Poems and prose of Orion T. Dozier. 5th ed., including selected poems and prose from former publications

HOHJ,aV HIU ,10 M3X

THE STARS AND BARS
PACK 50
WE IX>VBD ITS HOLY MISSION,
EVERY HOPB THAT re INSPIRED,
AND WE HONOR BVBRY MARTYR WHO BENEATH ITS FOLDS EXPIRED.

A
GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES AND OTHER POEMS
V
BY
ORION T. DOZIER, M. D.
A COMPILATION OF MANY HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED EFFUSIONS OF THE AUTHOR, AND A NUMBER OF OTHERS WHICH HAVE APPEARED IN SUNDRY PERIODICALS BUT LARGELY A REPRINT OF THOSE APPEARING IN THE FIRST AND SECOND EDITIONS OF
"FOIBLES OF FANCY AND RHYMES OF THE TIMES " ISSUfD BY THf WRIT1R IN THE YEAR MM
BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA. 10OB

Entered according to Act of Conf ren, in the year Nineteen hundred and five. ORION T. DOZIIR,
At the office of the Librarian at Wuhlnfton, D. C.
1905:
PRESS OF DISPATCH PRINTING COMPAKY, BIRMINGHAM, ALA.

O9

PREFACE.

W HEN ten years ago I yielded to the importuning-a of my children and some of my personal friends to pub

lish a collection of my rhymes, it was with no expec

tation or desire to attract any great interest of the public to

myself or to my efforts in versification, for I have never

aspired to literary distinction, nor to poetic notoriety.

Whatever attempts I have made in this line have been,

for the most part, to while away some leisure moments, or

to comply with some friendly request; or else to eulogize

our Confederate heroes, whose uneqnaled glory has always

been to me a theme of inspiration, and has impelled me to

attempt in poetic lines to give vent to those sentiments and

emotions which, welling- up in my heart, seemed too sacred

for common prose to express. And it is more to the worthi

ness of that theme in this particular than to any merit of

my verses that I ascribe the quick disposal of the first and

second editions of my unpretentious volume, and my chief

incentive now in presenting this later compilation of my

effusions is but a desire to gratify the oft repeated requests

of many of my friends and old comrades of the Confederacy.

Neither claiming1 nor asking1 any credit for my feeble

efforts in these pages, I only consent to put them forth for

the reasons just stated, and to gratify my own desire thai it

be accepted and regarded by all as my humble tribute to the

sacred memory of Southern heroes who contended so val

iantly, but in vain, for the upholding- of the Cause so just,

but so unfortunate in its lamentable fall, and for whom my

humble muse has so often attempted to soar in songs of

praise.

ORION T. DOZIER.

DEDICATION.
"pO THE " United Son. " and " United Daughters of the * Confederacy," scions of the most noble, chivalrous,
brave, and heroic exemplars of soldierly and loyal patriot ism the most faithful adherents to their God-given instincts of racial superiority, and fidelity to their Cauca sian blood scions of the Statesmen, Heroes, and Soldiers of the South, upon whom must devolve the sacred duty to themselves, their progenitors, their country, and their God, of defending the facts, shielding the justness, and of com bating the falsehoods and calumnies concerning that Cause which their noble sires so valiantly struggled to defend, or died to maintain:
I dedicate this little volume, trusting only that my senti ments in verse pertaining to our Sunny South and Southern Dead, though but feebly expressed, may help to inspire them with continned courage to proclaim to the world that their fathers cause is not dead, that only the dust of its defenders is confined to the tomb, that the spirit of freedom, and of justice, still survives in the hearts of their descend ants, and like "Truth, crushed to earth, will rise again."
THE AUTHOR.

CONTENTS.
A Galaxy of Southern Heroes....................................... 1 For Freedom Float tbe Flags I Love ........................ 17 I Think I Thtmk a Lie................................................ 25 A Sigh for the Sea....................................................... 30 Don t Forget Yoar Poor Old Mother............................ 32 Truthful Holers Narrow Escape....... .......................... 34 I Do Not Know............................................................ 37 A Dream-City Dream................................................... 39 Uncle Mose on the Prodigals Return........................... 42 The Star* and Bars .................................................. 49 Be Careful How Yon Tread.......................................... 51 Infelice............................................... ........................ 52 The Vale of Losahatchie.............................................. 53 Line* for Jefferson Daviss Anniversary...................... 54 Sermon by Uncle Mose, No. 1....................................... 56 A Rebels Reverie ....................................................... 59 My Mothers Heart............................. ....................... 61 To Minnie......................... ......................................... 63 An Evening Reverie.................................................... 65 A Wish........................................................... ........... 68 Alabama...................................................................... 69 Georgia............. ........................................................ 72 Speech of Uncle Moe._................................................ 74 The Death of William McKinley- ............................... 76 Faith ......... ............................................... ................. 78 Dont It Sorter Look that Way ?_................................. 79 Time.............................. .............................. .............. 82 The Death of Jefferson Davia...................................... 83 Shall I Forget ?......... .................................................. 84 The Evening Prayer..................................................... 86 The Flag and Harp of Erin.......................................... 87 The Ballot ................................................................... 90

TAGS The Stars and Stripes................................................... 92
Shame, O My Country, Shame..................................... 95 Could I Forget ?._....................... ........................... .... 98
Rizpah......................................................................... 99 Uncle Mose on Independence Day................................ 102
Some Day..................................................................... 106 Courage and Ambition..............!,................................... 108 You Are My Sweetheart Yet........................................ Ill Cupids Auction............................................................ 112 Take Back the Lie_...................................................... 115 Man Was Made for Woe............................................... 117
Sermon by Uncle Mose, No. 2...................................... 119 The Rationale of Sin..........................I................... ..... 121 Policy.................... .......................... ...;...................... 125 Shams and Shacks...................................................... 127 Coosa River................................................................. 129 A Spring: Cant-Oh........................................................ 133 Cleopatra..................................................... ............... 136 The Death of Cheatham.......................... .................. 140 Lines Sent With a Boquet _.......................................... 142 Gordon ........................................................................ 143 Pepper Sauce............................................................... 145 The Army of Temperance........................................... 147 Oh, Blessed be the Land_............................................. 150 To-Morrow.................................................... .............. 154 A Hunters Wish. ........................................................ 156 Not for Bread Alone..................................................... 158 Jefferson Davis.................................................. ......... 161 There is no God............................................................ 162 Waiting and Dreaming................................................ 163
Im in Love With Two Girls. ...................................... 165
In Duteous Love We Come Again............... ................ 167
Song by Uncle Mose.................................................... 170 The Exiles Wish......................................................... 173 Woman and the Snake................................................. 174 Natalitia_ .................................................................... 176
A Plea for Unity......................................................... 178
Our Soldiers' Graves.................................................... 180

PACK A trovers Pique............................ .............................. 181 Dying Abelard............................................................. 183 The Dude ................................................................... 185 Brave NickeU of Kentucky......................... ................. 187 Adieu to "Ninety-Four "........................................... .. 189 The Girls of Silver Creek............................................. 191 We Come Once More.................................................... 194 A Woman of the Town................................................. 195
Waiting and Ionging._................................................ 197
Give Me for a Friend.................................................... 198 Iinea for Thanksgiving Day................. ..................... 200 A Phillipic on Exemption Laws.................................... 201 The Wreck.................................. .............................. 203 Good-Bye.................................................................... 205 Our Nations Shame_........................... ............. ......... 207 My Friend................................................................... 210 The Right- ................................. ........ ..................... 212 Woman........................................................................ 214 The Soldiers Grave.................... ................................ 218 An Orphans Story.......... ............................................ 219 Our Confederate Dead _............................................... 224 The Unfortunates Pica............................................... 229 The Crank............. ................. ....................... ........... 232 Our Sunny Iand and Southern Dead..................... ... 234 Till I Come Back Again............................................... 238 Slanderers of Gordon................................................... 240 Waiting at the River.................................................... 243 " Our Order Here "...................................................... 244 Mourn, Georgia, Mourn................................................ 246 My Ltosahatchie Home................................................. 248 In Paradise.......... ...................................................... 249 Memorial Day Invocation............................................. 252 Six and Thirty Tears Ago.......... ................................. 253 Welcome Song............................................................. 256 A Dream that Was Not All a Dream............................ 258 Blithesome Little Libby............................................... 260 Forget Me Not................................................... ......... 261 A Fragment. .............................................................. 261

PAOB Club Sons No. 1........................................ .................. 262 Club Song No. 2........................................................... 263
Club Song No. 3........................................................... 264 Club Song: No. 4........................................................... 265
Retrospection.............................................................. 266 To Lizzie.......................... .......................................... 273 Kicker*........................................................ ................274
Hail St. Patricks Day.................................................. 276 No Compromise for Me.......... ..................................... 277 Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Iale._........................................ 279
The Death of Admiral Semmes..................................... 280 The Gallant Imtnunes.................................................. 281 The Guitar................................................................... 282 A Plea to Mayor Lane................................................. 284 Life............................................................................ 285 South Rome.................................................................. 286 Jack Frost................ .................................................. 287 Love................... .............. ......................................... 287 My Life is Like a Ship at Sea................. .................... 288 Good-Bye Song to F. L. S............................................ 289 'Tis Then I Think of Yon............................................ 290 Lines to J. L. T._......................................................... 291 The Murdered Wife...................................................... 292 A Horrid Dream........................................................... 294 Booming Birmingham................................................. 296 The Yankees Are ComingTM.......................................... 298 Lines Written on the Fly-Leaf of a Book...................... 299
My Native Land........................................................... 300
Drifting Away............................................................. 303

A <alax nf i.
Once more the genial Southern sun Has called the roses into bloom,
Once more the fragrant jessamine Lades all the air with sweet perfume ;
Once more the little mating birds In every bush and tree are seen,
Once more the earth her carpet spreads Of softest velvet-grassy green.
II. Once more the dove of peace is heard
In every valley, glen and cove ; Once more I come with rapturous heart
To greet the comrades that I love ; And freed from bate and prejudice,
All bitter memories laid aside, My muse but wakes to sing the praise
Of those who for my country died.
III. And anon, here and there to lay
A chaplet on some worthy brow Of glorious hero yet alive
And, as I place it, humbly bow, As well I should, with reverence due ;
For language is too weak to prove How deep, how strong the wondrous depths
Of my unfathomed founts of love.

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES
IV.
But would to God my struggling muse Could break the bonds that bind my soul,
And let my wild, impassioned thoughts Like ocean's stormy billows roll,
While I so vainly now attempt To sing in lofty peans grand
That meed of praise to patriots due-- The heroes of my native land.
V. With Heaven's face for music scroll
And realms of space for octave bars, My clefs should be the sun and moon,
My music notes the blazing stars, And oh! I 'd sing with lofty strain
And sweep the gamut of the skies, Till every sleeping patriot's soul
Should wake and from his grave arise 1
VI. But oh! how feeble, weak am I,
Poor, humble creature of the sod, Who deigns to touch a theme too grand
For any being but that God Who rules the earth and realms above,
Who speaks, and suns and worlds obey: He, only He, the living God
Their meed of praise can ever pay.

AND OTHBR POEMS.
VII.
What tho' I had the cyclone's force, The flaming lightning for my tongue,
A brain as broad as universe, MyVoice to tones of thunder strung,
I still must fall unmeasured short In praise of those I fain would name,
For God but made such God-like men To point the source from whence they came.
VIII.
How many names--bright, glorious gems -- In Southern galaxy are set,
To blaze like suns forever bright In fame's eternal coronet.
Behold you, first, our Washington, Whose hands'the stars and stripes unfurled,
A Christian soldier, patriot true, The foremost rebel of the world.
I..
Then see yon brilliant, fiery star, Proud Robert Toombs--majestic man,
With wild, tempestuous, flaming soul, Too great for human words to span,
From out whose nigged, heaving breast, In raging, seething tempests, rolled
Consuming flames of eloquence-- Mount ./Etna, he, of human mold.

A GAtAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROBS
X.
And could I paint with master hand
The great Orion of the sky, With starry belt and lifted club,"
With daring mien to do or die, What would I do but hold to view
The chief of that heroic clan Who San Jacinto's battle won,
And name Sam Houston as the man.
XI. But countless as the countless stars
That in the dome of heaven shine, Each name as bright as face of Mars,
Made glorious by their deeds sublime, And bright'ning with the passing years
Is that great constellation grand Who followed where our Davis led --
The heroes of our Southern land.
XII. Xo low'ring cloud of dark defeat
Can dim or shut their light from view, But high above the horizon,
Where God to justice gives its due, They shine within a firmament
As fixed as that of heaven's own, And shed a glory on the world,
The brightest earth has ever known.

AND OTHER POEMS.
XIII. Go look upon Manassas' plains,
Where Bull Run ever onward flows, No monument is needed there
Ourjsoldier's valor to disclose;. Eternal as that flowing stream
Will rest the fame of him who fell, Brave, gallant Barlow leading on,
While earth first shook with rebel yell.
XIV. And when will history cease to tell
Of Shiloh's dark and bloody ground ? Mot whilst the stars in heaven shine
And suns shall rise and worlds go round, For every patriot of the earth
Who lights his soul with hopes of fame Will think of Shiloh and with pride
Will mention Sidney Johnston's name.
XV. Then turn your gaze on Kenesaw,
With rugged domes uplifted high, See there that altar built by God
As fitting place for him to die Who cast aside his priestly robes
For sword and belt and suit of gray -- Brave, glorious Polk, the soldier-priest,
Whose name shall live through endless day.

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROBS

XVI.

