The nobler nature within him stirred
  To life at that woman’s deed and word: 

  “Who touches a hair of yon gray head
  Dies like a dog!  March on!” he said.

  All day long through Frederick street
  Sounded the tread of marching feet;

  All day long that free flag tost
  Over the heads of the rebel host.

  Ever its torn folds rose and fell
  On the loyal winds that loved it well;

  And through the hill-gaps sunset light
  Shone over it with a warm good-night.

  Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er. 
  And the rebel rides on his raids no more.

  Honor to her! and let a tear
  Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.

  Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave,
  Flag of freedom and union, wave!

  Peace and order and beauty draw
  Round thy symbol of light and law;

  And ever the stars above look down
  On thy stars below in Frederick town!

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

* * * * *

CAVALRY SONG.  FROM “ALICE OF MONMOUTH.”

  Our good steeds snuff the evening air,
    Our pulses with their purpose tingle;
  The foeman’s fires are twinkling there;
    He leaps to hear our sabres jingle! 
          HALT! 
  Each carbine send its whizzing ball: 
  Now, cling! clang! forward all,
        Into the fight!

Dash on beneath the smoking dome: 
Through level lightnings gallop nearer! 
One look to Heaven!  No thoughts of home: 
The guidons that we bear are dearer. 
CHARGE! 
Cling! clang! forward all! 
Heaven help those whose horses fall: 
Cut left and right!

They flee before our fierce attack! 
They fall! they spread in broken surges. 
Now, comrades, bear our wounded back,
And leave the foeman to his dirges. 
WHEEL! 
The bugles sound the swift recall: 
Cling! clang! backward all! 
Home, and good night!

EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN.

* * * * *

CAVALRY SONG.

  Our bugles sound gayly.  To horse and away! 
  And over the mountains breaks the day;
  Then ho! brothers, ho! for the ride or the fight,
  There are deeds to be done ere we slumber to-night!
    And whether we fight or whether we fall
       By sabre-stroke or rifle-ball,
       The hearts of the free will remember us yet,
       And our country, our country will never forget!

  Then mount and away! let the coward delight
  To be lazy all day and safe all night;
  Our joy is a charger, flecked with foam,
  And the earth is our bed and the saddle our home!
    And whether we fight, etc.

  See yonder the ranks of the traitorous foe,
  And bright in the sunshine bayonets glow! 
  Breathe a prayer, but no sigh; think for what you would fight;
  Then charge! with a will, boys, and God for the right!
    And whether we fight, etc.