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314 THE TRUMPET-CALL.
Oh ! I long to see you, mother,
And the loving ones at home; But I '11 never leave our banner
Till in honor I can come. Tell the traitors all around you,
That their cruel words we know, In every battle kill our soldiers,
By the help they give the foe.
Farewell, mother, you may never, &c.
Hark ! I hear the bugles sounding,
*T is the signal for the fight; Now may God protect us, mother,
As he ever does the Right; Hear the " Battle-Cry of Freedom,"
How it swells upon the air — Oh, yes, we *11 rally round the standard,
Or we '11 perish nobly there !
Farewell, mother, you may never, &c.
—♦—
THE TRUMPET-CALL.
OVER the land the loud trumpet is calling, Arm for the fight! |
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