Now fain would I if I but could

Snatch from yon sunset's oriflame

Its golden glories to illume

My trembling lips that breathe the name

*]

Of him who died on gallows tree:

Sam Davis, glorious martyred youth

Who spurned the proffered bribe of life

To die for country and for truth.

XVII.

And could my muse on soaring wing

Mount up to yon celestial height

Of star bespangled heavenly dome

And pluck from out the Crown of Night

Its brightest gems and diadems

:

And with God's aid transmute each flame

To thoughts that blaze and words that burn

I' d weave a wreath and put to shame

XVIIL

The grandest eulogy of praise

',

That poet's pen or mortal's tongue

'j

To woman fair has ever paid,

*

And every thought with jewels hung

Should be a royal, glittering gem

Of radiance bright and beauty rare

To crown the patriotic brow

Of our Southern women fair.

AND OTHER POEMS.
XIX.
But not for me their praise to sing, Tho' Heaven I know, however sweet,
Without their every presence there Must in its bliss be incomplete;
Then let some nobler tongue than mine The glorious, loving task essay;
I' 11 simply pray, God bless them all! And sing of those who wore the gray.
XX. For like the herald of the morn
That paints the Oriental skies, With amber rays and gorgeous hues
And heaven's own intermingling dyes, So but the thought of those who died
For that Lost Cause, so just and right, Awakes my soul with glowing love
And heavenly inspirations bright.
XXI Then give to me, O God, I crave,
The power that never yet expressed Those thoughts that well within my soul
And surge within my heaving breast, That I may reach a glorious height
In epic strain and words sublime To weave an amaranthine wreath
As fadeless as eternal time

A. GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROKS
XXII. To lay upon the hallowed shrine
Of those for whom we mourn to-day, The noblest of heroic braves
That ever went to battle fray And shed their blood on freedom's field,
Disdaining life and glad to die Rather than their rights to yield,
And now at home with God on high.
XXIII. What tho' no stone shall mark their graves,
Nor sentry guard their place of rest, They sleep within their humble graves,
Serenely sweet with glory blessed ; Whilst on each mountain, vale and plain
Where raged the storm of battle's flame They' vc left an everlasting print
That marks them with their deathless fame.
XXIV. Go stand upon the Cumberland,
Go view the heights of Tennessee, Go climb to Lookout's lofty point
And gaze as far as eye can see; On every crag and every plain,
Marked by the storm of battle blast, The name of Bragg is over all,
To linger there while time shall last.
J

AND OTHER POEMS.
XXV. And hear you there the distant boom
And feel you there the vibrant jar Of quaking earth beneath the roar
Of thunder-crashing guns of war, Let loose by that young demigod
That re-incarnate soul of Jove, Born but to reign mid battle storm.
The kingly Pelham, gods might love.
XXVI.
And lo! above each mountain pass, Each hill and vale, each cove and glen,
A glorious halo lingers yet, Where, meteor-like, that prince of men,
In brilliant speed and splendor swept Athwart the flames on battle crest
Pat Cleburne with his flashing blade, The blazing comet of the West.
XXVII.
Then look on yon great ocean wide, Extending far as billows sweep,
Cut by the Alabamas keel See there a name engraven deep.
Eternal and as lasting there As Neptunes star in yonder sky
Brave Admiral Semmes, a hero grand, Whose name and fame can never die.

10

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

;:

XXVIII.

(

And yet, oh yet, with rapturous eyes To Cuban Isle but turn your gaze,
See where oppression long has reigned A rising star, destined to blaze
Eternal on Old Glory, dear. Joe Wheeler, great in peace and war,
Has plucked from out the Antilles For freedom's flag another star.

XXIX.
And when storm rocked Atlanta shook And writhed beneath the shrieking shell,
When tempests wild around her raged, And leaden hail in fury fell,
When lightning flashed and thunders rolled And flowed her streets with crimson flood,
Who then stood there -- bright star of hope -- But brave, defiant Ajax-Hood ?

XXX.
And o'er yon Old Dominion State, Star gemmed, her crown with glory shines,
With Southern pride I here avow That nowhere on this earth's confines
Can there be found another land Which can so many heroes claim,
And bright amid her brightest stars Shines glorious Stonewall Jackson's name.

AND OTHER POEMS.

11

XXXI.
And glittering like a royal gem Above my own fair Georgia high,
I see another brilliant star, As bright as ever decked the sky,
Intrepid, brilliant Gordon, brave, The patriot, statesman,' warrior grand,
Of Southern manhood, brightest type, An honor to his native land.
XXXII.
Nor less resplendent is the light Of him, old South Carolina's star,
Whose fiery soul was made by God To blaze amid the storms of war;
And high on fame's eternal height, With all the glorious and sublime,
Wade Hampton's name, in glory set, Will shine while roll the wheels of time.
XXXIII.
Now see yon grand, majestic stream, The great mid-continental sea,
Whose course no human force can check, With currents deep yet flowing free,
Unswerving in its onward sweep, Proud Mississippi, king of streams,
See, and behold while gazing there A fitting type to me it seems

12

A GAI.AXY OP SODTHBRN HBROB3

XXXIV.
Of him whose grand and kingly soul -- Too strong for tyrant bonds to quell,
Too deep for prejudice to mar, Too broad to curb by prison cell --
Proud, God-like man, I breath his name With reverence and with deathless love --
Jeff Davis, brightest star of fame, May heaven rest his soul above.

XXXV.
But where, oh! where, my wavering muse, Where wilt thou lead me in thy flight
To find a type or simile Of him, the grandest, noblest knight
That ever sword from scabbard drew ? Not in the land Columbus gave
Canst thou a likeness for him find; Then seek beyond old ocean's wave

XXXVI.
Where God His grandest works designed; Go view the Alps and Pyrenees,
Then onward to the Himalays, Where great Mount Everest, rising, sees
All other mountains far below, His own grand form enrobed with cloud,
His royal head God crowned with snow-- Yes, go and view this mountain proud --

AND OTHER POEMS.

13

XXXVII.
This great, majestic, towering king The grandest, highest of the world
Gods monument of strength and power, Defying every storm thats hurled,
All lightning blows from rival foes; Yes, go and you this mountain see,
Then tell me if thou yet hast found A prototype of Robert Lee!
XXXVIII.
Ah, no! ah, no! my faithful muse, Thou further yet must wing thy flight.
Go mount yon Heavens vaulted dome, Explore the "azure seas of night";
Go poise amid the glittering throng Of starry pageants in the sky,
And measure thou great Alcyone, The central sun of worlds on high,
XXXIX.
Round whom all suns and worlds revolve; The first, the greatest and the best
Of all the shining heavenly spheres And, poising there, thy wings may rest;
For in that far celestial zone, There mid the circling pleiades see
That king of worlds, imperial orb, Gods prototype of Robert Lee.

14

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROBS

XL.

And now, oh! now, my halting muse,

While poising 'mid celestial heights

I

Of blazing suns and mighty worlds,

Of shining moons and satellites,

I bid thee, if thou canst, to pluck

From orbs on high, celestial fire

And fling it down into my soul,

That it may warm me and inspire

XLI.
My soul to higher, loftier strain Than ever bard hath dared to sing,
For meed of praise to privates due Should make the very welkin ring ,
And call angelic convoys down From Heaven's bright, supernal sphere,
To catch the strain and tune their harps To notes that they would gladly hear.

XLII.
What tho' no circumstance or pomp Hath written down each separate name --
What tho' no granite column tells The individual private's fame --
What tho' on earth there 's no reward For all their suffering, toil and strife--
Their names, thank God, in realms on high Are written in the "Book of Life."

AND OTHER POEMS.

15

XLIII.
Yes, tho' unmarked and hardly known, Almost obscure and hid from view,
Theirs is a glory, none the less, As bright as ever Heaven knew.
Yea, like the rolling, shining orbs That glow in yonder " Milky Way,"
Tho' only faint and dimly seen, They blaze as does yon god of day.
XLIV.
For never since the morning stars Together.sang with joyful song
O'er new-born earth, by God-head sent To join the grand, triumphal throng
Of suns and worlds that onward sweep Around His great, majestic throne,
Was ever truer, nobler men Than Southern private soldiers known.
XLV.
Not even that celestial host Who drove, with wrathful thunders dire,
The traitor Satan and his horde From Heaven's courts to pits of fire,
Were more unselfish, brave and true Than was that grand, heroic band
Who fought beneath the " Stars and Bars" For God, for home, and native land.

16

A GALAXY OP SOUTHBRN HEROES

XLVI.
And when old earth's last round is run, And God commands her march to halt,
When Gabriel, adjutant on high, The roll shall read from yonder vault,
Where suns and worlds, in ranks aligned, Shall stand to hear God's orders read,
May crowns the brightest God can give Be there for every private's head.

AND OTHER POEMS.

17

FOR FREEDOM FLOAT THE FLAGS I LOVE.
Written for and read on the occasion of the Roben Enmett Anni versary Celebration at the Jefferson Theatre, Birmingham, Ala., March 4,19T2, nnder the auspices of the Gaelic Idterary Club.
I love the man who loves his God, His country and his fellow-man,
No matter what his state or birth, No matter what his creed or clan;
And in my very inmost heart, In spite of all that fates decree,
I love him ever more and more, The more he loves his liberty.

I love the flags, the fallen flags, Of every land of all the world
By men upreared in freedoms cause, But which oppressions hands have furled.
Their memory, like a sweet incense, A fragrance sheds, all hearts to thrill,
And keeps aglow the lingering spark Of liberty remaining still.
And by my faith in living God, I still maintain that free consent
Of subjects is the only grant Entailing right of Government.
That conquest only paves the way For brigands and despotic might,
Which in the sight of Holy God Was never, nor can eer be right.

18

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

I love the glorious stars and stripes, My great fore-father's flag and mine;
It gives me joy to see it wave Where'er it floats o'er Freedom's shrine,
But if profaned by traitor hands, To subjugate on foreign shore
A nation struggling to be free, If I were there, -- 'twere mine no more.

Nor would I follow in its wake, Nor treat with those who thus offend,
For all who dare that flag pervert, Deserve the death which has no end.
And rather than that I should aid In such unjust, unholy shame,
I 'd suffer this warm heart of mine Torn from my breast and cast in flame.

But if there be on this wide earth A people bowed by galling yoke
Of tyrant, Emperor, King, or Czar, Who would be free, and should invoke
"Old Glory's" shielding strength and might, Before my God I 'd bid it fly
And with it there myself would go, To make them free, or 'neath it die.
I love the flag, the honored flag, Now drooping o'er the dying Boer.
'Tis tattered, drooping, sinking low; Perhaps to float on earth no more.

i

AMD OTHBR POEMS.

19

But braver deeds in freedom's cause Were never done by sons of Mars,
Than those beneath Paul Kruger's flag, Old Erin's and the Stars and Bars.

And well may England stand aghast While she reviews the awful cost,
And contemplates the countless graves Filled with the legions she has lost
In trampling down that honored flag, Since well she knows not all her dead
Were stricken down by native Boers, For thousands died from Irish lead.

Nor will the Irish e'er forget To right the wrongs of England's might,
Nor ever shirk or slight a chance To show her how they love to fight
'Neath any flag in freedom's cause, Her mean, rapacious course to check,
While she retains her despot heel Upon their prostrate country's neck.

Nor love I less old Erin's flag, Kept sacred thro' the countless years
Unspotted by a single stain, Save by a loving people's tears.
I love it for its sacred cause, A cause forever dear to me, --
The right ordained of God to man, -- The right inherent to be free.

20

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROES

Its hue, the shamrock's living green, Whose roots lie deep in mother sod,
And like that plant, tho' crushed and torn, That flag though under foot be trod
Survives in spite of time and fate, And like the sun in yonder sky
Comes forth renewed at every turn, By God ordained to never die.

Born in the love of liberty, By faith enshrined in every heart
That beats in breast of patriot Disdainful of the tyrant's art;
That flag shall yet triumphant wave Above the land that gave it birth,
And kissed by every ocean breeze, Be hailed in every port on earth.

For while the cycling years of time

Roll onward in resistless sweep,

Old Erin's sons throughout the world

Next to their hearts that flag will keep,

t

And longingly abide the day When they shall bear it back afar
To that green Isle from whence exiled

j

To blaze once more 'mid storms of war.

Even now in my prophetic eye A vision grand sweeps on my view,
I see a thousand mustering clans With dauntless leaders brave and true.

AND OTHER POEMS.

21

Each panoplied and armed for war, The. green flag oer them floating high,
An army grand, a million strong, Resolved to conquer or to die.

I also see a mighty fleet Of war-ships bounding through the spray,
With every deck for action cleared, As now they enter Dublin Bay.
And then I hear a mighty shout, A shout that seems the earth to shake,
Wild cheers of joy, so long and loud Enough almost the dead to wake.

A stillness now comes over all, A stillness that precedes the storm,
I see the legions grim and stern Now lining up in battle form.
Ten thousand cannon frowning grim To muzzle filled with shot and shell,
Mute war-dogs, waiting but the word To sound oppressions final knell.
Far to the right and to the left Come platoons filing on platoons,
Brave mounted knights in armor clad, An army grand of brave dragoons.
White foam-flecked steeds with couriers bold Across the field are flying fast,
I hear afar the drums deep roll; Earth soon shall quake neath battle blast.

22

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROES

I turn my gaze and distant see The British legion's flag on high.
I hear the signal bugle's call, The great conflict is drawing nigh.
Brave leaders quick their sabers flash; Like thunder sounds the signal gun,
Earth quivers 'neath the awful crash, No quarter now 'till freedom's won.

A hundred thousand muskets blaze, Ten thousand cannon hurl their shell,
Shots, shrapnel, grape and cannister, Which hurtling shriek like fiends of hell,
Exploding bombs like thunder crash, And rend the air with flaming breath,
Whilst over all a sulphurous pall Now spreads a canopy of death.

