ilant word
Wives and mothers went down on their knees to the Lord!

Methinks I can see, through the vista of years--
From the memories of old such a vision appears--
A gray-haired old veteran in arm-chair at ease,
With his grandchildren clustered intent at his knees,
Recounting his deeds with an eloquent tongue,
And a fire that enkindles the hearts of the young;
How he followed the Flag from the first to the last--
On the long, weary march, in the battle's hot blast;
How he marched under Sherman from center to sea,
Or fought under Grant in his battles with Lee;
And the old fire comes back to his eye as of yore,
And his iron hand clutches his musket once more,
As of old on the battle-field ghastly and red,
When he sprang to the charge o'er the dying and dead;
And the eyes of his listeners are gleaming with fire,
As he points to that Flag floating high on the spire.

[Illustration: AND THE EYES OF HIS LISTENERS ARE GLEAMING WITH FIRE
AS HE POINTS TO THAT FLAG FLOATING HIGH ON THE SPIRE.]

Heaven bless the new year that is just ushered in;
May the Rebels repent of their folly and sin,
Depart from their idols, extend the right hand,
And pledge that the Union forever shall stand.
May they see that the rending of fetter and chain
Is _their_ triumph as well--their unspeakable gain;
That the Union dissevered and weltering in blood
Could yield them no profit and bode them no good.
'Tis human to err and divine to forgive;
Let us walk after Christ--bid the poor sinners live,
And come back to the fold of the Union once more,
And we'll do as the prodigal's father of yore--
Kill the well-fatted calf--(but we'll not do it twice)
And invite them to dinner--and give them a slice.

There's old Johnny Bull--what a terrible groan
Escapes when he thinks of his big "Rebel Loan"--
How the money went out with a nod and a grin,
But the cotton--the cotton--it didn't come in.
Then he thinks of diplomacy--Mason-Slidell,
And he wishes that both had been warming in hell,
For he got such a rap from our little Bill Seward
That the red nose he blows is right hard to be cured;
And then the steam pirates he built and equipped,
And boasted, you know, that they couldn't be whipped;
But alas for his boast--Johnny Bull "caught a Tartar,"
And now like a calf he is bawling for quarter.
Yes, bluff Johnny Bull will be tame as a yearling,
Beg pardon and humbly "come down" with his sterling.

There's Monsieur _l'Escamoteur_[CU] over in France;
He