“Celestial cross, that with such steady gaze,
Dost beam upon the tossing Southern main,”—
To the Victor Belong the Spoils: Suggested by the edifying spectacle of an officer exhibiting publicly on the cars, to his delighted wife, a carpet-sack filled with silver plate robbed from Southern homes, and marked with the owner’s names. By Walker Meriweather Bell. (W. L.)
“Oh, twine me a garland of laurel, my love!
To rest and recruit from my wounds.”—
The Tree, The Serpent and The Star: By A. P. Gray, of South Carolina. (W. G. S.)
“From the silver sands of a gleaming shore,
Where the wild sea-waves were breaking”—
The Trees of the South: By Rev. A. J. Ryan. (Amaranth):
“Old trees, old trees, in your mystic gloom,