The sentinel sounds the dread note that alarms, Each man springs up from his sleep to arms! There's an onward dash And a sudden flash; There's a sigh and a groan, And the quick feet have flown-- A picket is dying alone. For men must fight for the sleeping Right, And who can stop to reckon? The newspaper tells what the President thought, What Stanton did or Seward taught, In columns long, With capitals strong; And the paper is filled As the editor willed: 'SLIGHT SKIRMISH!--one man killed.' But men must fight for the sleeping Right, And who can stop to reckon? A wife sits sad in her fireside chair, And thinks of the husband so brave to dare, And dreams once more That the war is o'er; While the South-birds trill Near the picket-camp still, And the picket lies dead on the hill. For men must fight for the sleeping Right, And God stands by to reckon. But the account is kept in eternity--there are none lost, no, not one--and the time will come when all shall be found and known who were brave in this world's battles. * * * * * We gladly find a corner for the following, by one known to us of old, as no indifferent poet: EMANCIPATION. All oupôs ama pánta Theoi dosan anthrôpoisin.--Iliad. Lift up your faces to the golden dawn That ushers in your year of Jubilee, Ye who to unrequited toil have gone In this great land, in this proud century. The clock of time has beat its seconds slow, But lo the hour of your release has come; Ay, strikes, and thrills the world with every blow That rings Oppression out, and Freedom home. Not, not in vain, 'How long, O Lord: how long?' Have ye inquired of Him who knew your needs; For those who prospered by your ancient wrong, Invoked the vengeance that upon their heads Is raining ruin. Lo! the Lord is just: Through the Red Sea of War ye, ye alone Come up unharmed; while all the oppressor's host In their mid-passage shall be overthrown. * * * * * For the benefit of those desiring to obtain the celebrated K.G.C. pamphlet, we may state that it is published by the National Union Club, communications for which may be addressed to Post-office Box No. 1079, Louisville, Ky. * * * * * Owing to our enlarged edition obliging us to send this number of the Magazine to press at an earlier date than usual, we are unable to give this month the commencement of Mr. Kimball's new novel, and the continuation of 'Among the Pines.' Both articles will appear in the next issue. * * * * * PROSPECTUS OF THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY.