“Though furled be the banner of blood on the plain, And rusted the sabre once crimsoned with gore; Though hushed be the ravens that croaked o’er the slain, And calmed into silence the battle’s loud roar; Though Peace with her rosy smile gladden the vales, And Commerce unshackled dance over the wave; Though Music and Song may enliven the gales, And Joy crown with roses and myrtle the brave; Like spirits that start from the sleep of the dead, Our heroes shall rouse when the ’larum shall blow; Then Freedom’s broad flag on the wind shall be spread, And Valour’s sword flash in the face of the foe. Our Eagle shall rise ’mid the whirlwinds of war, And dart through the dun cloud of battle his eye— Shall spread his wide wings on the tempest afar, O’er spirits of valour that conquer or die. And ne’er shall the rage of the conflict be o’er, And ne’er shall the warm blood of life cease to flow, And still ’mid the smoke of the battle shall roam Our Eagle—till scattered and fled be the foe. When Peace shall disarm War’s dark brow of its frown, And roses shall bloom on the soldier’s rude grave— Then Honour shall weave of the laurel a crown, That Beauty shall bind on the brow of the brave.”—PERCIVAL. [Illustration] INDIAN FALLS, OPPOSITE WEST POINT. * * * * * This is a secluded and delicious bit of nature, hidden amid rocks and woods, on the shore of the Hudson, but possessing a refinement and an elegance in its wildness which would almost give one the idea that it was an object of beauty in some royal park. One of the most secret streams that feed this finest of our rivers, finds its way down through a winding and almost trackless channel; and after fretting over rocks, and loitering in dark and limpid pools for several miles, suddenly bursts out over a precipice of fifty feet, and fills with its clear waters the sheltered basin seen in the drawing. Immense trees overhang it on every side, and follow the stream still on in its course; and, in the depth of summer, the foaming current scarcely catches a ray of the sun from its source to its outlet. The floor of the basin below the Falls is pebbly, the water is clear and cool, the spot secluded, and, in all respects, Nature has formed it for a bath. A fair and famous lady, residing a summer or two since at West Point, was its first known Musidora, and the limpid and bright basin is already called after her name.