Ah, no! his flame rose not to fall anon;
His words as phrase to glitter and be gone;
Not evanescent in the minds of men,
His ling’ring oratory speaks again—
An era’s nuncio in a Nation’s view,
An envoy of another South, and new:
For now in prescience ’neath his Southern skies
The grander vision greets our Northern eyes;
The proud mirage he conjured up we see—
His picturing of her potency to be,