And I fain would hear the south wind On the shores of Tennessee. 2. Mournful though the ripples murmur, As they still the story tell, How no vessels float the banner Dreaming that again I see Stars and stripes on sloop and shallop 3. "And, Pompey, while old Massa's waiting For Death's last dispatch to come, If that exiled starry banner Should come proudly sailing home, 4. "Massa's berry kind to Pompey; But old darkey's happy here, Where he's tended corn and cotton For dese many a long gone year. No one tends her grave like me: 5. ""Pears like, she was watching MassaIf Pompey should beside him stay, Mebbe she'd remember better How for him she used to pray; 6. Silently the tears were rolling Down the poor old dusky face, Of the rolling Tennessee ; 7. Master, dreaming of the battle Where he fought by Marion's side, 8. Still the south wind fondly lingers 9. Thus he watches cloud-born shadows To the river's yielding breast. The flag's come back to Tennessee!" 10. "Pompey, hold me on your shoulder, Help me stand on foot once more, That I may salute the colors As they pass my cabin door. Here's the paper signed that frees you, 11. Then the trembling voice grew fainter, When the flag went down the river Man and master both were free; LXXIX. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. ROBERT SOUTHEY. 1. It was a summer evening; Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green 2. She saw her brother Peterkin In playing there, had found. He came to ask what he had found, 8. Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by ; And then the old man shook his head, ""Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, 4. "I find them in the garden, 5. The plowshare turns them out; Now tell us what 'twas all about," With wonder-waiting eyes; 6. "It was the English," Kaspar cried, 7. "My father lived at Blenheim then, So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head. 8. "With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a nursing mother then But things like that, you know, must be 9. "They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun; But things like that, you know, must be 10. Great praise the Duke of Marlb'ro' won, "Nay-nay-my little girl," quoth he, 11. "And every body praised the Duke, "Why, that I can not tell," said he; LXXX.-FIELD LILIES. ANONYMOUS. 1. Lily bells! lily bells! swinging and ringing 2. Lily bells! lily bells! daintily swaying, Poising your petals like butterflies' wings, As the breeze murmurs round you, pray, what is he saying? Is he whispering love-words and soft, pretty things? 3. Lily bells! lily bells! 'mid the long grasses Gleaming like sunbeams in still shady bower, Have you stolen your gold from the sun as he passes? Are ye guarding your treasure in bud and in flower? 4. Lily bells! lily bells! bowing and bending, Are ye nodding a welcome to me as I go? Do ye know that my heart bears a love never-ending For bright golden lily-bells all in a row? |