Where the silence frightens the birds away,
And all is still, dreary and weird,
Except, perchance at the close of day,
The bittern’s boom or the crane’s hoarse bray,
Floating over the swamp, is heard.
Where the dusky wolf and the antlered deer
Ever shun the dark, haunted ground;
Where the crouching panther ventures near,
His tawny coat all bristling with fear,
At the sight of the low, red mound.
Where at twilight gray, the lone whippoorwill
May perch on the stake at my head,
And with its unearthly, tremulous trill
The dreary gloom of the whole place fill
With a requiem over the dead.
Where the greater the ruin in earth’s damp mold,
The greater the contrast will prove,
When the weary wings of my spirit I fold,
In heaven, and swell with a bright harp of gold,
The grand pealing anthem of love.
LINES TO AN ANALYTICAL GEOMETRY
KNOWN TO THE STUDENTS AS “MISS ANNIE”
WRITTEN AT THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA, 1866
At “Elysium” chum and I were sitting,
Across our vision memories flitting,
Talking, smoking, often spitting
On the hearth, not on the floor;
When suddenly we heard a spluttering,
As of book leaves madly flutt’ring,
Some one there seemed slowly mutt’ring,
At the bookcase, not the door.
Wildly springing to my feet
(Chum with fright seemed tied t’ his seat),
Dreading, fearing I should meet
What so like a ghost had spoken—
Fellow members, if you’re able
To believe what seemed a fable,
I saw “Miss Annie” on the table,
With rage and anger almost choking.
Then without a bow or bend,
Sitting up upon one end,
Without preface thus began—
While we both in wonder stared:
“O ye worthless lazy scamps!
Talk about your midnight lamps,
While I’m in the bookcase crampt,
To what can such Sophs be compared?
“Here you’ll sit and smoke and talk,
To-morrow morn to black-board walk,
Seize your ‘ruler’ and your chalk,
Then I hope get badly ‘rushed.’
Oh! the present generation,
Such neglect to education,
Blood and scissors! thunderation!”
She was so mad the tears forth gushed.