Through which I see the dragoons charge, Their sabers flashing in the light
Like lightning tongues in frenzied freak When storm gods ride the sea at night;
I see them reach the flaming crest, Lean forward in their righteous wrath,
Each blade descends and foes succumb Like brittle reeds in cyclone's path.

More sombre grows the sulphurous cloud, More ominous seems the awful din,
Yet now and then I catch the sound Of leaders cheering on their men,

AND OTHER POEMS.

23

And bright o'er all like meteors flash That rives the darkness of the sky,
I see old Erin's bright green flag Still triumphant floating high.

Though fierce indeed the conflict's been, Thank God for all, when day is done
The British flag lies in the dust-- Old Erin's flag the fight has won!
No more St. George's cross shall wave O'er Ireland redeemed and free,
The harp and shamrock takes its place, Bright emblems of her liberty.

Start not nor deem my vision wild, Or but a vain and empty dream,
The future yet the truth shall prove 'Tis prophecy, whate'er it seem.
For mills of God grind slow indeed, But grind they do exceeding fine,
And Irish pluck and patience yet Shall see fulfilled this dream of mine.
Till then! 'till then! let prayers ascend To God above who rules the world,
To speed with haste the coming day When that dear flag shall be unfurled
And Erin's sons throughout the earth 'Neath spreading sail through ocean's foam
For God, for justice and the right Shall bear that glorious banner home.

24

A GA.I.AXY OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

And when in grand imperial might It floats unchallenged, bold and free
O'er Ireland redeemed at last, From every thrall of tyranny
And breast abreast with nations great, In royal robes of majesty,
She stands confessed by all the world An independent nation free,

Then let the man by God inspired, With scintillating genius bright
And heart aglow with rapt'rous love Make haste the glorious task to write
That yet unwritten epitaph, In thoughts that burn and words that flame,
And when 'tis done, above it write The Martyred Hero, Emmett's name!

AND OTHER POBMS.

25

I THINK I THUNK A UE.
I used to think when I was young, And my heart was free from guile,
That there was grief in every tear And joy in every smile;
That friendship was not all a cheat And love could never die,
But thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

I used to think about myself, And think that I would be
A Governor or a President, Or a General like Lee;
But I have waited long in vain, Whilst years rolled slowly by,
And, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

I used to think the ladies were All sweetnesses combined,
That they were all God's last and best Of perfectness refined;
That they were not half pads and paint; But angels from on high,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

26

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

The preachers, too, I used to think, Were not like other men,
And were not tempted of the flesh, And could not, therefore, sin;
But since I 've traveled round a bit I 've watched them on the sly,
And, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

The honest tiller of the soil, When marketing his crop,
Takes pains to put the ripe and best Always upon the top;
I used to think those honest men Would never cheat nor try,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

The editors, a lordly set, Who live on milk and honey,
They' ve nothing else on earth to do But write and rake in money;
Leastwise, that way I used to think, But now it makes me cry,
To think about the way I thunk, And how I thunk a lie.
What noble men the doctors are I I used to think they came
From Heaven or some heavenly land And worked for love and fame;

AND OTHER POEMS.

27

That they could cure all human ills, And never let us die,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

The lawyers, too, I used to think, Oh, God forgive the thought,
That their convictions of the right Could not by knaves be bought;
That they would not a client rob, Or "sell" him on the sly,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

The dry-goods men are honest, too, They '11 swear they sell at cost,
I used to think they told the truth, And all their profits lost;
I thought a yard was full three feet, Don 't ask my reasons why,
But, thinking now oi what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

The hotel clerk, I used to think, Would try to be polite,
Would answer questions put to him, And treat a stranger right;
And rather than he 'd play the ass That he would sooner die,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

28

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROBS

The Democrats, I used to think, If once they got the floor,
Would turn the dirty rascals out, And kick 'em from the door;
That they would stop the tariff steal That piles the surplus high,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

And then I thought that Harrison, Who took old Grover's shoes,
Would have the backbone and the grit To give us all our dues;
But tariff laws and pension frauds Still make the nation sigh,
And, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

I used to think elections were The public will to voice,
And not a thimble-rigging game To give the cliques their choice;
That patriotism played its part, Tho' stills were never dry,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

I used to think that public schools Would fill a long-felt need,
By teaching all our boys and girls To write and spell and read;

AND OTHER POEMS.

29

But now red tape and rottenness Is everywhere the cry,
And, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

The niggers, too, I used to think, If once they were set free,
Would make good, honest citizens, Like white folks used to be;
But they have wandered far from grace, The chickens still roost high,
And, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

I used to think the town police, With all his blue and brass,
Would never sleep upon his post, Nor let a criminal pass;
That on " blind tigers " they would keep An ever watchful eye,
But, thinking now oi what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

Our prison house, I used to think, A model kind of jail,
That they who 'd try its walls to break Would most assuredly fail;
That guardsmen there to duty sworn Would ne'er let prisoners fly,
But, thinking now of what I thunk, I think I thunk a lie.

30

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

I used to think the poor Chinee Was worse than " Melican man "--
That we should missionaries send With civilization's plan;
But thinking now of late events Beneath our Southern sky,
I rather think that what I thunk Was "wusser" than a lie.

A SIGH FOR THE SEA.
Oh, give me a home by the deep, blue sea, The ocean all boundless and wide,
Let me list to the sounds that ever resound In its every sweet, murmuring tide;
At morn let me wake, its breakers to hear, At night let it lull me to sleep,
In its murmurs, though drear, there's music to cheer, When my heart seems melting to weep.
I long to walk by the surf-beaten shore, And to gaze o'er the watery main,
Which beats on the strand of my own native land, That never shall know me again;
For tho' a poor exile, wandering afar, Unfriended, unloved I must roam,
My heart ever yearns and longingly turns To that ocean-bound isle of my home.

AND OTHER POEMS.

31

Then marvel you not that I sigh for a place On the shores of the deep blue sea,
For each billow that gleams a messenger seems From that land that is dearest to me;
And I hear in each breeze that comes o'er the seas, The voice of a loved one fair,
Who, waiting so long for her lover's return, Has gone to her grave in despair.

And now all the joy in life that I ask, Is to walk and to muse by the sea,
Whose every low surge is a funeral dirge For that loved one now lost to me;
And to gaze o'er the main, with longings tho' vain, And to mingle my tears with the wave
Which the tides in their sweep should bear o'er the deep
To moisten the grass on her grave.

32

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROBS

DON T FORGET YOUR POOR OLD MOTHER
When young my heart was happy, I loved my dear old home,
'Till reading of adventurers that tempted me to roam;
Vain longings quelled my reason, ambitions filled my breast;
I left my home and loved ones and wandered far out West:
I met with wild companions and led a wayward life, I learned to drink and gamble, and oft engaged in
strife; But sickness came upon me and filled me with despair, Then dear old mother's parting words came ringing
on my ear.
CHORUS.
Don 't forget your poor old mother, Don 't forget your mother, Will,
Don 't forget your poor old mother, She is praying for you still.
One day I got a letter, and in that letter read, Dear Will, your poor old father is numbered with the
dead; Your sister and your brother have long since gone
away, Your poor old mother's all alone, no one with her to
stay;

AND OTHER POEMS.

33

Her tresses now are whiter than when you saw her last,
Her steps are slow and feeble, her years are nearly past;
Each day I see her waiting and watching every train, I know her heart is breaking, Will, to see her boy
again.
CHOKUS.
Don t forget your poor old mother, Don t forget your mother, Will,
Don t forget your poor old mother, She is praying for you still.

I read that letter over and then made up my mind, Back to my home to hasten to mother sweet and kind; I reached the cottage portal and bounded in the door But the place, alas, was vacant, she d gone forever
more; In silent desolation the place had long been left, Of every charm that hallowed twas now, alas, bereft; A passing stranger told me the story of her death, And these the words she dying spake with her last
parting breath. CHORUS.
Dont forget your poor old mother, Don t forget your mother, Will,
Don t forget your poor old mother, She is praying for you still.

34

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

TRUTHFUL BOLER'S NARROW ESCAPE.
You may talk of Georgia cyclones, Of Alerbamer rains --
'Bout yer South Car'liny earthquakes, Or Georgy hurricanes;
But it's only we who 've traveled Over the plains out West
Have ever seed th" elements Jest fairly do their best.

As for what you call yer cyclones Or harricanes yer 've had,
Which brush away a town or two, An' which you think so bad,
If compared to Western blizzards, In works of wreck and death,
Why, they 're no more like cyclones Than is a baby's breath.

Of course, you 've had some winters cold, Some summers kinder hot;
But the West can more than beat yer, Yet never strike er trot.
It ain't no use of talkin' Or listenin' ter yer chumps,
For when it comes ter weather The West has got ther trumps.

AND OTHER POEMS.

35

Yer cyclones an yer Georgy storms, I honestly avow,
If they occurred in Texas, Theyd hardly stop er plow;
Unless it was in springtime, Long bout the fust uv May,
When folks mout go er-fishing, Jest ter enjoy the day.

Ive seeo it git so cold out thar, Little as yer may think,
That all the liquord freeze so hard We couldnt git er drink,
An ter keep ourselves from freezin Wed bust the barrels head,
An* eat it with er knife an fork, Jest like twas meat an bread.

An then Ive seed it git so hot That every lake an stream
Would fairly bile and cook th 6sh, While rising fogs uv steam
Would float off like er mighty cloud An shet the sun fum sight
An make the day at twelve er clock As dark as at midnight.
Now, as fer storms uv rain an hail, You fellers couldn t dream
Of sich er scrape as I had once While drivin uv er team

36

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

;

Er six-mule perary schooner

Er cross er Texas plain;

'

Oh, sich er scrape I trust th' Lord

I '11 never have ergain.

.;

Er hundred miles frum house or tree,

,

Er shed of any kind,

I

When all at once I seed er cloud,

.

An' heard er roarin' wind,

1

While rain began ter fall in sheets

U,

At least four inches thick;*

Hail, too, sot in ter comin' down

Like walls of fallin' brick.

Th' stones were big as cocanuts,

1

Not lighter by an ounce,

>

An as they hit yer oughter seed

|

Jest how they' d thump and bounce.

j:

They pounded ev'ry mule ter death,

I

My wagon broke ter smash,

I

And when th' storm was over

\

It was jest er pile of trash.

I

Oh, I tell yer it was awful,

I

Jest almost makes me cry;

What 1 does any of you fellers

S'pose I would tell a lie ?



How did I escape, you ask,

i

I'll tell yer all right now --

'Twas by downright'darn good dodgin'

An' by prayin' -- that's jest how.

AND OTHER POEMS.

37

I DO NOT KNOW.
Sometimes I pause in awful doubt That God e'er answers prayer,
And ask, if so, why my poor heart Is left to its despair;
And why, if God can hear and aid The plea of those distressed,
There comes no peace to break the gloom That burdens my poor breast.
For earnestly I've sought in vain, Through prayer's most fluent flow,
But why my pleas are answered not, I do not know, I do not know.

And when I sink into the tomb, Shall I yet rise again ?
Shall sentient soul rebel with earth And breaking death's cold chain,
Leave cold, corrupting clay behind And mount to other spheres;
Or sleep in apathetic dust Through time's eternal years,
Forgetful and forgot of earth With all its joys and woe ?
Alas, though oft I question thus, I do not know, I do not know.

38

A GALAXY Of SOUTHERN HEROES

Beneath my own fair sunny skies, Beyond my native land,
'Neath alien stars, in lands afar, Beyond old ocean's strand,
I* ve sought to learn what might be known Of God's most holy plan
To purge the world of wickedness And save the soul of man;
But priests and preachers prate of creeds No light can they bestow,
And still in darkness, I confess, I do not know, I do not know.

! i

AND OTHER POEMS.

39

A DREAM-CITY DREAM.*
Near twelve oclock one summer night, At great "Columbian Fair,"
All wearied out, with brain oppressed From viewing wonders there,
I sat me down a while to rest, In a building wondrous grand,
And soon my soul was lulled to sleep By strains from Gilmores band.

I know not just how long I slept, Nor what took place the while,
But there amid that stranger throng With music to beguile,
A stranger lone I fell asleep, And think I must have dreamed,
The music was a medley sweet, Or so at least it seemed.

I heard or dreamed, or dreamed I heard, "Way down on the Swanee," And back in old plantation home
Once more I seemed to be. I heard the darkies happy songs,
And my heart was filled with joy, To be once more amid the scenes
I loved so when a boy.

The rronp of building* comprising the Columbian Fair were called the "Dream City."

40

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HKROBS

Another old familiar strain, While dreaming there I heard,
Sweet "Annie Laurie," and my soul Again with love was stirred.
And by my side I seemed to see My love of days gone by,
And felt that I for her sweet sake, " Would lay me down and die."

A pause, then faintly on my ear The sweet notes seemed to fall,
Of "Home, Sweet Home," that sweetest strain, And dearest, too, of all.
And in my heart a rapture wrought Of peace and joy and love --
A vision bright of all that s dear-- A glimpse of Heaven above.

But hark ! A change: my sleep was broke, My Southern heart was fired
By strains the grandest, sweetest yet That ever God inspired.
Twas " Dixie Land " that on my ear In thrilling raptures fell,
I sprang to feet, threw hat in air, And yelled a " rebel yell! "

AND OTHER POEMS.

41

Three cheers I I cried, for Dixie Land, The land that gave me birth,
Three cheers, and then a "tiger, too," For grandest land on earth.
What recked I then of thousands there Who gazed with scornful eye?
When grand old " Dixie " smote my ear, I had to yell or die.

