of Illinois,
From the looms of Massachusetts,
"We are ready, man and boy."
Axemen free, of Androscoggin,
Clerks who trudge the cities' paves,
Gloucester men who drag their plunder
From the sullen, hungry waves,
Big-boned Swede and large-limbed German,
Celt and Saxon swell the call,
And the Adirondacks echo:
"We are ready, one and all."
Truce to feud and peace to faction!
All forgot is party zeal
When the war-ships clear for action,
When the blue battalions wheel.
Europe boasts her standing armies,—
Serfs who blindly fight by trade;
We have seven million soldiers,
And a soul guides every blade.
Laborers with arm and mattock,
Laborers with brain and pen,
Railroad prince and railroad brakeman
Build our line of fighting men.
Flag of righteous wars! close mustered
Gleam the bayonets, row on row,
Where thy stars are sternly clustered,
With their daggers towards the foe!
Arthur Guiterman.