Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/43

TREASON'S LAST DEVICE

While the sister rivers seek the main,

Red with our life-blood flowing forth,—

Who shall gather it up again?

Though we march to the battle-plain

Firmly as when the strife began,

Shall all our offering be in vain?—

Abraham Lincoln, give us a !

One on whose might the Cause may lean?

Are all the common ones so grand,

And all the titled ones so mean?

What if your failure may have been

In trying to make good bread from bran,

From worthless metal a weapon keen?—

Abraham Lincoln, find us a !

Where the foeman's fiercest columns are!

O, we will use our latest breath,

Cheering for every sacred star!

His to marshal us high and far;

Ours to battle, as patriots can

When a Hero leads the Holy War!—

Abraham Lincoln, give us a !"

TREASON'S LAST DEVICE

of New England, in the fray,

Do you hear the clamor behind your back?

Do you hear the yelping of Blanche, and Tray,

Sweetheart, and all the mongrel pack?

Girded well with her ocean crags,

Little our mother heeds their noise; 13