Twilight Stories

THE AMERICAN FLAG.

 When freedom from her mountain height
      Unfurled her standard to the air,
  She tore the azure robe of night,
      And set the stars of glory there.
  She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
  The milky baldric of the skies,
  And striped its pure celestial white
  With streakings of the morning light;
  Then from his mansion in the sun,
  She called her eagle bearer down,
  And gave into his mighty hand
  The symbol of her chosen land.

 Majestic monarch of the cloud,
      Who rears't aloft thy regal form,
  To hear the tempest-trumpings loud,
  And see the lightning-lances driven,
      When strive the warriors of the storm,
  And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven—
  Child of the sun!  to thee is given
      To guard the banner of the free,
  To hover in the sulphur smoke,
  To ward away the battle stroke,
  And bid its blendings shine afar,
  Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
      The harbingers of victory!

 Flag of the brave!  thy folds shall fly,
  The sign of hope and triumph high,
 When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
  And the long line comes gleaming on.
  Ere yet the life-blood warm and wet
  Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
  Each soldier's eyes shall brightly turn
  To where thy sky-born glories burn;
  And, as his springing steps advance,
  Catch war and vengeance from the glance.
  And when the cannon's mouthings loud
  Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud,
  And gory sabers rise and fall
  Like darts of flame on midnight's pall,
  Then shall thy meteor glances glow,
      And cowering foes shall sink beneath
  Each gallant arm that strikes below
      That lovely messenger of death.

 Flag of the seas!  On ocean wave
  Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave;
  When death, careering on the gale,
  Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
  And frightened waves rush wildly back
  Before the broadside's reeling rack
  Each dying wanderer of the sea
  Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
  And smile to see thy splendors fly
  In triumph o'er his closing eye.

 Flag of the free heart's hope and home,
      By angel hands to valor given;
  Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,
      And all thy hues were born in heaven.
  Forever float that standard sheet!
      Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
  With freedom's soil beneath our feet,
      And freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
     JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.

 We will swing the rope for Baby dear,
      So jump, jump, jump!
  That you will trip her up I fear,
      But jump, jump, jump!
           Swing it easy and low,
           Steady and slow,
      Or down the dear tot will go.

 A crafty Fox crept forth one day
  And over the hills he scampered away
      In search of a fine, fat hen;
  But old dog Sport was keeping guard,
  When Fox leaped into our chicken yard,
      And chased him back to his den.