The Union Sacrifice.BY MRS. METTA. V. VICTOR.“Who will save the land we cherish?People! what have you to give,That, our country may not perish—That our liberties may live?”Hark! the answer quickly thrilling:—“Half a million volunteersRally round our standard, fillingFreedom’s air with freemen’s cheers!“See our men go forth to battle,Take the soldier’s hardy fare,Face the fearful cannon’s rattle,Danger, death and drudgery bear.“What give you, heroic women,Loving mothers, tender wives?”Comes the answer superhuman:“We give up our dear ones’ lives!“We remain at home to suffer—Not to rest in idle ease.Men’s stern duties may be rougher,But they can not equal these;—“Nights of wretched, restless tossing,Guessing at the toils unshared—Fields and streams at midnight crossing,Keeping lonely picket guard;“Days of terror and of weeping—Of suspense that holds the breath,While the rosy infant, sleeping,Dreams not of its father’s death.“News that comes too sure and oftenTo the mothers at their work,—With no circumstance to softenAll the woes that in it lurk—“How the sons, at home surroundedBy their fond and patient care,On the battle-field lie wounded,Dying, dead,—no mother there!”Rich men give up golden treasures—Money, ships and merchandise;Brave men give up care and pleasuresFor the liberties they prize!But no holier gifts are profferedBy the hero’s heart and hand,Than the sacrifices offeredBy thewomenof the Land!
BY MRS. METTA. V. VICTOR.
“Who will save the land we cherish?People! what have you to give,That, our country may not perish—That our liberties may live?”Hark! the answer quickly thrilling:—“Half a million volunteersRally round our standard, fillingFreedom’s air with freemen’s cheers!“See our men go forth to battle,Take the soldier’s hardy fare,Face the fearful cannon’s rattle,Danger, death and drudgery bear.“What give you, heroic women,Loving mothers, tender wives?”Comes the answer superhuman:“We give up our dear ones’ lives!“We remain at home to suffer—Not to rest in idle ease.Men’s stern duties may be rougher,But they can not equal these;—“Nights of wretched, restless tossing,Guessing at the toils unshared—Fields and streams at midnight crossing,Keeping lonely picket guard;“Days of terror and of weeping—Of suspense that holds the breath,While the rosy infant, sleeping,Dreams not of its father’s death.“News that comes too sure and oftenTo the mothers at their work,—With no circumstance to softenAll the woes that in it lurk—“How the sons, at home surroundedBy their fond and patient care,On the battle-field lie wounded,Dying, dead,—no mother there!”Rich men give up golden treasures—Money, ships and merchandise;Brave men give up care and pleasuresFor the liberties they prize!But no holier gifts are profferedBy the hero’s heart and hand,Than the sacrifices offeredBy thewomenof the Land!
“Who will save the land we cherish?People! what have you to give,That, our country may not perish—That our liberties may live?”Hark! the answer quickly thrilling:—“Half a million volunteersRally round our standard, fillingFreedom’s air with freemen’s cheers!“See our men go forth to battle,Take the soldier’s hardy fare,Face the fearful cannon’s rattle,Danger, death and drudgery bear.“What give you, heroic women,Loving mothers, tender wives?”Comes the answer superhuman:“We give up our dear ones’ lives!“We remain at home to suffer—Not to rest in idle ease.Men’s stern duties may be rougher,But they can not equal these;—“Nights of wretched, restless tossing,Guessing at the toils unshared—Fields and streams at midnight crossing,Keeping lonely picket guard;“Days of terror and of weeping—Of suspense that holds the breath,While the rosy infant, sleeping,Dreams not of its father’s death.“News that comes too sure and oftenTo the mothers at their work,—With no circumstance to softenAll the woes that in it lurk—“How the sons, at home surroundedBy their fond and patient care,On the battle-field lie wounded,Dying, dead,—no mother there!”Rich men give up golden treasures—Money, ships and merchandise;Brave men give up care and pleasuresFor the liberties they prize!But no holier gifts are profferedBy the hero’s heart and hand,Than the sacrifices offeredBy thewomenof the Land!
“Who will save the land we cherish?People! what have you to give,That, our country may not perish—That our liberties may live?”
“Who will save the land we cherish?
People! what have you to give,
That, our country may not perish—
That our liberties may live?”
Hark! the answer quickly thrilling:—“Half a million volunteersRally round our standard, fillingFreedom’s air with freemen’s cheers!
Hark! the answer quickly thrilling:—
“Half a million volunteers
Rally round our standard, filling
Freedom’s air with freemen’s cheers!
“See our men go forth to battle,Take the soldier’s hardy fare,Face the fearful cannon’s rattle,Danger, death and drudgery bear.
“See our men go forth to battle,
Take the soldier’s hardy fare,
Face the fearful cannon’s rattle,
Danger, death and drudgery bear.
“What give you, heroic women,Loving mothers, tender wives?”Comes the answer superhuman:“We give up our dear ones’ lives!
“What give you, heroic women,
Loving mothers, tender wives?”
Comes the answer superhuman:
“We give up our dear ones’ lives!
“We remain at home to suffer—Not to rest in idle ease.Men’s stern duties may be rougher,But they can not equal these;—
“We remain at home to suffer—
Not to rest in idle ease.
Men’s stern duties may be rougher,
But they can not equal these;—
“Nights of wretched, restless tossing,Guessing at the toils unshared—Fields and streams at midnight crossing,Keeping lonely picket guard;
“Nights of wretched, restless tossing,
Guessing at the toils unshared—
Fields and streams at midnight crossing,
Keeping lonely picket guard;
“Days of terror and of weeping—Of suspense that holds the breath,While the rosy infant, sleeping,Dreams not of its father’s death.
“Days of terror and of weeping—
Of suspense that holds the breath,
While the rosy infant, sleeping,
Dreams not of its father’s death.
“News that comes too sure and oftenTo the mothers at their work,—With no circumstance to softenAll the woes that in it lurk—
“News that comes too sure and often
To the mothers at their work,—
With no circumstance to soften
All the woes that in it lurk—
“How the sons, at home surroundedBy their fond and patient care,On the battle-field lie wounded,Dying, dead,—no mother there!”
“How the sons, at home surrounded
By their fond and patient care,
On the battle-field lie wounded,
Dying, dead,—no mother there!”
Rich men give up golden treasures—Money, ships and merchandise;Brave men give up care and pleasuresFor the liberties they prize!
Rich men give up golden treasures—
Money, ships and merchandise;
Brave men give up care and pleasures
For the liberties they prize!
But no holier gifts are profferedBy the hero’s heart and hand,Than the sacrifices offeredBy thewomenof the Land!
But no holier gifts are proffered
By the hero’s heart and hand,
Than the sacrifices offered
By thewomenof the Land!