Right and left the caissons drew As the car went lumbering through, Quick succeeding in review Squadrons military; Sunburnt men with beards like frieze, Smooth-faced boys, and cries like these: “U. S. San. Com.” “That’s the cheese!” “Pass in, Sanitary!” In such cheer it struggled on Till the battle front was won; Then the car, its journey done, Lo! was stationary; And where bullets whistling fly Came the sadder, fainter cry: “Help us, brothers, ere we die!-- Save us, Sanitary!” Such the work. The phantom flies, Wrapped in battle-clouds that rise; But the brave--whose dying eyes, Veiled and visionary, See the jasper gates swung wide, See the parted throng outside-- Hears the voice to those who ride: “Pass in, Sanitary!” [Illustration] [Illustration] THE MEN. BY MAURICE BELL. In the dusk of the forest shade A sallow and dusty group reclined; Gallops a horseman up the glade-- “Where will I your leader find? Tidings I bring from the morning’s scout-- I’ve borne them o’er mound and moor and fen.” “Well, sir, stay not hereabout, Here are only a few of ‘the men.’ “Here no collar has bar or star, No rich lacing adorns the sleeve; Further on our officers are, Let them your report receive. Higher up on the hill up there, Overlooking this shady glen, There are their quarters--don’t stop here, We are only some of ‘the men.’ “Yet stay, courier, if you bear Tidings that a fight is near; Tell them we’re ready, and that where They wish us to be we’ll soon appear; Tell them only to let us know Where to form our ranks and when; And we’ll teach the vaunting foe That they’ve met with some of ‘the men.’ “We’re _the men_, though our clothes are worn-- We’re _the men_, though we wear no lace-- We’re _the men_, who the foe have torn, And scattered their ranks in dire disgrace-- We’re the men who have triumphed before-- We’re the men who will triumph again; For the dust and the smoke and the cannon’s roar, And the clashing bayonets--‘we’re the men.’ “Ye who sneer at the battle-scars, Of garments faded and soiled and bare, Yet who have for the ‘stars and bars’ Praise and homage and dainty fare; Mock the wearers and pass them on, Refuse them kindly word--and then Know if your freedom is ever won By human agents--these are the men!” [Southern.] [Illustration] THE GUERILLAS. BY S. TEACKLE WALLIS. Awake! and to horse my brothers, For the dawn is glimmering gray, And hark! in the crackling brushwood, There are feet that tread this way. “Who cometh?” “A friend.” “What tidings?“ “O God! I sicken to tell, For the earth seems earth no longer, And its sights are the sights of hell.