“We appeal to you, as sisters, as wives, and as mothers, to raise your voices to your fellow-citizens, and your prayers to God for the removal of this affliction and disgrace from the Christian world.”

In behalf of many thousands of American women,

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

WASHINGTON, November 27, 1862.

THE SOLDIERS’ RALLY.

  Oh, rally round the banner, boys, now Freedom’s chosen sign! 
  See where amid the clouds of war its new-born glories shine! 
  The despot’s doom, the slave’s dear hope, we bear it on the foe! 
  God’s voice rings down the brightening path!  Say, brothers, will ye go?

  “My father fought at Donelson; he hailed at dawn of day
  That flag full-blown upon the walls, and proudly passed away.” 
  “My brother fell on Newbern’s shore; he bared his radiant head,
  And shouted, ‘Oh! the day is won!’ leaped forward, and was dead.” 
  “My chosen friend of all the world hears not the bugle-call;
  A bullet pierced his loyal heart by Richmond’s fatal wall.” 
  But seize the hallowed swords they dropped, with blood yet moist and red! 
  Fill up the thinned, immortal ranks, and follow where they led! 
  For right is might, and truth is God, and He upholds our cause,
  The grand old cause our fathers loved,—­Freedom and Equal Laws!

  “My mother’s hair is thin and white; she looked me in the face,
  She clasped me to her heart, and said, ‘Go, take thy brother’s place!’”
  “My sister kissed her sweet farewell; her maiden cheeks were wet;
  Around my neck her arms she threw; I feel the pressure yet.” 
  “My wife sits by the cradle’s side and keeps our little home,
  Or asks the baby on her knee, ‘When will thy father come?’”
  Oh, woman’s faith and man’s stout arm shall right the ancient wrong! 
  So farewell, mother, sister, wife!  God keep you brave and strong! 
  The whizzing shell may burst in fire, the shrieking bullet fly,
  The heavens and earth may mingle grief, the gallant soldier die;
  But while a haughty Rebel stands, no peace! for peace is war. 
  The land that is not worth our death is not worth living for!

  Then rally round the banner, boys!  Its triumph draweth nigh! 
  See where above the clouds of war its seamless glories fly! 
  Peace, hovering o’er the bristling van, waves palm and laurel fair,
  And Victory binds the rescued stars in Freedom’s golden hair!

* * * * *

OVERTURES FROM RICHMOND.

A NEW LILLIBURLERO.

“Well, Uncle Sam,” says Jefferson D.,
Lilliburlero, old Uncle Sam,
“You’ll have to join my Confed’racy,”
Lilliburlero, old Uncle Sam. 
“Lero, lero, that don’t appear O, that don’t appear,” says old Uncle Sam,
“Lero, lero, filibustero, that don’t appear,” says old Uncle Sam.