I should have been glad to stay and see my comrades through to their departure; but there was a Massachusetts man down at Fortress Monroe, Butler by name,--has any one heard of him?--and to this gentleman it chanced that I was to report myself. So I packed my knapsack, got my furlough, shook hands with my fellows, said good-bye to Camp Cameron, and was off, two days after our month's service was done. FAREWELL TO THE SEVENTH. Under Providence, Washington owes its safety, 1st, To General Butler, whose genius devised the circumvention of Baltimore and its rascal rout, and whose utter bravery executed the plan;--he is the Grand Yankee of this little period of the war. 2d, To the other Most Worshipful Grand Yankees of the Massachusetts regiment who followed their leader, as he knew they would, discovered a forgotten colony called Annapolis, and dashed in there, asking no questions. 3d, And while I gladly yield the first places to this General and his men, I put the Seventh in, as last, but not least, in saving the capital. Character always tells. The Seventh, by good, hard, faithful work at drill, had established its fame as the most thorough militia regiment in existence. Its military and moral character were excellent. The mere name of the regiment carried weight. It took the field as if the field were a ball-room. There were myriads eager to march; but they had not made ready beforehand. Yes, the Seventh had its important share in the rescue. Without our support, whether our leaders tendered it eagerly or hesitatingly, General Butler's position at Annapolis would have been critical, and his forced march to the capital a forlorn hope,--heroic, but desperate. So, honor to whom honor is due. Here I must cut short my story. So good-bye to the Seventh, and thanks for the fascinating month I have passed in their society. In this pause of the war our camp-life has been to me as brilliant as a permanent picnic. Good-bye to Company I, and all the fine fellows, rough and smooth, cool old hands and recruits verdant but ardent! Good-bye to our Lieutenants, to whom I owe much kindness! Good-bye, the Orderly, so peremptory on parade, so indulgent off! Good-bye, everybody! And so in haste I close. BETWEEN SPRING AND SUMMER. (A BIRTHDAY POEM, WITH ROSES.) To her whose birth and being Touch summer out of spring, These roses, reaching forward From May to June, I bring. To her whose fragrant friendship Sweetens the life I live, These flowers, Love's message hinting With perfumed breath, I give. The violet and the lily Shall stand for these and those; But give her roses only Whose soul suggests the rose,-- Whose Life's idea ranges Through all of sweet and bright, A vernal flow of feeling, A summer day of light. I bless the child whose coming Sheds grace around us, where Her voice falls soft as music, Her step drops light as air: