Page:Halleck.djvu/114

That many a gallant heart must bleed
Ere freedom’s star be low.

Guards of a nation’s destiny!
High is that nation’s claim,
For not unknown your spirit proud,
Nor your daring chieftain’s name.
’Tis yours to shield the dearest ties
That bind to life the heart,
That mingle with the earliest breath,
And with our last depart.

The angel-smile of beauty
What heart but bounds to feel?
Her fingers buckled on the belt,
That sheathes your gleaming steel
And if the soldier’s honored death
In battle be your doom,
Her tears shall bid the flowers be green
That blossom round your tomb.

Tread on the path of duty,
Band of the patriot brave,
Prepared to rush, at honor’s call,
“To glory or the grave.”
Nor bid your flag again be furled
Till proud its eagles soar,
Till the battle-drum has ceased to beat,
And the war-torch burns no more.