By Wm. H. Holcombe, M.D., of Virginia.
'Twas not the private insult galled him most,
But public outrage of his country's flag,
To which his patriotic heart had pledged
Its faith as to a bride. The bold, proud chief,
Th' avenging host, and the swift-coming death
Appalled him not. Nor life with all its charms,
Nor home, nor wife, nor children could weigh down
The fierce, heroic instincts to destroy
The insolent invader. Ellsworth fell,
And Jackson perished 'mid the pack of wolves,
Befriended only by his own great heart
And God approving. More than Roman soul!
O type of our impetuous chivalry!
May this young nation ever boast her sons
A vast, and inconceivable multitude,
Standing like thee in her extremest van,
Self-poised and ready, in defence of rights
Or in revenge of wrongs, to dare and die!
The Martyr of Alexandria.
By James W. Simmons, of Texas.
Revealed, as in a lightning flash,
A hero stood!
The invading foe, the trumpet's crash,
Set up his blood.
High o'er the sacred pile that bends
Those forms above,
Thy star, O Freedom! brightly blends
Its rays with love.
The banner of a mighty race,
Serenely there,
Unfurls the genius of the place,
In haunted air.
A vow is registered in Heaven!
Patriot! 'tis thine!
To guard those matchless colors, given
By hands divine.
Jackson! thy spirit may not hear
Our wail ascend;
A nation gathers round thy bier,
And mourns its friend.
The example is thy monument,
And organ tones
Thy name resound, with glory blent,
Prouder than thrones!