The author of a song entitled Freedom's Guide had a force and vigor which, with a little more polish and form, would have entitled him to a place in polite literature, and the real singable quality, which was, perhaps, of more importance:-- FREEDOM'S GUIDE. Our country now is great and free, And this forever it shall be. We know the way--we know the way. Though Southern foes may gather here, We will protect what we hold dear. We know the way. Chorus. We know the way--we know the way. Through Baltimore, hooray. For our guide is Freedom's banner. Hooray, hooray. The way is through Baltimore. The South shall see that we are true, And that we know a thing or two. We know the way--we know the way. As Yankee boys we are at hand, Our countless throngs shall fill the land. We know the way. From east to west, from south to north, We 'll send our mighty legions forth. We know the way--we know the way. The freedom that our fathers won Shall be defended by each son. We know the way. Then shout, then shout o'er hill and plain, We will our country's rights maintain. We know the way--we know the way. We will always guard it with our might, And keep steadfast in the right. We know the way. Old Jeff has now begun to lag, He knows that we 'll stand by the flag. We know the way--we know the way. With Scott to guide us in the right, We 'll show them how the Sixty-Ninth can fight. We know the way. An organization almost equally popular with the New York ballad singers, in the early days of the war, was the "Fire Zouaves," recruited among the firemen of the metropolis, and which was expected to perform wonderful feats of daring and energy, from the character of its material. Its leader, Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth, was killed by the landlord of a hotel in Alexandria, Va., while hauling down the rebel flag from the roof, and his death created a deep sensation from its dramatic character, and from the fact that it was among the earliest in the war. The elegies upon his death were numerous, as well as those in praise of the regiment itself. One of the latter, by Archibald Scott, whose name, contrary to the usual custom, was prefixed to the ballad, had a good deal of rude vigor, of which the following is a specimen:-- Shall ugly plugs of Baltimore, Who come out with stones and staves, Get leave our patriots' blood to pour, And drive our soldiers from their shore? No, no! by Hell, in flames shall roar Their city first by York Zouaves!