Majestic monarch of the cloud, Who rears't aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, And see the lightning-lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven-- Child of the sun! to thee is given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory! Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, The sign of hope and triumph high, When speaks the signal trumpet tone, And the long line comes gleaming on. Ere yet the life-blood warm and wet Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, Each soldier's eyes shall brightly turn To where thy sky-born glories burn; And, as his springing steps advance, Catch war and vengeance from the glance. And when the cannon's mouthings loud Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud, And gory sabers rise and fall Like darts of flame on midnight's pall, Then shall thy meteor glances glow, And cowering foes shall sink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. Flag of the seas! On ocean wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave; When death, careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frightened waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack Each dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye. Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given; Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With freedom's soil beneath our feet, And freedom's banner streaming o'er us? JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. We will swing the rope for Baby dear, So jump, jump, jump! That you will trip her up I fear, But jump, jump, jump! Swing it easy and low, Steady and slow, Or down the dear tot will go. A crafty Fox crept forth one day And over the hills he scampered away In search of a fine, fat hen; But old dog Sport was keeping guard, When Fox leaped into our chicken yard, And chased him back to his den. AUNT POLLY SHEDD'S BRIGADE. "Something about the Battle of Hampden?" Grandma took off her spectacles and wiped them reflectively "It seems to me already I have told you everything worth telling; but there!" in a sudden burst of recollection, "did I ever tell you about Aunt Polly Shedd's Brigade? That was quite an affair to those of us that belonged to it!" "Oh, no! do tell us about it!" called out the three childish voices in chorus; and Grandma only waited to knit by the seam needle.