42

A GALAXY OP SOUTHBRN HEROBS

UNCLE MOSE ON THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN.
I don 't go much on brag an' blow, An' all dat kind er stuff,
But w'en it comes ter w'at I no I gess I noes enuff.
I'se read de Bible tru an' tru, An' Watson's Commontater,
An' wa't I hasn't got from books I'se larned frum common nater.

I'se read er heap er books on law-- On fisic quite er number,
But de Bible am de book ob books -- I '11 tell yer its a hummer.
It tells erbout ole Prodigal An' his two grown-up boys,
Who uster run er cattle ranch Way up in Illinoise.

Now dat ole granger, Prodigal,

Had ways a little quar,

But when it come ter business,

He wus alters far an' squar.

ii.

He neber took ter politics,

Nor seemed to keer er cent

Who wus 'lected Guverner

Nor who was Preserdent.

AND OTHER POEMS.

43

He tended strictly tu his ranch, An' raised er sight er stock;
He wus er hard-shell in belief-- His hed was like er rock.
His younges' son wern't bilt dat way, He wus lazy like an' rude;
lie wudn't plow nor mind de stock, But bad to be er dude.

So one day w'en he met his dad, Way down beside de branch,
He sed: "Ole dad, I want'er cash My interest in de ranch.
In mind I 'se made up w'at I '11 do, I '11 tell you now my plan --
I 'm gwine erway to some big town An' make mysef a man."

De ole man stood awhile, den sed: " I think I see yer game; Like dat ole sockless Kansas chap,
Yer want ter win er name. Well, yer shall hab in solid cash
Yer hones', riteful shere Ob all de lan', de cows an' sheep,
An' ebery ting dat's here."

An' so de ole man went ter town And drawed from out de bank
Enough of gold and silver coin Ter fill er water tank,

44

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

An' fotch it home in leather bags, An' give it ter dat boy,
Who almost cut de pigeon wing, He wus so full ob joy.

Well, dat smart Alec wid his cash Lit out upon de kyars
Ter try his luck in Chicago, Ermong de bulls and bars.
He bought er place in de exchange, An' went it strong on wheat,
An' what he lost he tried ergin Ter make it up on meat.

On cotton nex' he posted up

Ter give dat game er whack,

Hopin' dat he 'd make er deal

An' win his losses back.

\

But fortune didn't seem ter smile

^

Upon him wuth er cent,

i

An* ever' dollar dat he had

'

Ter kiver margins went.



His watch an' chain he nex' put up

.,

Ter raise er final stake,

But lost it on three card monte,

Played by a circus fake.

Now busted flat as he cud be,

Widout a single nick,

He had ter ax his boardin' miss

Ter let him run on tick.

AND OTHER POEMS.

45

But wen er man is out er cash, He s sho ter luse his smile,
An soon his boadin miss foun out Dat he had drapped his pile;
An den she bounced him out ob doors, Ter loaf upon de street,
An nex de free lunch counter man Jist bounced him fer a beat.

Ter steer ergin de vagrant law, An not git floated in,
Wus mo den he cud hope ter do, Widout er home er frien*;
An so he hid hissef all day, Till it was gittin dusk,
Den slipt out ter de slaughter pen An filled hissef on husk.

But second table after hogs Was not sich sumpchus fare
As dat young chap cud git at home, If he wus only dere.
An so he, talkin to hissef, Sed, " I will jist be dum,
Even ef I have ter hop cross-ties, I 11 tu my dad return."

An so he straightway hit de grit Jist lit out fer his home
An twasn t may days before In sight he d fairly come.

46

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROBS

De ole man, lookin' down de road, His wanderin' son espied,
Den run an' fell upon his neck, An' sobbed an' blubbering, cried.

Den takin* him inter de house . Give him his Sunday cote, His bran new boots an' diamon' ring,
An' dressed him like er spote. Fine invitations by him sent
All round de country flew, Invitin' all his frens ter cum
Out ter er barbicue.

He sent out fer his oberseer, An' bid him quickly kill
De fattes* ox upon de ranch, His sons an' frens ter fill.
He sed he didn 't keer er cent Fer w'at de world might say,
He felt so glad ter see his son He 'd celebrate de day.

His udder boy w'at stayed at home -- Young Elder was his name --
Heerd of de racket gwine on An' 'lowed dat he 'd be blame
If he was gwinter stan' sich biz -- It wusn 't far nor squar;
Dat he was jest as good as him, If he hadn 't been no whar.

k ' ]


AND OTHER FORMS.

47

But wen de niggers tole old Prod
Wat Elder had ter say He lef de crowd up at de house
An' hurried right erway Down to de barn whar Elder was,
An' ter dat youngster sed: 1 Yer brudder Is erlive at home,
Aldo we thought him ded."

An' den he went on wid er yarn 'Bout bavin' pleasure most
Ober one old ram's dats foun' Dan ninety-nine not lost,
An' tried ter tafiy up his son Wid chestnut tales like dis,
Dat while he stayed at home an' worked Dat ebery ting was his.

But Elder was as mad as sheol, An* tole his daddy plain
He wasn 't satisfied er bit; Dat he troo sun an' rain
Had stayed at home and done de work De whole long summer troo
An' neber eben got er goat, Much less er barbicue.

48

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

De moral now ter dis yer tale Ter me is bery plain;
Ole Prod ought not ter bin so glad Ter see dat boy ergain,
Fer as he neber was no good, But allers breedin' harm,
He ought not ter bin erlowed Ter come back on dat farm.

AND OTHER POEMS.

49

THE STARS AND BARS.*
The "Stars and Bars" has fallen And will never float again,
But bright on history's pages It will live without a stain.

For, proudest recollections Of great battles fought and won,
And glorious deeds of valor By Southern patriots done,

Embalms in sacred mem'ry That bright banner loved and dear,
To keep through coming ages As the one without a peer.

Twas born of stern oppression And was cradled in the storm,
When retributive justice Rose demanding a reform.

And in the name of liberty It was christened in the blood
Of Patriots, and of Heroes, Flowing then in crimson flood.

And thus endeared to freedom By love's every sacred tie,
Our hearts were rent with anguish When we saw it droop and die.
Written soon after the rarrender of Lee.

50

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

We held it in affection, And rejoiced to see it wave,
We loved the men who bore it, For they were true and brave.

We loved its holy mission, Every hope that it inspired,
And we honor every martyr Who beneath its folds expired.

We reverence, too, its chieftains, Every consecrated name,
Who 'neath that star-wreathed banner Achieved their glorious fame.

But aided not by nations Who beheld it from afar,
Alone it met the tempest On the fiery crest of war.

No nation recognized it, Not an arm was stretched to save,
But men will ne'er forget it -- As the banner of the brave.

But now, alas! 'tis fallen And will proudly float no more,
Our soldiers' tents are folded, And the din of war is o'er.

AND OTHER POEMS.

51

Our cannon throats are silent, Every sword is in its sheath,
Our camps are all deserted Save the silent camps of death.

No sentinel now on duty Doth sweet freedoms watch-word tell
For liberty was ended When that glorious banner fell.

BE CAREFUL HOW YOU TREAD.
In walking through earths verdant fields, Be careful where you tread,
Don "t crush the little flowers While gazing overhead.
The stars I know are brighter far Than flowers that deck the sod,
But both the flowers and the stars Are handiworks of God.
And in the fields of human life, Oft found in humble ways.
The pure in heart, the mild and good Escape our upward gaze,
And in our rush and wild pursuit Of best in social skies,
We sometimes crush a noble heart That heaven itself would prize.

52

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

1NFFT.TCF.
I sometimes wake in the night time, And visions come crowding my brain,
Which burden my soul with sadness, And which I resist but in vain.
The path of my life's long journey, A trail through a desert appears,
Where thorns, the stones and the thistles Are bathed with my blood and my tears.
All along are the wrecks and ruins Of my prospects gone to decay,
Of idols I Ve loved and cherished, All broken and left by the way.
But then, through my tear-dimmed vision, That path trending upward I see,
To a home of rest and pleasure, Where loved ones are waiting for me.
So gathering my remnants of faith, And hugging them close to my breast,
As beggars draw closer their rags When by cold and hunger oppressed,
I look no longer behind me, But my gaze still upward I bend,
Heedless of what I encounter, Resolved to push on to the end.

AND OTHER POBMS.

53

THE VALE OF LOSAHATCHIE.
Oh, the vale of Losahatchie,
How I long to be there now, To bathe my fevered temples
And to cool my aching brow, In the clear and limpid waters
Of the old Colomas spring, And to rest within the shadow,
While the birds above me sing.

I am tired with the tumult Of the citys noisy din;
With the struggle for existence, And the babbling tongues of men,
And I long for that old valley, With its peace and plenty blest,
And to make my home once more In the old parental nest.

No breaking banks could bring dismay In that old valley grand;
With plow I d write my honest checks And drafts on fertile land,
While that great banker, natures God, Whose wealth is seas and main,
Would principal and interest pay Tenfold in golden grain.

54

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

And when old Sol had ploughed his courseAcross the heavenly way,
And old Coloma's mountain top Lit up with golden ray;
How sweet would be my night's repose And undisturbed my dream,
Soothed there by notes of nightingale, And lulled by murmuring stream.

LINES FOR JEFFERSON DAVIS'S ANNIVERSARY.
I have read on history's pages. Penned by poets and by sages, Of the heroes of the ages,
Names which all men revere; But I never yet have read, Of the living or the dead, Of whom it could be said
He was Jeff Davis's peer.
Go search you all the rolls of fame, Go seek you all to find a name So free from every blot of blame --
But your search will be in vain. He was honest, brave and true, No dishonor ever knew; Before the world's review
He passed without a stain.

AND OTHER POEMS.

55

Then let us all now while we may, On this our chieftains natal day Yes, we who with him wore the gray
Sing anthems to his praise. Twas for us he wore the chains, Uncomplaining bore his pains. And while life with us remains
We 11 praise him in our lays.

Long we held him in affection As a type of all perfection, And we trust at resurrection
We 11 meet him on that shore To rest in bliss eternal, In realms of light supernal Where bloody wars infernal
Will be known never more.

56

A GAtAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

SERMON BY UNCLE MOSE.
No. i.
My belubbed cullud brudders, Havin' lef at home my specks,
I '11 hav* ter ax yer pardin' Fer not readin' ob my tex;
But yer '11 fine de inspirasion Ob what I has ter say
In de pistle ob de postle To de church in Africa.

De language ar explicit, An' dis is what it am:
Er man shud git er hustle on An' be not like er clam.
So please ter give attention, An' try ter keep erwake
Whilse I de applicasion Will now attempt ter make.

Now de fust ting I must tell yer, An' I gits it frum my tex,
'Er clam's no good fer dis yer worl', Nor fitten fer de nex:
He 's er lazy, stupid creetur -- Yes, dat 's jess what he am --
An' er man shud git er hustle on. An' be not like er clam.

AND OTHER POEMS.

57

All yer jinin' ob societies, An' marchin' roun' wid flags,
Ain "t at all er gwinter help yer Keep yer familys outer rags,
Fer behine yer grips an signuls, Yer flip-flops and flim-flams,
Dere 's some hustler after nickles In de pockets ob de clams.

All dis talk erbout dem pawn shops, De new sub-treasury scheme,
Is er snare an' er delusion An' an empty-headed dream,
An* yer '11 fine when yer hab waited, Dat its but er trickster's sham;
So yer wants ter git er hustle on, An" be not like er clam.

When de wily politician Comes er' roun' ter get yer vote,
An' vites yer ter de barbicue To eat de roasted shote ;
When he puts his arms er roun' yer An' begs yer take er dram,
Yer had better git er hustle on, An' be not like er clam.

Fer as sho as I 'se er preachin' When de 'lection day is pass,
An' dat politician's 'lected, An' yer craps are in de grass,

58

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

He will scorn yer an' will spurn yer, Fer de fool he knows yer am,
An' yer '11 wish yer'd kept er hustlin' An' been not like er clam.

Er word now in conclusion, While we pass er roun' de hat,
Yer wants ter git er hustle on When we shall cum ter dat.
Let some one grine de organ An' start us up er psalm --
Please, brudders, git er hustle on, An' be not like er clam.

AND OTHER POEMS.

59

A REBELS REVERIE.
I was a rebel and my heart Has never by so slight a pause
As one pulsation foiled to beat With Constance to that sacred cause
For which we of the Sunny South Intrepid stood mid battle flame,
And for which cause we even yet Can speak without a blush of shame.
And yet I know and I admit The fact that men who wore the blue
Were just as honest and as brave As we who differed in our view
With them on questions of the right; Nor will I even now gainsay
That they less just in battle fought Than we who faced them in the fray.

They fought with patriotic love This Union grand to shield and save,
And to uphold their countrys flag The flag which their fore-fathers gave;
Whilst we who wore the Southern gray Sought to maintain state sovereignty,
And fought with all our might and main For home and white supremacy.

60

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

That was Alpha and Omega, The sum total of the story;
Each side was right, and for their cause Won immortal fame and glory;
And when on Appomattoxs field Great Lee and Grant stood hand in hand.
Re-welded was the broken link Of this our Union great and grand.

Nor will I now with needless words Revert to wounds that long have healed;
We staked our all and played our hand Upon the bloody battle field,
And tho by fate doomed to defeat Doomed to behold our banners fall
Whateer we lost this much we gained: A worlds respect that "s worth it all.

And after all who now can say That what is now is not the best,
Since every line is blotted out Twixt North and South, 'twixt East and West?
One nation now, one common flag, One Union that embraces all,
One sisterhood of Sovereign States, One common fate whateer befall.

