And I fain would hear the south wind
Bring once more the sound to me,
Of the wavelets softly breaking

On the shores of Tennessee.

2. Mournful though the ripples murmur,

As they still the story tell,

How no vessels float the banner
That I've loved so long and well.
I shall listen to their music,

Dreaming that again I see

Stars and stripes on sloop and shallop
Sailing up the Tennessee;

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,
You shall greet it, slave no longer-
Voice and hand shall both be free
That shout and point to Union colors
On the waves of Tennessee."

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.
Over yonder, Missis' sleeping-

No one tends her grave like me:
Mebbe she would miss the flowers
She used to love in Tennessee.

5. ""Pears like, she was watching MassaIf Pompey should beside him stay, Mebbe she'd remember better

How for him she used to pray;
Telling him that way up yonder
White as snow his soul would be,
If he served the Lord of Heaven
While he lived in Tennessee.”

6. Silently the tears were rolling

Down the poor old dusky face,
As he stepped behind his master,
In his long-accustomed place.
Then a silence fell around them,
As they gazed on rock and tree
Pictured in the placid waters

Of the rolling Tennessee ;

7. Master, dreaming of the battle

Where he fought by Marion's side,
When he bid the haughty Tarleton
Stoop his lordly crest of pride ;—
Man, remembering how yon sleeper
Once he held upon his knee,
Ere she loved the gallant soldier,
Ralph Vervair of Tennessee.

8. Still the south wind fondly lingers
'Mid the veteran's silver hair;
Still the bondman close beside him
Stands behind the old arm-chair,
With his dark-hued hand uplifted,
Shading eyes, he bends to see
Where the woodland, boldly jutting,
Turns aside the Tennessee.

9. Thus he watches cloud-born shadows
Glide from tree to mountain-crest,
Softly creeping, aye and ever

To the river's yielding breast.
Ha! above the foliage yonder
Something flutters wild and free!
"Massa! Massa! Hallelujah!

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,
Give a freeman's shout with me-
'God and Union!' be our watchword
Evermore in Tennessee!"

11. Then the trembling voice grew fainter,
And the limbs refused to stand;
One prayer to Jesus-and the soldier
Glided to the better land.

When the flag went down the river

Man and master both were free;
While the ring-dove's note was mingled
With the rippling Tennessee.

LXXIX. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

1. It was a summer evening;

Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun;

And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

2. She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet,

In playing there, had found.

He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large and smooth and round,

8. Old Kaspar took it from the boy,

Who stood expectant by ;

And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,

""Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he,
Who fell in the great victory.

4. "I find them in the garden,
For there's many here about;
And often, when I go to plow,

5.

The plowshare turns them out;
For many thousand men," said he,
"Were slain in that great victory."

Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up

With wonder-waiting eyes;
"Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for."

6. "It was the English," Kaspar cried,
"Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other for,
I could not well make out;
But every body said," quoth he,
"That 'twas a famous victory.

7. "My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by ;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly;

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
And new-born baby died;

But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.

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
After a famous victory.

10. Great praise the Duke of Marlb'ro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene."
"Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!"
Said little Wilhelmine.

"Nay-nay-my little girl," quoth he,
"It was a famous victory.

11. "And every body praised the Duke,
Who this great fight did win."
"But what good came of it at last?"
Quoth little Peterkin.

"Why, that I can not tell," said he;
"But 'twas a famous victory."

LXXX.-FIELD LILIES.

ANONYMOUS.

1. Lily bells! lily bells! swinging and ringing
Sweet golden bells on the still summer air,
Are ye calling the birds to their matins of singing,
Summoning Nature to worship and prayer?

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?