“My brow is bent beneath a heavy rod!
My face is wan and white with many woes,”—
President Davis: By Jane T. H. Cross. (W. G. S., published in the New York News, 1865.)
“The cell is lonely and the night
Has filled it with a darker light,”—
The President’s Chair: Air, “Star Spangled Banner.” (West. Res.)
“Ye Southrons arouse, and do battle, nor yield
To the black northern hordes now infesting your borders,”—
The Price of Peace: By Luola. [Mrs. Loula W. Rogers, of Ga.] (E. V. M.)
“A woman paced with hurried step, her lone and dreary cell—