AND OTHER POBVS.

61

And as we stand united now The sun shines not on fairer land,
Nor land so blessed by natures God, As this our country, great and grand;
Then let Old Glory proudly wave, Oer North and South, oer East and West;
It is the flag our fathers gave The flag by God supremely blessed.

MY MOTHERS HEART.
Tis sweet to feel, whater betide, When friends forsake and foes deride. That one warm heart beats for me still; One heart which only death can chill.
When somber gloom and cares oppress, And bitter griefs my soul distress, Tis solace sweet to feel and know That faithful heart still shares my woe.
It matters not what fate be mine, What star of destiny may shine, Give fate her mood to frown or smile, That heart from me naught can beguile.
For when griefs bitter cup I ve quaffed, And writhed beneath a slandrous shaft, Or by ingratitude been stung, That heart to me hath fondly clung.

62

A GAI.AXT OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

And when upon a bed of pain Consuming fevers burned my brain, And death came near oh, hideous thing That mother was my sheltering wing.

And now whateer be fates decree Of good or bad in store for me, I reck not, but let come what will, Since that fond heart is constant still.

And when I ve done at last with earth, Where claimed by sorrow from my birth, I hope to see Heavens portals part And rest once more on mothers heart.

AND OTHER POBMS.

(>.}

TO MINNIE.
Tho' thy bright smiling face but twice I have met. Its impressions with me I can never forget. It will cling to my mind wherever I be, And keep me, dear girl, ever thinking of thee.

When flying by steam o'er the smooth iron rail, Or cleaving the wave 'neath the white spreading sail. Wherever I roam, on the land or the sea, I '11 be thinking, dear girl, be thinking of thee.

When I view the great mountains eternal with snow, Or traverse dark caverns, earth's surface below, 'Mid whatever scenes, wherever I flee, I '11 be thinking, dear girl, be thinking of thee.

When lightly I trip in the merry quadrille, Or fly in the chase over valley and hill, 'Mid every gay thought, in the height of my glee, I'll be thinking, dear girl, be thinking of thee.

Should fortune e'er bless me and fill from her store My purse and my coffers with bright shining ore, As I count o'er the mass, each piece that I see, I '11 be thinking, dear girl, be thinking of thee.

64

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

But should fate, in a mood, some spite to appease, Lay my form low with destroying disease, I '11 smile in defiance of her saddest decree, And be happy, dear girl, by thinking of thee.

And when all my labors on earth shall be done, And I view the dark shadows of life's setting sun, Like an angel beside me, thy face I will see, And be thinking, dear girl, be thinking of thee.

AND OTHER POEMS.

65

AN EVENING REVERIE.
The sinking sun's last lingering light Has tinged the western sky with gold,
And deepening shades of coming night Now gathering 'round me I behold.

The sweet, refreshing evening breeze About my brow begins to play,
And now I see through yonder trees Bright Jupiter's first twinkling ray.

And while I sit in calm repose, Recalling memories of the past;
Long by-gone days again disclose Sweet scenes of youth too bright to last.

Sweet home, dear place of peace and love, Hallowed by a mother's tread;
To thee in thought I swiftly move, And greet the loved ones that are dead.

Then off again in fancy's flight, To school--the place of youthful joy,
Where merry faces greet my sight, Whom once I loved when yet a boy.

Then on the tented field of Mars, Through battle smoke with rallying cry
Beneath the glorious " Stars and Bars," I strike for Southern liberty.
5

66

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Next with the throttle in my hand, My throbbing locomotive flies
From town to town -- across the land. Like meteor athwart the skies.

Then sitting down by Eula's side I clasp her little hand in mine;
And while the moments swiftly glide, I drink the nectar -- love divine.
Such are the scenes that swiftly pass
Before my fancy in its range, Made dim by "memory's mellowing glass,"
And proving time's eternal change.

But folded be my fancy's wings, That bear me back to scenes of gladness,
For now each scene my bosom wrings With keenest pangs of grief and sadness.

Indulging in a boyish freak -- A wish in other lands to roam,
Now makes my heart grow faint and weak, When e'er I breathe the name of home.

The schoolmates of my boyhood's days, From all save memory have fled,
While many of my friends in gray In camps of death their tents have spread.

AND OTHER POEMS.
And she for whom I would have died, False to her every vow has proved,
And with the scorn of wounded pride I curse the day I ever loved.
But there is one with noble heart Who faithfully to me has stood,
And of my cares hath borne a part, When spurned by those of nearer blood.
Yes, noble girl my Ossie dear, What, though I search the world around,
A heart more true, a face more fair Than thine, sweet girl, can neer be found.
And while my heart beats warm and free, Whatever skies above me bend.
Remember, dear, you have in me A cousin and a faithful friend.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

A WISH.*
I long for the day and I pray for the hour When the cause of the right o'er the wrong shall prevail;
When the South shall have gained the means and the power
To make the foes of her liberty quail.
Yes, I long to hear the cannon's loud peal, And to see once more our banners unfurled;
Whilst the rattle of guns and the clashing of steel Shall announce our cause still alive to the world.
And I long for more leaders like Jackson and Lee, To lead us once more our foemen to meet;
That we by the flash of our sabres may see How to follow the course of their broken retreat.
And I long to see die the last vandal in blue, And to dance to the notes of his funeral knell;
And I long for a hole in the ground to look through, When he joins with all his companions in h--1.
* Written toon alter the surrender, during the ever damnable ocalled reconstruction period.

AND OTHER POEMS.

6V

ALABAMA**
Alabama! Alabama! I am dreaming now of thee,
And I see the trend of thousands Coming from beyond the sea,
As they mount upon the billows, Steaming through the spray and foam,
Wildly joyous at the prospect Of an Alabama home.

And I see within my dreaming Visions of the future cast
That shall overwhelm with brilliance All the glories of the past;
For I see the spirit Progress Hovering oer thee with her wand,
At whose lightest touch responding, Wonders burst on every hand.

She but touches: armies marching Come with axe, with pick and spade,
Felling forests, bridging rivers, Delving out the level grade
That shall be for steaming chariots A double iron-bounded course,
Where the rushing wheels resounding Shake the mountains with their force.

Written about the year 187*.

70

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

Again she strikes, and cities rising Like exhalations from the earth,
Set the mighty world in wonder At their unexpected birth;
And I hear a hum of factories, Blending in a ceaseless roar
Like the sound of ocean billows Breaking on a distant shore.

And I see thy mighty mountains Torn asunder for their wealth,
And I see thy fountains crowded By multitudes in search of health.
And I see thy many rivers Opening out into the sea.
Vessels crowded -- golden freighted-- Foreign tribute brought to thee.

She strikes again: thy vales I see Are waving with rich golden grain,
While fleets within thy harbors wait To bear it o'er the watery main.
And I see thy rocky hill-sides Purpling with the luscious vine,
And I hear the voice of nations
Praising Alabama wine.

But still a brighter scene appears Breaking on my 'raptured eye;
Temples grand and halls of learning Spread the land like stars on high,

AND OTHER POEMS.

71

And from out those halls and temples I mark the hosts that come and go --
Poets, statesmen and commanders Whose fame shall set the world aglow.
And yet once more I see that wand Lifted high, the land to smite,
While superstition's saints and devils Take their everlasting flight.
The wand descends: a shock I feel, A mist comes over all I see,
My sleep is broke and all my dream Has been of " what is yet to be."

72

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

GEORGIA.
Hail! my native Georgia! Fair are thy sunny skies,
Thy mountains grand on every hand In splendor round me rise;
And down thy fertile valleys fair Bright sparkling streamlets flow,
Whilst flowers rare prefume the air And set thy hills aglow.

Great empire of the South, Ofallthou art the best,
For every toil upon thy soil Returns a bounty blest.
Thy every mound and every hill A wealth of minerals hold,
Which waits but skill, the pick and drill, Bright treasures to unfold.

Thy rivers at their source Flow forth from beds of gold,
And down the land through valleys grand They sweep in billows bold,
And on their waves thy commerce great Finds exit to the sea,
And nations all, both great and small, Pay tribute unto thee.

AND OTHER POEMS.

73

Thy sons in war are true and brave, In peace thy virtues glow;
No traitor's name nor coward's shame Doth thy proud records show,
But thy bright star on freedom's flag, As luminous as at birth.
Will ever shine with light divine Whilst freedom dwells on earth.

Thou art a land of happy homes, Where peace and pleasure reigns;
Thy pretty girls, earth's treasure-pearls, Make famous thy domains.
Thou art indeed supremely blest By nature's thousand charms;
Great mines of wealth and founts of health Thou claspest in thine arms.

And thou hast many mountains grand, And valleys fair to see,
And heaven's sun ne'er shone upon A fairer land than thee;
And as thy wandering son returns, Resolved no more to roam,
He lifts his song in measure strong To praise his native home.

74

A GALAXY OK SOUTHERN HEROES

SPEECH OF UNCLE MOSE.
My frien's and cullud citizens, I'm er gwine ter make er speech,
An' I want ter hab de 'tention Ob all in hearin' reach.
My words are nuts ob wizdum, Shucked clean ob all de hulls,
An' I hope dey'll find a lodgement In de hollers ob yer skulls.

Dis am de white man's country, An' dat nigger am er fool
Who thinks de white folks gwinter Low de culled folks ter rule;
For de Massachusetts Yankee An' de Southern Democrat
Am united same as brudders On de politix ob dat.

You may shout yerself plum outer breff, And cut yer biggest figers,
A whoopin' fer dem candidates Who say dey love de niggers;
But you write it down with charcoal An' jes keep it fer a rule,
You '11 never gain by politix Forty acres and er mule.

AND OTHER POBMS.

75

When Marse Lincum giv' us freedom, 'Twant no freedom fur ter steal,
But to earn an hones' libbin' By a grubbin' in de fiel',
An' when dat proclamation Old hones' Abram wrote
He nebber thought a nigger Would git rich upon his vote.

And now I wants ter 'vise yer, While er talkin' on dat line,
You better quit yo politix And de granger's party jine;
Den you can eat yer chickens, Thout ketchin' 'em at night,
An' when yer see a p'liceman Won 't be trembling at de sight.

A word now in conclusion, To you upper crusty coons,
With yo' fancy walkin' canes, An' yer striped pantaloons;
You better git yerselves ter work, An' stop yo' braggin' sass,
'Fore some white man's cungeration Lays you out below de grass.

76

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

THE DEATH OF WILLIAM McKINLEY.
Dead, dead! The spirit now has fled. Cold on its bier the pulseless clay
Unconscious lies in dreamless rest, To wake no more till that great day,
When God shall bid all sleepers rise, To stand before His mighty throne,
There face to face in judgment seat, To know their God as they are known.

Till then, kind husband, rest in sleep, From thy fair brow death's chilling dew
Is warmed away by farewell kiss Of constant wife so loving true.
Closed be those eyes, forever closed, Who's light was wont but to portray
The genial heart and friendly soul Of him who sleeps, alas, for aye.

But whilst untimely thou must sleep,

Cast down by vile assassin's hand,

Thy name around the world shall sweep -- Thy praise be sung in every land,

1

Thy glorious deeds examples be,

For all who yet on earth may dwell,

Thy brilliant fame still brighter grow,

Till time with earth shall bid farewell.

AND OTHER POEMS.

77

Yes, sleep on, veteran, take thy rest; No war alarms thy sleep shall break,
Thy faithful sword in honors decked, Thy glory and thy fame bespeak,
No spoils of war nor trophies rich From conquered foe was ever wrung,
More grand than that, which thou hast gained Just praise from every Southern tongue.

Sleep, glorious ruler, gently sleep, Tby last great pageant ends in gloom,
Half-masted droops a million flags, Whilst thou art borne to waiting tomb;
Throughout the world all nations mourn And yield their plenteous tears in vain,
In grief sincere, well may they weep, They neer will see thy like again.

Till Judgment Day, great spirit sleep In deaths profound, unbroken rest,
Thy native earth thy dust shall keep, Thy name survive, by country blest,
Whilst onward rolling years go by Thy lustrous fame with time increase,
The grandeur of thy work remain, Till time on earth itself shall cease.

78

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Then mighty soul from grave arise, Come forth unawed to meet thy God,
Thy duty done, thy people's prayers Shall pave the way for thy reward --
A place on high with ceaseless joys, Eternal with unchanging love--
With all that's pure and best of earth Be thine a home with God above.

FAITH.
Beyond the golden sunset Of life's departing day
I see a star ascending With ever bright'ning ray;
. Transcendent in its beauty, For faith has made it known,
The beacon of my Maker To lead me to His throne.
And, arching o'er the heavens, The bow of peace I see,
And in it read the promise Which God hath made to me;
For I have had the deluge Of sin's repentant tears,
And I rest upon Moriah, Where the cross of Christ appears.

AND OTHER POEMS.

79

DONT IT SORTER LOOK THAT WAY?
When you see a fancy feller Loafing round upon the streets,
Allers smoking cigarettes, And hobnobin with dead-beats;
While his mother does his washing, For which he doesn t pay;
You would take him for a dude Don t it sorter look that way ?

An* when he gets ter fishin Or keeps a pinter dog,
He can tell a lie as easy As fallin off a log;
Or if he doesn t fabricate His imaginations play
Er mounts ter bout the same Don t it sorter look that way ?

And when you go to meetin, An set down in er pew,
An er gal with monster hat Shuts the preacher out from view,
Don t you feel more like cussin Than you do to kneel and pray;
Now really, if you dont, Dont you sorter feel that way ?

80

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

An' when 'lection time s approachin' An' er feller comes er round
Er bowin' an er scrapin', An' er talkin' so profoun' --
Uv the "conflicts of opinion," An' the "crisis uv the day,"
He's er hankerin' fer office -- Don't it sorter look that way ?

