y 'tended they should hold me.
Yankee Doodle, etc.

It scar'd me so I hooked it off,
Nor stopped, as I remember,
Nor turned about till I got home,
Clear up in mother's chamber.
Yankee Doodle, etc.

THE AMERICAN FLAG.

Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) wrote "The American Flag" as a mere
fugitive contribution to the _Evening Post_ when he was little more than
twenty-one. It belonged to a series of hastily written verses to which the
author attached no value. Long afterward a friend of his--a Dr.
DeKay--carefully gathered together these stray poems, and showed them to
Drake, who said:

"Oh, burn them up! They are worthless."

Fortunately, his friend refused to burn them; and thus one of the finest
gems of our national poetry was rescued. Tradition tells us that the last
eight lines of "The American Flag" were added to the original draft by
Drake's friend and fellow poet, Fitz-Greene Halleck.

BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.

When Freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night
And set the stars of glory there!
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies
And striped its pure celestial white
With streakings of the morning light;
Then, from his mansion in the sun,
She called her eagle bearer down
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land!

Majestic monarch of the cloud,
Who rear'st aloft thy regal form,
To hear the tempest trumpings loud
And see the lightning lances driven,
When strive the warrior of the storm
And rolls the thunder drum of heaven--
Child of the sun, to thee 'tis given
To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle stroke
And bid its blending shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of victory!

Flag of the brave, thy folds shall fly
The sign of hope and triumph high!
When speaks the signal trumpet tone
And the long line comes gleaming on,
Ere yet the lifeblood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier eye shall brightly turn
To where the sky-born glories burn
And as his springing steps advance
Catch war and vengeance from the glance,
And when the cannon mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud.