And they fought right well, did these brave men, For their banner still floats unto the breeze, And the paeans of ages forever shall tell Their glorious tale beyond the seas. Ring out your voices in praises loud, Sing sweet your notes of music gay, Tell me in all you loyal crowd Throbs there a heart unmoved to-day? Meeting together again this year, As met we in fealty and love before; Men, maids, and matrons to reverently hear Praises of brave men who fought of yore. Tell to the little ones with wondering eyes, The tale of the flag that floats so free; Till their tiny voices shall merrily rise In hymns of rejoicing and praises to Thee. Many a pure and noble heart Lies under the sod, all covered with green; Many a soul that had felt the smart Of life's sad torture, or mayhap had seen The faint hope of love pass afar from the sight, Like swift flight of bird to a rarer clime Many a youth whose death caused the blight Of tender hearts in that long, sad time. Nay, but this is no hour for sorrow; They died at their duty, shall we repine? Let us gaze hopefully on to the morrow Praying that our lives thus shall shine. Ring out your bugles, sound out your cheers! Man has been God-like so may we be. Give cheering thanks, there dry up those tears, Widowed and orphaned, the country is free! Wreathes of lillies and immortelles, Scattered upon each silent mound, Voices in loving remembrance swell, Chanting to heaven the solemn sound, Glad skies above, and glad earth beneath, And grateful hearts who silently Gather earth's flowers, and tenderly wreath Woman's sweet token of fragility. AT EVENTIDE. All day had she watched and waited for his coming, and still her strained ears caught no sounds of the footsteps she loved and longed to hear. All day while the great sun panted on his way around the brazen skies; all day while the busy world throbbed its mighty engines of labor, nor witted of the breaking hearts in its midst. And now when the eve had come, and the sun sank slowly to rest, casting his red rays over the earth he loved, and bidding tired nature a gentle radiant good-night, she still watched and waited. Waited while the young moon shone silvery in the crimson flush of the eastern sky, while the one bright star trembled as he strove to near his love; waited while the hum of soul-wearing traffic died in the distant streets, and the merry voices of happy children floated to her ears. And still he came not. What kept him from her side? Had he learned the cold lesson of self-control, or found one other thing more potent than love? Had some cruel chain of circumstances forced him to disobey her bidding--or--did he love another? But no, she smiles triumphantly, he could not having known and loved her.