An' I needn 't ter remind you That the time has got here when
The finances uv er man Hides er mighty heap uv sin ;
For if he's got the ducats He can kill and he can slay,
An' the jury will excuse him -- Don 't it sorter look that way ?

But should you hear a lawyer Runnin* other lawyers down,
An* er wearing of er swagger, As if he run the town;
You may bet your bottom dollar He 's a jackleg every way,
Or er petifogin' shyster -- Don 't it sorter look that way?

AND OTHER POEMS.

81

An' when you hear a feller, As yer can most any time,
Abusin' some po' doctor, An' accusin' him of crime,
You may swear he owes fur physic An' don 't intend ter pay,
For it allers seems ter happen That it s sorter that er way.

An' the man that reads er paper Fur er year er even more,
An' writes ter stop its comin' Thout settlin' up his score,
He's er dead beat an' er scoundrel Who means ter beat his way,
An' the devil's gwine ter get him, Don t it sorter look that way ?

82

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

TIME.
Roll on, roll on, eternal time! All nature bows to thee,
The mountains and the hills sublime, The rivers and the sea
Shall mingle in one common wreck, And earth shall pass away,
Ere thou thy wasting course shall check, Or thy destructions stay.
Coeval with the God-head born, Coeval with his reign,
All human fame thou laugh'st to scorn, All monuments disdain;
Thou see'st nations rise and fall, And empires cease to be;
O'er burned out worlds thou spread'st a pall Of darkness under thee.
Go, puerile man, nor deign to boast Thy strength or high estate ;
Suns, moons and stars in darkness lost By time's ordaining fate,
Shall leave a black and empty void, Where once they bright revolved ;
And all that is shall be destroyed Ere time shall be dissolved.

AND OTHER POEMS.

83

THE DEATH OF JEFFERSON DAVE.*

The grand old hero sleeps at last,

His lifes long march is done;

The grim night-watch his post has past

.. v

And left him all alone.

i-.

No wars wild notes shall wake him more,

No tyrants hand shall harm;

In bivouac of death he sleeps

Secure from all alarm.

No royal crown eer pressed his brow, Tho kingliest he of men,
And, tho in death he slumbers now, Tis not for tongue or pen
To add unto the chaplets green Which fame for him has wove;
A patriot true without a stain A man that gods might love.

His glorious sword, long laid aside, Is rusting in decay;
His noble voice in halls of state Is silenced now for aye;
But historys muse, with flaming pen, When writing Daviss name,
Will leave on times eternal scroll The brightest gem of fame.
* Written on hearing of hU demlM.

84

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

SHALL I FORGET?
Shall I forget sweet Dora's face? A face so dear in days gone by,
Shall I forget her winsome grace, The brilliance of her jet black eye ?
No, whilst my memory keeps its throne, I '11 curse the day when first we met,
And though my heart's as cold as stone, Her beauty I can ne'er forget.

From land to land, from sea to sea, I Ve fled without an aim in view,
But like a dream, where e'er I flee, Her haunting face my steps pursue;
Her words of scorn and cold disdain Within my heart are rankling yet,
And though I struggle, 'tis in vain, Her lovely face I '11 ne'er forget.

But I will riot attach a blame To one of such transcendent charms;
For heaven itself would blush with shame To see such beauty in my arms.
'Twas fate that taught my youthful heart, Its love upon such charms to set,
But fate can never teach the art To change from love and then forget.

AND OTHER POEMS.

85

Then marvel not that on my brow The clouds of grief and sorrow rest,
For love can make the strongest bow, When that love remains unblest;
Yes, darker than the shades of hell, Is love that lingers in regret,
No light can eer its gloom dispel; It never, never can forget.

86

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROES

THE EVENING PRAYER.
'Twas grandma taught our little girl, Our four-year darling May, Her "Now I lay me down to sleep," On bended knee to pray, " If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take; " And then to close the evening prayer, Would have her add thereto: '' God bless my Grandma Smith, Grandpa Smith and Uncle Joe, My Grandpa White and Grandma White. And (other names) good-night."
One evening at her grandma's knee, When tired out with play, The little darling bowed her head Her evening prayer to say, She finished out the little rhymes, And blessings then began, With " Damma Smith and Dampa White, And Dampa Smith," and here the light Shut out by drooping Hds, She added in her innocence, (Without thought of fun or jokes), '' Dam -- dam -- and all my dam tinfolks."

AND OTHER POEMS.

87

THE FLAG AND HARP OF ERIN.
Written for the occasion and read before the Robert Emmett Club, March 5, 1895.
(Dedicated In reverence, and with affection to the memory of Rev. Father A. J. Ryan, our Sonths beloved, patriotic poet priest, whose sweet and soul-inspiring-songs shall ever shed a halo of glory over that "Fallen Banner" of my Southland, which like the "Flag of Erin, represents those sublime principles ever enshrined in the hearts of all true lovers of "Truth, Justice and Liberty," and which, heaven-born, will never die
While suns and moons resplendent roll A nd God regards a patriots soul.>
Sons of old Erin, grand is the story Which history tells of your land and her glory ; But the bright star resplendent that beams on her crest Is the name of her Emmett her brightest and best.

A martyr of freedom, he sleeps with the dead, But his name, never dying, will eternally shed A lustre of glory on the land of his birth, And his fame be undimmed by any of earth.

For his country he lived, for his country he died, And wherever on earth true patriots abide His praise will be sung and his glorious name Will shine like a star in the temple of fame.

Yes, grand is the story of your land in the past, But brighter and grander twill be at the last, For a "Washington " yet for your country will rise And the sunburst of freedom shall brighten her skies.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Yea, thousands of hearts are panting to-day For a leader to rise and lead them away Across the wide sea to their own native isle, There to sweep from her shores the foes who defile.
And the God of all justice on heaven's high throne A leader will send and a way will make known By which your "green flag" shall in triumph yet
wave O'er your ocean-bound isle, the land of the brave.
Then grasp Erin's flag, unfurl it once more; Let it float to the breeze as it floated of yore In the land of your fathers, so blessed by your God Ere the foot of a tyrant had sullied its sod.
Yea, bring it forth now! Let it float for a day, In the sunlight of heaven its colors display, For down through the ages with centuries old It comes without stain on its green and its gold.

Uprear it aloft! yes, spread it on high, That the saints whom ye love, looking down from
the sky To this bright land of freedom -- the land of its
friends -- May send it their blessings on the heaven-lent winds.

What tho' the old flag for ages exiled,

j

A stranger 'mid strangers, by tyrants reviled,

Is forced yet awhile an outcast to rove

j

By the grace of your God that flag shall yet prove

AND OTHER POEMS.

89

" A pillar of fire " to lead you again To the home of your fathers, your rights to regain; Then woe to the tyrants who stand in your way, For vengeance is God's and your wrongs He '11 repay.

Then string ye the harp, attune it again, Let the rapturous notes of your country's refrain Break forth in wild numbers, your hearts to inspire, And with glory resounding, your souls set on fire.

With the heart-burning wrath that patriots feel When stung by disdain and crushed by the heel Of despots who laugh while they rivet the chains And mock with their scorn the fallen one's pains.

Yes, string the old harp, let its music be heard Till the soul of each Celt with emotion is stirred For freedom and justice, for God and the right -- Till shoulder to shoulder they all shall unite

Beneath the old banner so long an exile, And with eyes steady fixed on their evergreen isle, They shall march to its music and bear o 'er the foam The flag of old Erin to its home, sweet home.

90

A GAtAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

THE BALLOT.
On which side are you, my brother ? Tis your ballot that will tell,
And will count for you in Heaven, Or against you deep in hell.

Are you on the side of morals, Of temperance and the right ?
Or are you for the traffic Your fellow-men to blight ?

Are you on the side of Jesus, With love for fellow-man,
Or helping on his ruin, By your aid to whiskey's clan ?

Are you with the weak and helpless, Whom sorrow doth oppress ?
Or do you, by your ballot, Still sanction their distress ?

Are you on the side of safety, For the mother, child and wife?
Or are you for the hellish drink, That causes want and strife ?

Are you for the pure and moral, Who delight in doing good ?
Or for whiskey, rum and riot -- For tears and sighs and blood ?

AXD OTHEK POEMS.

91

Are you for the church and Bible, And God's sweet, holy will ?
Or are you for the wicked laws That license men to kill?

Can you vote the drunkard's ticket ? Then on bended knees, at night
Ask God to bless your ballot, And to keep your vote in sight.

Tint in the awful judgment day, When called before His throne
To receive His final sentence, " You may reap as you have sown."

On which side are you, my brother ? Will you pause awhile and think,
Ere you slight your God and mercy For the devil's fatal drink ?

Whatever be your answer Your vote will surely tell,
And will count for you in Heaven, Or 'gainst you deep in hell.

Yes, God will read the ballots, Each fateful one that's cast;
And those that glorify Him not Your soul will help to blast.

92

A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROHS

THE STARS AND STRIPES.*
Behold the flag, above us raised, Tis freedom's emblem true;
The flag most grand that floats on land Or on the waters blue.
Supremely blest by nature's God, Its stars with glory shine,
And everywhere its folds appear There freedom has a shrine.

See in its stripes the rainbow hues, See in its stars the light,
Which God has lent and gladly sent To make its pathway bright;
And see the heaven-kissing winds Its lovely form embrace,
Whilst clouds in air, I may declare, Seem jealous of its grace.

No despot dares to touch its folds, No nation dare despise ;
Its every star and every bar Ten million patriots prize,
Long may it wave, long may it wave, Above the land and sea,
A beacon bright our hearts to light With love of liberty.
* Written In 1896 on the occasion of unfurling a flag at one of the city public schools.

AND OTHBR POEMS.

93

Let tyrants stand and be dismayed Whene'er that flag they see--
This Union grand was made to stand As long as time shall be;
And in this land of liberty, Made sacred by our dead,
We 've sworn to God their sacred sod No tyrant's foot shall tread.

And while that banner proudly floats, O'er freedom's wide domain,
Let despot's hand or traitor band E'er dare that flag to stain;
We '11 show the nations of the world That we, though late in strife,
That flag will keep on land and deep, Or 'neath it give up life.

Yes, yes! that flag we '11 ever keep, And proudly tell the story
How it was born on freedom's morn To live in endless glory;
And tell of victories grandly won Both on the land and sea,
When storms arose and foreign foes Opposed our liberty.

94

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

No other land 'neath heaven's dome Can match our banner here,
Then give a cheer, long, loud and clear, For freedom's banner dear;
Long may it wave, long may it wave, All praise to it be given,
So bright and fair-beyond compare, The grandest flag 'neath heaven.

AND OTHEK POEMS.

95

SHAME, O MY COUNTRY, SHAME!*
Shame, O my country! bow thy head, Behold what has been done --
The blackest crime that ever stained A land beneath the sun.
Yea, see with loathing and disgust Then turn away thine eyes
From act so foul e 'en fiends of hell With loathing would despise.

Pull down the flag your fathers reared And tear it into shreds;
Let craven Anglo-Saxons now Deign not to raise their heads.
Call down the eagle from on high, With dunghills let him tread,
Since blackamoors and dastard knaves Have shamed your honored dead.

Let day-god from his place on high
Recede and hide his face,
That darkness may come down and shield Our land from such disgrace.
Pluck every star from heaven's dome, Let midnight darkness reign,
Or Phoenix like, let Justice rise,
And wipe away the stain.
These lines were written after reading a newspaper report to the effect that the North Carolina Legislature, which, at the time, hav ing a Republican majority, refused to adjourn In respect to Washington and bees anniversary, but bj resolution agreed to adjourn in respect to Fred Douglas, a negro, who had jnst died.

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES
Where are the men of Mecklenburg, Whose patriotic sires
Were first on North Carolina's heights To kindle freedom's fires?
How have they fallen now so low, What has their pride undone,
That they permit insult so base To Lee and Washington.
And where, oh, tell me where the sons Of that brave Spartan band
Who fought through hells of battle flame, To shield their native land ?
Where are Virginia's sons, oh, where ? I hear the heaven's cry,
That they permit so foul a shame, And strike not, though they die.
And you, ye abolition horde, See of your work the trend --
Black ingrates casting scorn upon The names you should defend.
You now behold the writing plain, Of hand " upon the wall;"
Dishonored, bend and take the cup, Yea, drink the bitter gall.

AND OTHER POEMS.

97

Your true Caucasian blood deny, Your birth-right now disown;
Bow down to serpents and to toads, Too base to worship stone.
Become as slimy, crawling worms, And grovel in the sod;
Too vile and loathsome for a name, Ye damned of God and man.

98

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

.COULD I FORGET?
Could I forget, could I forget One fair false face that haunts me still,
My last few days of waning life Might find some joy my heart to thrill;
And fondly dreaming, as of yore, On scenes of bliss by love made blest,
I 'd calmly drift along life's shore 'Till death's oblivion gave me rest.

But, ah, poor me! while life shall last, While thought and memory keep their throne,
No fond, sweet dream, no wistful hope, Within my breast shall e'er be known;
For disappointment and despair, That came to me long years ago,
Have stamped an impress on my heart, And filled my soul with bitter woe.

And now to me it matters not What course on earth my steps pursue;
No friends I seek, no foes I shun, But knowing death is sure and true,
I bear my lot as I may best, And, longing, wait for that sweet day
When life shall flutter from my breast, And death shall steal my soul away.

AND OTHER POEMS.

