At last the thread was snapped; her head was bowed;
Life dropt the distaff through his hands serene;
And loving neighbors smoothed her careful shroud,
While Death and Winter closed the autumn scene.
THOMAS BUCHANAN READ.
* * * * *
THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS.
[The Spanish-American War, 1898.]
A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the Captain bold,
And never forget the Commodore's debt when the deeds of might are
told!
They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck when the great
shells roar and screech--
And never they fear when the foe is near to practise what they
preach:
But off with your hat and three times three for Columbia's true-blue
sons,
The men below who batter the foe--the men behind the guns!
Oh, light and merry of heart are they when they swing into port once
more,
When, with more than enough of the "green-backed stuff," they start
for their leave-o'-shore;
And you'd think, perhaps, that the blue-bloused chaps who loll along
the street
Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce "mustache" to
eat--
Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly stuns
The modest worth of the sailor boys--the lads who serve the guns.
But say not a word till the shot is heard that tells the fight is
on.
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