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GOING AND COMING.
   Forward!
"On to the front!" the order ran,
"On to the front the foe to meet;"
They shouldered their muskets, boy and man,
And marched away through the city street.
Banners flying and drum-beat proud,
Marshaled them on through the noisy way,
But many a heart in the waiting crowd
Was faint and sick with its fear that day.

   Forward!
"On to the front;" 't was a fearful call,
With Death before to beckon them on;
Who would be first on the field to fall?
Who would be left when the rest were gone?
Was this the last time, full and free,
To hear the pulse of the city roll,
Before they gasped in their agony
With the last deep throb of the parting soul?