9V

RIZPAH.
And RUpah, the daughter of Aiah, took sackcloth and spread it for her npoo the rock, from the beginning of the harrest until water dropped npon them ont of heaTen, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night. ii Samiaff cJkaftcr ", vtrst 10.
On the hills of Gideon, Near Jordan's verdant plain,
By the hand of God's avengers, Were the sons of Rizpah slain;
Their forms, denied sepulture, Were cast upon the rock
And left for wild hyenas And the ravenous vulture flock.

But a mother's constant love Ends not with loved one's breath;
Her constancy and her devotion Still increaseth after death.
And Rizpah, with fidelity, On the rock her sackcloth spread,
And stood alone in mourning To guard her cherished dead.
Throughout the entire season, From the harvest till the rain,
Her sleepless eyes unceasing Kept vigil o'er the slain.
The eagle screamed above her, Wild hyenas came to prowl,
And her heart was often startled By the roaming lion's growl.

100

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HKROES

But with courage never faltering She stood from day to day,
A true, unselfish sentinel Against the beasts of prey.
The sunbeams burned upon her, She bore the night winds chill;
But through day-time and the darkness She was ever faithful still.

The leopard and the tiger, When wandering by the spot,
Beheld her steadfast standing And dared to touch her not.
The hungry wolves came round her, And the lynx with burning eye,
But daunted by her courage, Were made to quail and fly.

And all alone upon the rock, Unrelieved by any friend,
Her long, dark tresses waving And disheveled by the wind,
She kept her faithful vigils Till her weeping eyes were red,
Her sole and only solace A communion with the dead.

AND OTHER POEMS.

101

And all the annals of the world, Since the morning dawn of time,
Affords us no example More heroic and sublime
Than of this poor, mourning mother, Keeping vigils night and day,
To protect her cherished loved ones From the birds and beasts of prey.

102

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

UNCLE MOSE ON INDEPENDENCE DAY.
My frens an* cullud citizens,
Wese ersembled here dis morn To celebrate de casion
Wen liberty wus born ; Wen de young American eagle
Fust busted fum his shell, An* give er whoop fer liberty --
Er reg'lar rebel yell.

Dat wus de grandess' 'casion Dat eber blessd. de earth,
An nations wus astounded At de glory ob his birth,
For neber in de history Ob all de ages past
Wus eber such er nation Fum de molds of wisdom cast.

An I tell yer, fellow citizens, It makes my bosom swell
Wid proudness wen I reads erbout Or hear dem speakers tell
Ob how dat unfledged eagle Girded on de belt ob right
An challenged Englans lion
Ter come out and hab er fight.

AND OTHER POEMS.

103

So strong had grown dat bludy beast, So puff'd up an' so gran',
He thought hissef de champion Ob all de seas an' lan*.
Wid scorn he heard an' look'd upon Dat Yankee bird so small,
An' swore dat he wud chaw him up -- Meat, fedders, bones an' all.

But dat new-hatched-out Yankee bird, Do seeming small an' weak,
Wus hatched wid claws as sharp as steel An' wid er hole-fas' beak;
His eyes wus full ob lightnin' fire, His gizzard full ob grit,
An' like young David wid de sling, He noed jess whar ter hit.

An' too, our Uncle Sam was dere Ter back dat eagle game,
Fer well he knew he cum fum stock Dat tyrants cud not tame;
An' quickly kiverin' ebry bet Dat ole John Bull put down,
He cried w'en dat ole bluff refused Ter bet his thrown an' crown.

But not because he had er use Fer eny such ole plunder,
He only wished to win de stuff Den kick it in ter thunder,

104

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROBS

Dat ebry Englishman might see He did not care er snap
Fer dere ole royal, high-back chair, Nor ole carbuncl'd cap.

At las', in Massachusetts, Dey begun de scrappin' match
While Injuns stood eround an' yell'd Ter see 'em bite an' scratch.
Roun' after roun* dey fit an' claw'd, Returnin* lick for lick,
An* Englan's lion soon found out Dat bird was hard ter pick.

Dey fit all round ole Lexington, An' roun' Dorchester's hight,
An' plum ercross ole Bunker's hill, Still strugglin' in dere might;
Till mad wid pain dat lion's roar Wus echo'd fur an' wide,
Fer ebry time he cum in reach Dat eagle tore his hide.
He pull'd his mane, he twis" his tail, He fill'd his eyes wid san'
Till dat ole lion got so weak Dat he cud hardly stand;
But still de eagle kept his lick Nor seemed de least dismayed,
Fer he was bound dat beast ter lick An' lay him in de shade.

AND OTHER POBMS.

105

But by an* by de sponge went up, Dat lion tuck'd his tail,
An' cross'd de broad Atlantic sea His losses ter bewail.
De eagle bold den spread his wing An* soar'd erway on high
Ter roost ermid de circlin" stars An guard us wid his eye.

An' since de early dawn ob time, Wen de sky its robes unfurl'd,
An' de great quire of Heavenly stars Sung er welcome ter de world ;
Since de day-god in his splendor Fust look'd down fum on high,
Dere has neber been er 'casion Like dat Fourth day of July.

Er word now in conclusion, Ter yer good white folks out dere --
Ef any ob yer has a dime Dat yer can kindly spare,
Er ef yer chance ter hab at home Sum good ole cast off close,
Please 'member yer ole cullud fren, Yer hones' Uncle Mose.

106

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROHS

SOME DAY.
Some day, I know, but know not when, My pulsing heart will cease to beat,
My weary hands will cease their toil; The quick step of my hurrying feet
Will no more echo in my home, Nor loved ones list to hear me come.

Some day, I know, but know not when, The sombre hearse will reach my door,
And friends with muffled tread will come, Whom I, alas! shall see no more,
And bear me off to yonder tomb, And leave me there in silent gloom.

Some day my loved ones, left behind, Will come to where in death I sleep,
And, placing flowers upon my grave, Will linger there awhile to weep --
And breathe for me a silent prayer, But I shall never know them there.

Some day, I know, oh! sad the thought! My friends and loved ones, too, will be
All cold and pulseless in their tombs, And none on earth remembering me
Will ever speak or hear my name, For I must die unknown to fame.

AND OTHER POEMS.

107

Some day the stones that mark my grave, That tell my date of death and birth
Will, too, have crumbled into dust, And not a vestige here on earth
Will then be left to tell the tale That e'er I crossed life's troubled vale.

But far beyond each trembling star, Now twinkling in the heavenly dome,
My soul, released from earthly woes, Shall mount to my eternal home,
Where I shall join the Heavenly choir, And sing the praise of my Messiah.

108

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBBOES

COURAGE AND AMBITION.
Ef I was but er tadpole -- Er tadpole weak and frail--
I wud strive ter be a frog, Do I neber shed my tail.

An' befo' I 'd be a clam, A Hers shet up outer sight,
I wud bust my shell ersunder, Do I perish in de light.

Yes, I rudder be a flyin' squerel, To fly er while and fall,
Dan be er lazy tarepin An' do nothing else but crawl.

An' ef I wusn 't bigger Dan er little yaller ant
I would exercise er courage Equel tu de elephant;

Fer I hold dat it is noble,

An' ercordin' ter God's plan,

Dat man in ebery station

A

Shud prove hissef er man.

]

AND OTHER POEMS.

109

Dat only true nobility Is by hones labor wrought,
An er crown dats wuf de wearin Is by mortal neber bought.

An* I can t but hate er croaker, Wid his weak an watery eyes
Allers turned towards de groun, Neber raised toward de skies;

Who goes erbout complainin An bemoanin ob his fate,
Because he is er ninny Instid ob sumpin* great;

Who neber makes an effort Ter reach er noble bight,
But hides his ebery talent In his bosom outer sight,

An bows in weak submission, Like er cringin yaller houn,
An* licks de hand uplifted Ter strike him ter de groun.

But I glory in de courage My convictions to assert,
An* I 11 strive to be er man, Do I se but made of dirt.

110

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

Per I no de soul widin me Is er libin' part ob God,
An" will lib in spheres eternal When my form has turned to sod.

An' as I lub ter honor Dat God, who in His plan,
Made me in His image, I will strive to be er man.

AND OTHER POEMS.

Ill

YOU ARE MY SWEETHEART YET.
Full many, many years have past,
But, oh, how short they 've been, Since, darling, you were but a girl,
And I but just nineteen. We loved each other, darling, then,
Yea, from the day we met, And now, though we are growing old,
You are my sweetheart yet.

Your little hands you placed in mine, While nestling at my side,
And promised me that you would be My own sweet little bride.
Time swiftly fled, and we were wed, The day I '11 ne 'er forget,
For now, though we are growing old, You are my sweetheart yet.

With faithful hands you 've done your part, To make my burden light,
Have closer clung when cares oppressed And sorrows came to blight;
So now, when silvery threads I see Amid your curls of jet,
To me your charms they but enhance, You are my sweetheart yet.

112

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBKOKS

Though faded are the roses now From your fair damask cheek,
Where little dimples used to romp And play at hide and seek,
Though time has dimmed your lovelit eye, Thank God, this is my tret.
Let come what will, you love me still, You are my sweetheart yet.

CUPIDS AUCTION.
Behold upon the market stand A lovely gem of radiance rare,
With which no pearl of eastern land In point of beauty can compare;
Tis brighter than a diamond far, More lovely than the fairest star, More precious than Arabian gold, Its worth in words can ne er be told.
It hath no duplicate on earth, And Heaven claims no fairer gem
Of perfect cast and peerless worth Than this endearing diadem;
But here it is, and to be sold, For highest price, to young or old, Tis true no small bid will suffice ; Then let us hear the highest price.

AND OTHER POEMS.

113

Deceitful Flattery, first to speak, Now makes an offering fraught with pride,
He compliments the glowing cheek, With raven curls on either side;
Then adds unto with tenderness
A praise of form and style of dress,
And seeks by bid of coxcombs art To gain the prize unto his heart.

Then Beauty, clothed with faultless style, Made offering of his handsome face,
O 'er which there played a sunny smile, And bowed with an artistic grace,
Which seemed to say in language plain, He had no doubt the prize he'd gain; He doubtless thought his face and form Would take the precious gem by storm.

Next pompous Wealth's defiant voice Proclaimed a bid of indolence,
And added gifts of Mammon's choice In part, by way of recompense,
And with base heart and haughty pride Thought other bids to set aside; For gold hath such a charming touch, . Naught else, he thought, avails so much.

114

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Then Intellect, with modest grace, Announced his bid -- a wealth of mind.
And by the beam upon his face, He deemed the prize for him destined;
For who, with privilege to choose, Could such a bid as his refuse; His wit and wisdom, so well known, He thought would make the gem his own.

But Love, all friendless and alone At once upon the scene appears,
And prays to make his offering known; A bid it is of sighs and tears --
A yearning of a constant heart, Whose constancy would ne 'er depart, A manly soul, unknown to fear, A faithful arm to do and dare.

A mind in which he daily nurtures Sweet visions of the gem herself,
Feet which know but paths of virtue, Hands clean of all dishonest pelf;
All these the bid which Love would j>ive; Now tell me shall his bidding thrive ? Oh, if! oh, if! you answer yes, Long will I Cupid's auction bless.

AND OTHBR POEMS.

115

TAKE BACK THE LIE!
Line* snfretted on reading a speech by Gen. P r, Commander-inchief of the Grand Army of the Kepnbllc, in which he denounced the Southern Flay as an emblem of treason.
Take back the lie, base, craven wretch, Which thy vile lips have dared to speak,
Such calumny from thy vile tongue, But proves that thou art base as weak;
From coward lips such venom vile, Can only serve to wake disgust
In hearts of all true, noble men, Who loathe such vipers of the dust.

Then take it back, thou snarling cur, Insult not with thy lying breath
That ensign of a noble host Now tenting in their camps of death;
Nor shouldst thou dare^with lying tongue, To slander men whose dauntless might
Made for that flag a name and place The grandest on fames utmost height.

Thine is the craven^cowards course, Hyena-like that dares to tread,
And with thy foul polluting breath, Profanes the turf that hides our dead ;
No faintest ray, nor spark of truth, Doth to thy lying tongue give pause;
Else hadst thou not. poor, slimy worm, H.ive dared to slander such a cause.

116

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

How worse than fool, thou poltroon knave, To basely lie without a reason --
To let thy lying words imply That our just cause was one of treason.
The banner that thou darest malign Shall live through never-ending glory,
Whilst all such hissing toads as thou Shall be unknown in song or story.

What valiant hero of the blue, Who faced our warriors in the fray,
But knows that only patriots true, E'er fought so valiantly as they;
And knows, too, that no traitor band, In treason's cause was ever fired
To such sublimely daring deeds As our Confederate hosts inspired.

Then hush, yea, hush thy putrid mouth, Go kill thyself, thy meed to gain; .
Less sinned had Ananias, when God numbered him among the slain;
Nor such a crime since Judas's sin Hath ever damned with such just reason,
As that thou laidst upon thy soul In that foul, lying charge of Treason.

AND OTHER POEMS.

117

MAN WAS MADE FOR WOE.
Go search the world from pole to pole,
And vie MT mankiqd in every state; You '11 never find a living soul --
What 'er his land, what 'er his fate -- Who has not felt within his breast
The tides of sorrow ebb and flow, And has not felt, when care oppress'd,
That mortal man was made for woe.

The loving swain in lonely bower In fondness burns with passion's flame;
Each budding bloom and blushing flower Reminds him of his cherished dame.
But, when a few short years have fled His youthful cheek has lost its glow,
In tears of disappointment shed, He learns that man was made for woe.

And he, the pampered man of pride, With hoarded wealth of precious ore,
With teeming acres, broad and wide, Who daily scorns the weak and poor,
Will, when his frame with age is bent, And every step's a painful throe,
In his cold heart his pride repent, And murmur, "man was made for woe."

