Monckton falls; against his columns leap the troops of Wayne and

Lee,

And before their reeking bayonets Clinton's red battalions flee; Morgan's rifles, fiercely flashing, thin the foe's retreating ranks, And behind them, onward dashing, Ogden hovers on their flanks.

Fast they fly, those boasting Britons, who in all their glory came, With their brutal Hessian hirelings to wipe out our country's name. Proudly floats the starry banner; Monmouth's glorious field is won; And, in triumph, Irish Molly stands beside her smoking gun.

SOLILOQUY OF ARNOLD.

EDWARD C. JONES.

HE plan is fixed; I fluctuate no more

THE

Betwixt despair and hope. As leaves the shore

The hardy mariner, though adverse fate

May merge his bark, or cast him desolate
Upon a savage coast, so, wrought at last
Up to a frenzied purpose, I have passed
The Rubicon. Farewell my old renown!
Here I breathe mildew on my warrior crown;
Here honor parts from me, and base deceit
Steps to the usurper's throne; I cannot meet
The withering censure of the rebel band,

And, therefore, to the strong I yield this heart and hand.

What else befits me? I have misapplied

The nation's funds and ever gratified

Each vaulting wish, though justice wept the deed;
And here, beneath the load of pressing need,

I must have gold. How else the clamorous cry
Of creditors appease, and satisfy

Demands which haunt me more than dreams of blood
And claims which chill more than Canadian flood?
Stay? My accounts betray the swindler's mark.
Go? And my path, though smooth, like Tartarus is dark.

These rocky ridges, how they shelve on high,
Each a stern sentinel in majesty.

Yes, 'tis your own Gibraltar, Washington!
And must the stronghold of his hope be won?
Won? Twenty thousand scarcely could invest
That sure defence, which o'er the river's breast
Casts a gigantic shadow; but my plan
Dispenses with the formidable van,
And Clinton may my garrison surprise,

With few sulphurous clouds to blot these azure skies.

-I see

And yet a pang comes over me—
Myself at Saratoga; full and free
Goes up the peal of noble-hearted men;
Among the wounded am I numbered then,
And my outgushing feelings cling to those
Who periled all to face their country's foes.
Ah! when that wound a soldier's pride increased,
And gratulation scarce its pæan ceased,

I thought not then, oh, God! the stamp of shame
Would stand imprinted thus upon my hard-earned fame.

Avaunt, compunction! Conscience, to the wind!

Gold, gold I need-gold must Sir Henry find!
A rankling grudge is mine, for why not I
Commander of their forces? To the sky
Ever goes up the peal for Washington.
Is he a god, Virginia's favored son?
Why should the incense fume forevermore?
Must he my skill, my prowess, shadow o'er?

Ere this autumnal moon has filled its horn,

His honors must be nipped, his rising glories shorn.

Ah! he securely rests upon my faith-
Securely, when the spectre dims his path!
How unsuspecting has he ever been;
Above the false, the sinister, the mean!
But hold such eulogy-I will not praise;
Mine is the task to tarnish all his bays.
West Point, thy rocky ridges seem to say,
Be firm as granite, crown the work to-day,
Blot Saratoga, hearth and home adjure,
André I meet again-the gold I must secure.

THE BATTLE OF THE COWPENS.

THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.

[In the autumn of 1780, Gen. Nathaniel Greene was appointed to the chief command of the American Southern army. The first action was fought at the Cowpens, where the English were defeated, losing over 800 men, while the Americans lost only 72.]

O the Cowpens riding proudly, boasting loudly, rebels scorning,
Tarleton hurried, hot and eager for the fight;

From the Cowpens, sore confounded, on that January morning,
Tarleton hurried somewhat faster, fain to save himself by flight.

In the morn he scorned us rarely, but he fairly found his error,
When his force was made our ready blows to feel;

When his horsemen and his footmen fled in wild and pallid terror
At the leaping of our bullets, and the sweeping of our steel.
All the day before we fled them, and we led them to pursue us,
Then at night on Thicketty Mountain made our camp;

There we lay upon our rifles, slumber quickly coming to us,

Spite the crackling of our camp-fires, and our sentries' heavy tramp.

Morning on the mountain border ranged in order found our forces, Ere our scouts announced the coming of the foe;

While the hoar-frost lying near us, and the distant water courses, Gleamed like silver in the sunlight, seemed like silver in the glow.

Morgan ranged us there to meet them, and to greet them with such favor

That they scarce would care to follow us again;

In the rear, the Continentals-none were readier nor braver;
In the van with ready rifles, steady, stern, our mountain men.

Washington, our trooper peerless, gay and fearless, with his forces Waiting panther-like upon the foe to fall,

Formed upon the slope behind us, where, on raw-boned country horses,

Sat the sudden-summoned levies brought from Georgia by McCall.

Soon we heard a distant drumming, near coming, slow advancingwas then upon the very nick of nine

It

Soon upon the road from Spartanburg we saw their bayonets

glancing,

And the moving sunlight playing on their swaying scarlet line.

In the distance seen so dimly, they looked grimly—coming nearer There was naught about them fearful after all,

Until some one near me spoke in voice than falling water clearer, "Tarleton's quarter is the sword-blade-Tarleton's mercy is the ball."

Then the memory came unto me, heavy, gloomy, of my brother Who was slain while asking quarter at their hand;

Of that morning when was driven forth my sister and my mother From our cabin in the valley by the spoilers of the land.

I remembered of my brother slain, my mother spurned and beaten, Of my sister in her beauty brought to shame;

Of the wretches' jeers and laughter, as from mud-sill up to rafter, Of the stripped and plundered cabin, leaped the fierce, consuming flame.

But that memory had no power there in that hour to depress me— No! it stirred within my spirit fiercer ire;

And I gripped my sword-hilt firmer, and my arm and heart grew stronger,

And I longed to meet the wronger on the sea of steel and fire.

On they came, our might disdaining, when the raining bullets leaden

Pattered fast from scattered rifles on each wing;

Here and there went down a foeman, and the ground began to redden;

And they drew them back a moment, like the tiger ere his spring.

Then said Morgan, "Ball and powder kill much prouder men than Georgia's

They were trained in many battles, we in work-shops, fields and

forges;

But we have our homes to fight for, and we do not fear to die."

Though our leader's words we cheered not, yet we feared not; we awaited,

Strong of heart, the threatened onset, and it came;

Up the sloping hillside swiftly rushed the foe so fiercely hated; On they came with gleaming bayonet, 'mid the cannon's smoke and flame.

At their head rode Tarleton proudly-ringing loudly o'er the yelling Of his men who heard his voice's brazen tone