By Alex B. Meek.
Wouldst thou have me love thee, dearest,
With a woman's proudest heart,
Which shall ever hold thee nearest,
Shrined in its inmost heart?
Listen, then! My country's calling
On her sons to meet the foe!
Leave these groves of rose and myrtle;
Drop thy dreamy harp of love!
Like young Korner--scorn the turtle,
When the eagle screams above!
Dost thou pause?--Let dastards dally--
Do thou for thy country fight!
'Neath her noble emblem rally--
"God, our country, and our right!"
Listen! now her trumpet's calling
On her sons to meet the foe!
Woman's heart is soft and tender,
But 'tis proud and faithful too:
Shall she be her land's defender?
Lover! Soldier! up and do!
Seize thy father's ancient falchion,
Which once flashed as freedom's star!
Till sweet peace--the bow and halcyon,
Stilled the stormy strife of war.
Listen! now thy country's calling
On her sons to meet her foe!
Sweet is love in moonlight bowers!
Sweet the altar and the flame!
Sweet the spring-time with her flowers!
Sweeter far the patriot's name!
Should the God who smiles above thee,
Doom thee to a soldier's grave,
Hearts will break, but fame will love thee,
Canonized among the brave!
Listen, then! thy country's calling
On her sons to meet the foe!
Rather would I view thee lying
On the last red field of strife,
'Mid thy country's heroes dying,
Than become a dastard's wife!
Enlisted To-Day.
I know the sun shines, and the lilacs are blowing,
And summer sends kisses by beautiful May--
Oh! to see all the treasures the spring is bestowing,
And think--my boy Willie enlisted to-day.
It seems but a day since at twilight, low humming,
I rocked him to sleep with his cheek upon mine,
While Robby, the four-year old, watched for the coming
Of father, adown the street's indistinct line.
It is many a year since my Harry departed,
To come back no more in the twilight or dawn;
And Robby grew weary of watching, and started
Alone on the journey his father had gone.
It is many a year--and this afternoon sitting
At Robby's old window, I heard the band play,
And suddenly ceased dreaming over my knitting,
To recollect Willie is twenty to-day.