Major Lindley Hoffman Miller.
Major Miller, a brother of our well-known townsman, Henry W. Miller, was among the first of the 7th Regiment of New York City, who answered the call of the government to march to Washington for the protection of the Capitol. He served in that regiment through the riots in New York, and afterwards joined a Colored Regiment and was promoted to the rank of Major. He served in this position at Memphis and elsewhere through the South. In this campaign he lost his health and came home to die. He died in June, 1864, and was laid in old St. Peter's churchyard.
Mr. Miller was a man of brilliant mind and unusual genius. His fugitive poems are very beautiful. They were published in various journals of the time, and one we will add to this short sketch of his brief but valuable life, "The Skater's Song", full of spirit and dash, and gay with the heart of youth.
THE SKATER'S SONG, BY MOONLIGHT!
Come away, from your blazing hearths!
Come away, in the gleaming night,
Where the radiant sky is peering down
With a million eyes of light!
Heigho! for the glancing ice,
For the realm of the old Frost King!
We'll shake the chain of the bounding stream
Till all its fetters ring!
Then away! my boys, away!
Far over the ice we'll sweep,
And wake the slumbering echo's voice
From the gloom of its winter sleep!
Come away, from your cheerless books!
Come away, in the clear, cold air!
And read in the deeps of the starry night
God's endless volume there.
Ho! now we're flashing along,
At the snow-flake's drifting rate!
Did ever anything stir the pulse
Like a glimmering moonlight skate?
Then away! my boys, away!
Far over the ice we'll sweep,
And wake the slumbering echo's voice
From the gloom of its winter sleep!
Come away, from the ball-room's glare!
Come away, to a merrier dance,—
To a hall, whose floor is the flashing ice,
Whose light is the stars' pure glance!
Now we're watching the moon in her dreams,
Now we dash at our speed again;
While the stream groans under the icy links
Which the frost has forged for his chain!
Then away! my boys, away!
Far over the ice we'll sweep,
And wake the slumbering echo's voice
From the gloom of its winter sleep!
Come away, each lady fair!
Come, add to the magical sight!
And mingle the silvery tones of your words
With the echoing "voices of night"!
Heigho! for the frozen plain!
Here's a glancing mirror, I ween,
Reflecting all the beautiful forms
That move in our fairy-like scene.
Away! my lady, away!
Far over the ice we'll sweep,
And wake the slumbering echo's voice
From the gloom of its winter sleep!
Come away, from your sorrow and grief,
All you that are gloomy and sad!
Unwrinkle your brows to the whistling wind,
Till your hearts grow merry and glad!
Ho! Hark! how the laughter in peals,
Is shaking the tides of the air,
And shouting aloud to drown with its joy
The muttering murmurs of care!
Then away! my boys, away!
Far over the ice we'll sweep,
And wake the slumbering echo's voice
From the gloom of its winter sleep!
Come, one and all, then, away!
Come, cheerily join in our song,
And mingle with music the ring of the steel,
Keep in time, as we're sweeping along!
Heigho! for the throne of the Frost!
We'll frighten the phantoms of night,
And serenade, far under the depths,
The river's listening sprite!
Then away! my boys, away!
Far over the ice we'll sweep,
And wake the slumbering echo's voice
From the gloom of its winter sleep!