Our mothers by our fathers stood, As if, in War, they had been wooed; Tho’ fragile were their yielding forms While rolled the war-cloud and the storms. And yet, heroic as their lords, They cheered with smiles, with tears, with words. But while they trembled at their homes, They leaned on God whence victory comes. Then shout the Flag, our Mothers’ Flag, In memory of their well-spent lives; Then wave the Flag, our Mothers’ Flag, The Star-gemmed Flag of brave hearts and their wives. 51 Our Sisters, too, were bravely dear, They gave their smiles, they wept their tear; And rested in their mothers’ arms, Or often woke to war’s alarms. But while their hearts in sorrows moved, And wept the brothers that they loved, They knew the strife was for the free, Their Country and for Liberty. Then hail the Flag, our Sisters’ Flag, Its Stars and Stripes their zones shall be; Then wave the Flag, our Sisters’ Flag, The Star-gemmed Flag our Sisters’ zones shall be. A seven-years’ war was past and gone, And many a heart was left forlorn; But prouder o’er our Western shore, Its Eagle-Bird was seen to soar; And in his talons, as he flies, He bears our Flag of victories; And ever shall that Banner be, The hope, the shield of Liberty. Then shout the Flag, our Country’s Flag, The Banner-Flag of Liberty; Then wave the Flag, our UNION’S Flag, The Star-gemmed Flag of brave hearts and the free. And on the land, and on the sea, Wherever roam her sons from thee, Our Nation’s Flag shall ope its fold, The loved and honored of the world; For right, not might shall be its claim, As “Flag of Freedom” is its name; While Armies shall our emblem bear, And Navies our proud bunting wear. Then shout the Flag, our Army’s flag, The Flag of Right and Liberty; Then hail the Flag, our Navy’s Flag, The Star-gemmed Flag of brave hearts and the free. 52 Words of Sympathy. BY ROBERT M. HART. AIR--_Katy Darling._ Oh, they told us you were dead, poor Jeff. Davis, That your form was lying stiff and cold In the catacombs of Eastern Virginia, Where thy virtues were greatly extolled; But, oh, ’twas a cruel hoax, Jeff. Davis, You’re alive and kicking, we see, And there’s many now would hang you, poor Jeff. Davis, On the branch of the first sycamore tree. Your pockets they are empty, poor Jeff. Davis, And of gold you are very much in need, While starvation mounts the throne close beside you, And secession has just gone to seed; And, oh, what a sad mistake, Jeff. Davis, To think with cotton all alone You could frighten Uncle Sam, poor Jeff. Davis, And then rob him of half of his home.