VI.
God's blessing on thee, wife,
God's blessing on the young:
Pray for me through the strife,
And teach our infant's tongue.
Whatever haps in fight,
I shall be true to thee--
To the home of our delight--
To my people of the free.
The Cameo Bracelet.
By James R. Randall, of Maryland.
Eva sits on the ottoman there,
Sits by a Psyche carved in stone,
With just such a face, and just such an air,
As Esther upon her throne.
She's sifting lint for the brave who bleed,
And I watch her fingers float and flow
Over the linen, as, thread by thread,
It flakes to her lap like snow.
A bracelet clinks on her delicate wrist,
Wrought, as Cellini's were at Rome,
Out of the tears of the amethyst,
And the wan Vesuvian foam.
And full on the bauble-crest alway--
A cameo image keen and fine--
Glares thy impetuous knife, Corday,
And the lava-locks are thine!
I thought of the war-wolves on our trail,
Their gaunt fangs sluiced with gouts of blood;
Till the Past, in a dead, mesmeric veil,
Drooped with a wizard flood
Till the surly blaze through the iron bars
Shot to the hearth with a pang and cry--
And a lank howl plunged from the Champ de Mars
To the Column of July--
Till Corday sprang from the gem, I swear,
And the dove-eyed damsel I knew had flown--
For Eva was not on the ottoman there,
By the Psyche carved in stone.
She grew like a Pythoness flushed with fate,
With the incantation in her gaze,
A lip of scorn--an arm of hate--
And a dirge of the "Marseillaise!"
Eva, the vision was not wild,
When wreaked on the tyrants of the land--
For you were transfigured to Nemesis, child,
With the dagger in your hand!
Zollicoffer.
By H. L. Flash, of Alabama.
First in the fight, and first in the arms
Of the white-winged angels of glory,
With the heart of the South at the feet of God,
And his wounds to tell the story:
And the blood that flowed from his hero heart,
On the spot where he nobly perished,
Was drunk by the earth as a sacrament
In the holy cause he cherished.
In Heaven a home with the brave and blessed,
And, for his soul's sustaining,
The apocalyptic eyes of Christ--
And nothing on earth remaining,
But a handful of dust in the land of his choice,
A name in song and story,
And Fame to shout with her brazen voice,
"Died on the Field of Glory!"
Beauregard
By Catharine A. Warfield, of Mississippi.
Let the trumpet shout once more,
Beauregard!
Let the battle-thunders roar,
Beauregard!
And again by yonder sea,
Let the swords of all the free
Leap forth to fight with thee,
Beauregard!
Old Sumter loves thy name,
Beauregard!
Grim Moultrie guards thy fame,
Beauregard!
Oh! first in Freedom's fight!
Oh! steadfast in the right!
Oh! brave and Christian Knight!
Beauregard!
St. Michael with his host,
Beauregard!
Encamps by yonder coast,
Beauregard!
And the Demon's might shall quail,
And the Dragon's terrors fail,
Were he trebly clad in mail,
Beauregard!
Not a leaf shall fall away,
Beauregard!
From the laurel won to-day,
Beauregard!
While the ocean breezes blow,
While the billows lapse and flow
O'er the Northman's bones below,
Beauregard!
Let the trumpet shout once more,
Beauregard!
Let the battle-thunders roar,
Beauregard!
From the centre to the shore,
From the sea to the land's core
Thrills the echo, evermore,
Beauregard!
South Carolina.
1719. Colonial Revolution.
1763. Colonial History--Progress,
1776. American Revolution.
1812-15. Second War with Great Britain
1830-32. Nullification for State Rights.
1835-40. Florida War.
1847. Mexican War--Palmetto Regiment.
1860-61. Secession, and Third War for Independence.
My brave old Country! I have watched thee long
Still ever first to rise against the wrong;
To check the usurper in his giant stride,
And brave his terrors and abase his pride;
Foresee the insidious danger ere it rise,
And warn the heedless and inform the wise;
Scorning the lure, the bribe, the selfish game,
Which, through the office, still becomes the shame;
Thou stood'st aloof--superior to the fate
That would have wrecked thy freedom as a State.
In vain the despot's threat, his cunning lure;
Too proud thy spirit, and thy heart too pure;
Thou hadst no quest but freedom, and to be
In conscience well-assured, and people free.
The statesman's lore was thine, the patriot's aim,
These kept thee virtuous, and preserved thy fame;
The wisdom still for council, the brave voice,
That thrills a people till they all rejoice.
These were thy birthrights; and two centuries pass'd,
As, at the first, still find thee at the last;
Supreme in council, resolute in will,
Pure in thy purpose--independent still!
The great good counsels, the examples brave,
Won from the past, not buried in its grave,
Still warm your soul with courage--still impar
Wisdom to virtue, valor to the heart!
Still first to check th' encroachment--to declare
"Thus far! no further, shall the assailant dare;"
Thou keep'st thy ermine white, thy State secure,
Thy fortunes prosperous, and thy freedom sure;
No glozing art deceives thee to thy bane;
The tempter and the usurper strive in vain!
Thy spear's first touch unfolds the fiendish form,
And first, with fearless breast, thou meet'st the storm;
Though hosts assail thee, thou thyself a host,
Prepar'st to meet the invader on the coast:
Thy generous sons contending which shall be
First in the phalanx, gathering by the sea;
No dastard fear appals them, as they teach
How best to hurl the bolt, or man the breach!
Great Soul in little frame!--the hope of man
Exults, when such as thou art in the van!
Unshaken, unbeguiled, unslaved, unbought,
Thy fame shall brighten with each battle fought;
True to the examples of the past, thou'lt be,
For the long future, best security.
Charleston Mercury.
Gossypium.