And his broad sword was swinging,
And his brazen throat was ringing
Trumpet loud.

Then the blue
Bullets flew,

And the trooper-jackets redden at the touch

of the leaden

Rifle-breath.

And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared the
iron six-pounder,
Hurling death!

GUY HUMPHREY MCMASTER.

SONG OF MARION'S MEN.

OUR band is few, but true and tried,
Our leader frank and bold;
The British soldier trembles
When Marion's name is told.
Our fortress is the good greenwood,

Our tent the cypress-tree;
We know the forest round us,

As seamen know the sea.

We know its walls of thorny vines,

Its glades of reedy grass,

Its safe and silent islands

Within the dark morass.

Wo to the English soldiery

That little dread us near!
On them shall light at midnight
A strange and sudden fear,
When, waking to their tents on fire,
They grasp their arms in vain,
And they who stand to face us

Are beat to earth again;

And they who fly in terror, deem
A mighty host behind,

And hear the tramp of thousands
Upon the hollow wind.

Then sweet the hour that brings release

From danger and from toil;

We talk the battle over,

With merry songs we mock the wind
That in the pine-top grieves,
And slumber long and sweetly

On beds of oaken leaves.

Well knows the fair and friendly moon
The band that Marion leads-
The glitter of their rifles,

The scampering of their steeds.
'Tis life to guide the fiery barb
Across the moonlight plain;
'Tis life to feel the night-wind
That lifts his tossing mane.
A moment in the British camp-
A moment-and away!
Back to the pathless forest,

Before the peep of day.

Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs;
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers.
And lovely ladies greet our band
With kindliest welcoming,
With smiles like those of Summer,
And tears like those of Spring.
For them we wear these trusty arms,
And lay them down no more
Till we have driven the Briton,
For ever, from our shore.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.

O! SAY, can you see by the dawn's early light

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming!

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;

The woodland rings with laugh and shout, O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet

And share the battle's spoil.

As if a hunt were up,

To crown the soldier's cup.

And woodland flowers are gathered

wave

O'er the land of the free, and the home of

the brave?

THE AMERICAN FLAG.