by W. A. Kendall.
"YOU'VE donned the peerless uniform
    Of good old Uncle Sam "—
  Around my neck her arms she threw,
  And to her breast my own she drew—
    With tears her fond eyes swam.
"You're dearer to me than I thought —
    Since in this steadfast hue
  Your form was draped, its impress takes
  A depth such as a hero's makes—
    All hail, my own true blue!
"Prouder am I to see you thus —
    Though it preludes good-by —
  Than were you crowned perchance a king,
  Whose name in action ne'er did ring,
    Whose soul gives fame the lie.
"Your stature seems to gain in height
    from your high motive's aim;
  And to such eminence my heart
  Is lifted, I am strong to part —
    Oh! to reserve were shame!
"Go, save our country! she is first—
     Stand guard until you fall;
  Or till the danger overcome
  Shall respite the alarum-drum —
     I will delay recall.
"Go, where along the lurid front
     The Union vanguards tramp!
  Do your whole duty, danger spurn,
  When Freedom's laurelled, then return —
     These arms shall be your camp!
"As I would ask, so you have done —
    ‘God shield you!’ is my charm:
  Should you survive, redeem this kiss
  And should you perish, one will miss
     From life its sweetest balm.
"These tears attest the grief I feel—
     God's and my own true blue!
   For every one speed thou a shot;
   When quietus the foe has got,
     Valor for love may sue."
   So spoke my own brave girl, and fled,
     Fearing her heart's dread pain
   Would traitor prove unto her will,
   And rising with rebellious thrill,
     Persuade me to remain.
   To die for her were sweeter far
     Than loved by less to live;
   Such natures wear an aspect grand,
   As with an unreserving hand
     They answer Duty's "give!"
   O woman! how much patriot fire
     Thy breath has woke to flame!
   How many heroes were not such
   But for thy consecrating touch,
     None less than God can name!


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