XX.
Beside the Santee's murmuring wave,
They made the early dead a grave;
And sometimes on its borders green
The passing traveler has seen
A spot where pale wild roses blow
The lofty oaks and firs below—
The turf is verdant with the spray—
There sleeps the dust of Morna Grey.
And Huon?—Still his daring arm
Was lifted in his country's aid,
Though life had lost its sunniest charm,
And o'er the future hung a shade;
And time would fail me now to tell
Of all the deeds his valor wrought,
How, when Fort Moultrie's color fell,
He mounted 'mid the flames and shot
The merlon height, and fixed on high
The starry banner 'mid the sky.
Nor how he died—the nobly slain,
In bearing from the battle-plain
The flag intrusted to his care.
But deeds like these were common then
As life, and light, and air;
Brave deeds that shall forever round
Our nation's annals cling;
Perchance some louder harp shall sound,
Some bolder spirit sing.
For me—the first pale star on high
Herald's the night with beaming eye,
And down the west has rolled the sun—
My song is o'er—my task is done.
NOTE.
During the Revolution, a young girl plighted to an officer of Marion's corps, followed him without being discovered to the camp, where, dressed in male attire, and unknown to him, she enrolled in the service. A few days after, during a fierce conflict that occurred, she stood by his side in the thickest of the fight, and in turning away a lance aimed at his heart received it in her own, and fell bleeding at his feet. She was buried on the banks of the Santee. He was afterward distinguished in the service at Fort Moultrie, and at Savannah, where he received his death-wound in carrying off the flag which was intrusted to him.
THE POLE'S FAREWELL.
BY WM. H. C. HOSMER.
Warsaw, farewell! Alone that word
Fame's dark eclipse recalls;
The voice of wail alone is heard
Within her ruined walls—
Her pavement rings beneath the tread
Of bondsmen by their master led.