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63. the march of the “Seventh.”

What means this eager rush? whence this commotion?
Why surge the people thus, like a lashed ocean?
See, the vast multitude, crowding and craving;
See, from each lofty staff stars and stripes waving!

Banners from balcony, banners from steeple,
Banners from house to house, draping the people;
Banners upborne by all, men, women, children,
Banners on horses' fronts, flashing, bewildering.

Hark! there's a trumpet-blast strikes on the hearing;
Now the quick drum-beat comes rapidly nearing;
Blue forms with clubs in hand, steadily banding,
Through the compacted crowd pathway demanding.

Drums beat, and trumpets sound, louder and louder,
Bugles and cornets mix deep tones and prouder;
Whose is that solid front? whose is that thick step?
Whose, but the “Seventh's” tread, moves to that quickstep?

On comes the Regiment, like to none other;
Who has not in its ranks loved son or brother?
If he has none of these, not e'en a cousin,
He served himself in it, years by the dozen.

Know ye the city's heart in that mass mingles?
Hear, the responsive throb everywhere tingles!
Now, as they're moving past, shout, sob, and greeting,
Love's deep devotion they're constantly meeting.

See, 'midst the serried ranks, none now objecting,
Hundreds of laymen the flanks seem protecting,
Crowding between platoons, filling the spaces,
Many a manly form steadily paces!

Those are the fathers, proud eyes overflowing,
On Freedom's altar their best blood bestowing;
Gladly they give their sons, each true heart bleeding,
Offering the noblest to Liberty's needing.

Oh, 'tis a costly gift now they are bringing,
And on their country's shrine willingly flinging;
One gives his five sons, others their four, three, two--
Ye who have sons there, ah, how do I envy you!

There stands brave Anderson, watching them, breathless--
Glory's new-born son, whose name now is deathless;
Looks he not proudly on? Soon they espy him,
Loud rings their homage cheer, as they pass by him.

Why does he drop a tear? why is he weeping,
As that majestic march past him is sweeping?
Ah, he beholds in them, earnest and steady,
Hearts like his noble own, for sacrifice ready.

He knows the savage horde lately contending,
Not as our sires fought, Justice defending,
But, with the tiger's fangs, stealthily seeking
Power the weak to scourge, 'midst tears and shrieking.

Hero of Sumter! thy name is forever
Coupled with Glory, and ne'er will we sever
“Manhood and Anderson.” Freedom's libation
Pours forth from million hearts through all the nation.

Vengeance is now the cry, no more betraying;
Treating with traitors is senseless delaying;
Sons of the Bay State their Sumner remember;
Wrongs to be righted now wake from their slumber.

Pass on the battle-cry! sound it forth, trumpeter!
Hand it from man to man--“Sumner and Sumter
Hark! now from Baltimore comes, madly driven,
One more foul insult that can't be forgiven.

Go forth, then, gallant hearts, bearing the casket
Holding our city's blood — seek not to mask it!
Fling it before you far, fight your way to it;
Stay them not, Maryland, or you will rue it!

Fathers are arming fast, mothers are praying,
While you are noble deeds skilfully playing;
Soon we will follow you; New York is coming!
Hark, do you hear the rush, like Niagara booming?

Onward, then, “Seventh!” delay not, nor waver!
Rush to fair Freedom's side, guard her and save her!
Give the vile vulture brood — kites, buzzards, marauders--
The feast that they're lusting for from their own borders!

--N. Y. Tribune, April 23.

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