It was a Sergeant old and gray,
  Well singed and bronzed from siege and pillage,
Went tramping in an army’s wake
  Along the turnpike of the village.

For days and nights the winding host
  Had through the little place been marching,
And ever...

National Anthem
By H. W. L——, of Cambridge
BACK in the years when Phlagstaff, the Dane, was monarch
  Over the sea-ribbed land of the fleet-footed Norsemen,
Once there went forth young Ursa to gaze at the heavens,—
  Ursa, the noblest of all Vikings and...