ve shared the toils and perils
Of more than one campaign;
And when my tired feet faltered,
Beneath the noontide heat,
Your words sustained my courage,
Gave new strength to my feet.

"And once,--'twas at Antietam,--
Pressed hard by thronging foes,
I almost sank exhausted
Beneath their cruel blows,--
When you, dear friend, undaunted,
With headlong courage threw
Your heart into the contest,
And safely brought me through.

"My words are weak, dear Charlie,
My breath is growing scant;
Your hand upon my heart there,
Can you not hear me pant?
Your thoughts I know will wander
Sometimes to where I lie--
How dark it grows! True comrade
And faithful friend, good-by!"

A moment, and he lay there
A statue, pale and calm.
His youthful head reclining
Upon his comrade's arm.
His limbs upon the greensward
Were stretched in careless grace,
And by the fitful moon was seen
A smile upon his face.

SONG OF THE CROAKER. (*)

* Written by request for the Philadelphia Sanitary Fair.

An old frog lived in a dismal swamp,
In a dismal kind of way;
And all that he did, whatever befell,
Was to croak the livelong day.
Croak, croak, croak,
When darkness filled the air,
And croak, croak, croak,
When the skies were bright and fair.

"Good Master Frog, a battle is fought,
And the foeman's power is broke."
But he only turned a greener hue,
And answered with a croak.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the clouds are dark and dun,
And croak, croak, croak,
In the blaze of the noontide sun.

"Good Master Frog, the forces of right
Are driving the hosts of wrong."
But he gave his head an ominous shake,
And croaked out, "Nous verrons!"
Croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.

To poison the cup of life,
By always dreading the worst.
Is to make of the earth a dungeon damp,
And the happiest life accursed.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the noontide sun rides high,
And croak, croak, croak,
Lest the night come by and by.

Farewell to the dismal frog;
Let him croak as loud as he may,
H