There's one that begins,--
"Our Father;" and then says, "Forgive us our sins,"--
Don't forget that part, say that strongly, and then
I'll try to repeat it, and you'll say, Amen!
Ah, I'm no saint!
Hark! there's a shout!
Raise me up, comrades, we've conquered, I know,
Up, up, on my feet, with my face to the foe.
Ah! there flies our flag with its star-spangles bright,
The promise of victory, the symbol of might,
Well! may we shout.
I'm mustered out!
Oh! God of our Fathers, our freedom prolong,
And tread down oppression, rebellion, and wrong.
Oh! land of earth's hope, on thy blood-reddened sod,
I die for the Nation, the Union, and God.
I'm mustered out!
_Anon._
* * * * *
THE WHISTLER.
"You have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart, who stood
While he sat on a corn sheaf, at daylight's decline,--
"You have heard of the Danish boy's whistle of wood:
I wish that the Danish boy's whistle were mine."
"And what would you do with it? Tell me," she said,
While an arch smile played over her beautiful face,
"I would blow it," he answered, "and then my fair maid
Would fly to my side and would there take her place.
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