On the Men of Maine

Afar they fell. It was the zone

Of fig and orange, cane and lime

( A land how all unlike their own,

With the cold pine-grove overgrown ),

But still their Country's clime.

And there in youth they died for her —

The Volunteers,

For her went up their dying prayers:

So vast the Nation, yet so strong the tie.

What doubt shall come, then, to deter

The Republic's earnest faith and courage high.