Light clouds, like crimson banners, trailed bright across the east, As the great sun rose in splendor above a conflict ceased, Gilding the bloodless triumph for equal rights and laws, As with the smile of heaven upon a holy cause. Still, wave on wave of verdure, the emerald hills arise, Where once were heroes mustered from men of common guise, And still, on Freedom's roster, through all her glorious years, Shine the names of Ethan Allen and his bold volunteers! MARY A. P. STANSBURY. The Continental army at Cambridge, meanwhile, was busy day and night, drilling and getting into shape. It was at this time that "a gentleman of Connecticut," whose name, it is said, was Edward Bangs, described his visit to the camp in verses destined to become famous. They were printed originally as a broadside. THE YANKEE'S RETURN FROM CAMP [June, 1775] Father and I went down to camp, Along with Captain Gooding, And there we see the men and boys, As thick as hasty pudding. _Chorus_--Yankee Doodle, keep it up, Yankee Doodle, dandy, Mind the music and the step, And with the girls be handy. And there we see a thousand men, As rich as 'Squire David; And what they wasted every day I wish it could be savèd. The 'lasses they eat every day Would keep an house a winter; They have as much that, I'll be bound, They eat it when they're a mind to. And there we see a swamping gun, Large as a log of maple, Upon a deucèd little cart, A load for father's cattle. And every time they shoot it off, It takes a horn of powder, And makes a noise like father's gun, Only a nation louder. I went as nigh to one myself As Siah's underpinning; And father went as nigh again, I thought the deuce was in him. Cousin Simon grew so bold, I thought he would have cocked it; It scared me so, I shrinked it off, And hung by father's pocket. And Captain Davis had a gun, He kind of clapt his hand on 't, And stuck a crooked stabbing iron Upon the little end on 't. And there I see a pumpkin shell As big as mother's bason; And every time they touched it off, They scampered like the nation. I see a little barrel, too, The heads were made of leather, They knocked upon 't with little clubs And called the folks together. And there was Captain Washington, And gentlefolks about him, They say he's grown so tarnal proud He will not ride without 'em. He got him on his meeting clothes, Upon a strapping stallion, He set the world along in rows, In hundreds and in millions. The flaming ribbons in his hat, They looked so tearing fine ah, I wanted pockily to get, To give to my Jemimah. I see another snarl of men A digging graves, they told me, So tarnal long, so tarnal deep, They 'tended they should hold me.