He fell—but it surely was blessed to fall;
For never shall murmur be heard from the mouth
Of mother or wife, through our beautiful South,
Or sister or maiden yield grudging her part,
Tho’ the price that she pays, must be coined from her heart.
1863 proved another “Year of terror, year of strife.” In the far South, Butler, in possession of New Orleans, had begun his reign of terror that was the savage inspiration of several poems. From Hayne, in particular, it wrung one of the most powerful lyrics of the war.[14] Up the river, the siege of Vicksburg still continued. How spring came to the land was most poignantly expressed by Henry Timrod, in “Spring.”
Spring, with that nameless pathos in the air
Which dwells in all things fair,
Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain
Is with us once again.