118

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

The royal king and lord of state, Flushed with men's homage and with fame,
May for a while forget that fate Has made all human kind the same;
But, 'ere for them life's sun shall sink, A Marah's draught for them must flow,
And, as they quaff the bitter drink, Must learn that man was made for woe.

Vain is the Bacchanalian cup, And vain is worldly wealth and fame ;
The cup of sorrow all must sup, In differing phase, but all the same.
For some must burn 'neath tropic sun, Some perish in the arctic snow,
And some have treasures, some have none, But all must have some bitter woe.

Such is the destiny of man, And it is just as we shall find,
A part of the Creator's plan To teach us to be good and kind,
To succor those who need our care, And to withhold each cruel blow ;
For as we share a brother's care So shall we lessen our woe.

AND OTHBR POEMS.

119

SERMON BY UNCLE MOSE.
. No. 2.
My belubbed cullud brudders, Ize gwine ter preach ter day,
An* I hopes ter hab attention Ter what Ise gwine ter say.
I know dere's room for 'provement In ebery sinner's hart,
An' my reason fur so thinkin' I will now to you impart.

First, de selfishness ob nater Keeps de hart from gitten clean;
It blinds de eyes of conscience, An' makes us over-mean;
It puts er man ter thinkin' Oat he's better dan de best,
An' like a tyrant robber, Steals de goodness from his breast.

An' den dere is er kind er pride Dat steals into de brain
An' robs er man ob reason, An* makes him weak an* vain;
An' when er man has got it, He is saddled mity well
Fur de debil den ter mount him An' ter ride him down ter hell.

120

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Den dere's anudder passion, An* de Scripter calls it lust,
An' if any ob you'se got it You is hardly fit ter trust.
Tis de pizen ob de sarpent, So polutin' ter de soul,
Dat de meanness ob its venom De debil would extole.

An' den de sin ob appetite, Since ob dat I cum ter think,
It's de debil's own invension When it leads er man ter drink;
It destroys all his conscience, Puts er blind upon his eyes
An' empties him ob character, An' fills him up wid lies.

A word now in conclusion Ob what Ise got ter say,
A preacher cannot lib on wind, He orter hab his pay.
So while you hunt yer nickles An' we pass eround de hat,
Please see dey isn 't counterfits, Be sho you look ter dat.

AND OTHER POEMS.

121

THE RATIONALE OF SIN.
(A reply to RCT. F. J. E.s " First Caatt of Woe.")
How long shall the fables Of mythology last,
Defaming Jehovah And his glories o 'ercast ?
O, dark superstition! Thou shadow of night,
How long wilt thou linger. Man's reason to blight ?
How long shall the falsehood That a snake of the sod
By men be acknowledged As more subtle than God ?
How long shall the darkness Of ignorance prevail
And the foul tongue of slander God's wisdom assail ?

Did the great living God, Whose hands did create
This world we inhabit, And ten thousand more great,
Whose will is but nature, Supreme of all law,
And whose mind from the first
All the future foresaw,

122

A GAI^XY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Make man pure and holy -- From all sin pure and bright --
And ordain that no sin Should his prospects e' er blight;
Then make a vile serpent And into him instill
The vile power to break And defy his own will ?

Oh, believe it not so -- 'Tis false and untrue --
For God, the all-wise, Would not such folly do.
Yea, God is all wisdom, And when he made man
He made him, no doubt, On a rational plan.
He endowed him with sense, With conscience and might,
And made him free agent, To do wrong or do right;
For without the extremes Of evil and good,
How could he serve God As really he should ?

Had there never been sin From which to abstain,
All conscience and reason Were but attributes vain ;

AND OTHER POEMS.

123

And my conscience and reason, Inherit from birth,
I would not surrender For all fables on earth.
And I '11 tell you just here, As I have told you before,
To God, in our wisdom, We should bow and adore.
Then never, oh never, Defame thy great God
By making him less Than a worm of the sod.

To thee He gave conscience, A heart and a brain,
And thou shouldst not bury Thy talents in vain.
Look around, look aloft, Let your reason be free;
Behold his great works On the land and the sea ;
See mountains and rivers, Volcanoes and seas,
Great oceans and lakes And forests of trees;
Then list to the thunder And the lightning's wild crash;
Hear the roar from the shore Where the tempest waves dash;

124

A GM.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Then turn thy gaze upward To the great arching sky
And view thousands of worlds That bedazzle the eye --
Each rolling in splendor Through infinite space,
Controlled in their movements Or held in their place
By the hands of Jehovah, Whose will they obey,
And whose power and greatness, Can never decay.
Then reflect if you will, And believe, if you can,
That this great supreme God Ever formed him a plan
And had not the will And the power to make
That plan all secure From the lies of the snake.

AND OTHER POEMS.

125

POLICY.
Talk not to me of policy, Of what I should or shouldn t do,
For, steadfast to my conscience, I my course will still pursue.
Let judgment shape my actions And my conscience be my guide,
For I d rather face a frowning world Than yield my manly pride.

My religion and my politics May I never seek to hide;
Let me steer with honest purpose Though I stem against the tide.
And fettered not by policy, By precept nor advice,
I 11 bravely meet my destiny, Though I plunge a precipice.

No, I will not be a puppet To any servile course,
Though bribed by wealth and laurels And urged by tyrant fotce,
But my deep and clear convictions Shall ever serve to sway,
And, with conscience for my shield, Only God will I obey.

126

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Then away with all your policy, 'Tis dissembling and deceit--
A smiling lie upon the lip -- A vain, pretending cheat.
'Tis born of fraud and cowardice, No truth is in its name.
And I 'd rather lose this heart of mine Than to sear it with its shame.

Yes, I loathe and scorn the hypocrite, Whose life's a living lie;
Who smooths his actions and his speech With the oil of policy,
Who stoops to public favor At every beck and nod,
,And brings disgrace upon the form Made in image of my God.

AND OTHER POEMS.

127

SHAMS AND SHACKS.
Mankind is not just what it seems, This world is half made up of shams,
Some men as silent sages pose Who are at best but stupid clams.

Some babbling tongues are never still, Misquoting thoughts of wiser men,
And in their self-esteem suppose That they are what they 've never been.

Some noble hearts as ever beat Pulsate in breasts of rugged mold,
Whilst broadcloth often wraps the knave Whose sins and crimes are never told.

Some glorious poets live and die, And ne'er to wealth and fame are known,
Whilst fools are flattered to the sky For genius that is not their own.

Yes, more than half mankind are fools, Hence knaves and frauds find easy sailing,
To hug a sham and be humbugged Is with the mass a common failing.

I Ve known a rum-besotted quack, High in the healing arts to pass,
Whose intellect was scarce above The instincts of a stupid ass.

128

A GAI.AXV OF SOUTHERN HEROES

And oft a tailless ape we see Whose only brain is brazen cheek,
High-seated on judicial bench To judge the fools who justice seek.

Then sometimes, too, in sacred desk A wolf we find in sheep's attire,
Too cowardly to preach the truth, But preaching hell without a fire.

And so it goes throughout the world, Hypocrisy is ruling still,
A man is boosted going up, And kicked when coming down the hill.

Angelic woman, sweet and pure, When wedded to a worthless clown,
By gravity of social laws, Is to his level anchored down.

But sometimes wilful, wicked wives, Make noblest husbands hump and hustle,
And he 's a fool who thinks to find An angel wrapped with every bustle.

AND OTHER POEMS.

129

COOSA RIVER*
A RBVKRIH.
Roll on, O gentle Coosa,
Thou art dearer far to me Than all the other waters
That flow into the sea. From thy early fountain source,
'Mid the Georgia mountains grand, Down through old Alabama
To the ocean's pearly strand, Thou art peerless in thy beauty,
Thou art ever fair and bright, And everywhere I view thee
There is gladness in the sight.

What memories, sweet and tender, Of my whilom happy days,
Now fill my heart with rapture When 'er on thee I gaze.
Those happy days of boyhood, That can bless me never more,
Which spent with boon companions In sporting on thy shore;
And, oh, what royal pleasure 'Twas to plunge into thy tide
And, like the wild aquatic birds, On the placid bosom glide.

130

A GAI.AXY OP SOUTHBRN HEROES

Ah, well do I remember One blissful summer night,
When moon and stars of heaven Made thy crystal waters bright,
Of floating down thy current, Borne onward by thy tide,
In sweetest little shallop, With fair Inez by my side;
When I told her of my love, As I clasped her to my breast,
And, in answer to my wooing, Heard her love for me confest.

Then again upon thy borders On a lovely day in May,
With flowers blooming 'round us And the birds all singing gay,
How I led off in the dance, With a merry, happy train,
Whirling in a giddy waltz With blithsome Kitty Dane,
The fairest little fairy, To my bosom firmly prest,
And felt her heart responding To the throbbing in my breast.

AND OTHER POEMS.

131

Then neath the beech and maples That shade thy grassy shore,
Near the village of Coloma, In the halcyon days of yore,
Where I was wont to wonder To view thy lovely sheen,
Hand in hand with pretty Lizzie, The little village queen,
And with her there to angle, With hooks oft baited not,
All forgetful of the fishing, So contented with our lot.

Then drifting, gently drifting, Adown thy placid stream,
Borne onward to Aurora In my retrospective dream,
I meet once more the loved ones, Both friends and kindred dear,
And view once more the prospect That was wont my heart to cheer,
And see once more around me Those winsome girls and boys
Who made that humble village The sweet Eden of my joys.

132

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

But roll on, noble river, My retrospect is vain,
Whilst thou shalt flow forever, I shall never feel again
The rapture and the ecstacy, And charms without alloy,
That blest me in those sunny days When I was yet a boy,
Sporting on thy bosom, And romping on thy shore,
With precious friends and loved ones,
In those happy days of yore.

J

AND OTHER POEMS.

-

133

A SPRING CANT-OH.
I do not claim to be a saint, Filled with amazing grace,
Nor boast of sanctifying love For all the human race:
But like most other mortals be That's born for wearing pants,
I am full to overflowing With a great many can 'ts.

I can 't help feeling when I sit In the temple of the Lord
And listen to a preacher's tongue, Whose every studied word
Is meant to gain a compliment From some dudine in her pew,
That he 's a sorter hypocrite; I can 't, oh, can you ?

And when I pay my dollar cash For a seat in the parquet,
And go with great anxiety To hear and see the play,
And have to sit behind a hat That hides the stage from view,
1 can 't help feeling cross as sin; I can 't, oh, can you ?

134

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROES

And when I hear a fellow pray, " Lord let Thy kingdom come," And see him straightway cast his vote
For the licensed sale of rum, I guess he means just what he prays
And votes to prove it true. But somehow I can 't see the point;
I can ft, oh, can you ?

And when I 'm told the human race Is all from Adam's seed,
That kinkey-headed coons and I Are from one common breed.
I think that apes and darn baboons Must be my brothers, too;
But then I can 't believe the tale; I can 't, oh, can you ?

'Tis said that wicked Birmingham Is not a friend to grace;
That every dweller in its bounds Is heading for that place
Where water-works are never known And ice supplies are scant;
But I don 't think it's wholly true, I can't, oh, I can 't.

J

AND OTHER POEMS.

135

I m also told that demagogues Have caught the hayseed vote;
Are piloting and steering, too, The new Alliance boat;
That they are going to take the earth And everything in view,
But I don t hardly think they will; I cant, oh, can you ?

136

A GALAXV OF SOUTHERN HEROES

CLEOPATRA.
AN IMITATION.
Like the glorious lotus blossoms, Drifting on the placid Nile,
My spirit soon on Charon's stream Shall swiftly glide from portals vile.
Iris! Charmian ! heed me quickly:Twine my tresses o'er my brow,
Bring my crown and robe me swiftly, Antony awaits me now.

From the throne of realms supernal, Where forever he must reign,
Antony, my noble hero, Calls me to his arms again.
Robe me as befits my station, Scent me with the fragrant balm,
Fill with wine my silver chalice, My poor weary heart to calm.

Over Egypt's plains and deserts Caesar's triumph shall be vain;
Antony, to mock his victory, With his sword himself hath slain,
And Cleopatra's pride unbending, Spurns his captive queen to be --
Nurtured" on the throne of freedom, Egypt's queen will e'er be free.

AND OTHER POEMS.

1

What to me is fame and glory, What to me is crown or throne,
Since my glorious lord and lover On Angel Argus' wings hath flown.
Oh, the thought! I can not bear it! In dreams I hearken to his call,
And, waking meet not his caresses; My soul is turned to bitter gall.

See how firm and true my courage, To my breast I press the asp,
And, remembering thee, my lover, Smile upon his deadly clasp.
Swiftly now the subtle poison Wends its way through every vein ;
Noble hero, demi-Atlas, I will soon be thine again.

Though thy wrecked and shattered galleys Strew the beech on Actium's shore,
Though thy eagle-crested warriors '' Bear thy banners high no more ";
Though thy fame of rising splendor O'er the world no more may shine,
Thou hast won a grander victory --
Cleopatra's heart is thine.

'Twas for thy "Star-eyed Egyptian" Thou didst fling a world away --
Fame and glory, throne and power. Bartered for her love a day?

138

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Thou, the mighty, great triumvir Whom great Caesar feared to meet,
Rome beheld an humble subject Suppliant at a woman's feet.

But think not of thy fair Octavia Weeping in her widowed home,
For 'twas God our loves united, Not the shallow forms of Rome,
And it may be in the future, Touched by Time's soft, soothing art,
The blow will be by her forgotten And love again revive her heart.

"Though the world for this condemn thee," Thou wert grand to spurn its hate;
God ne'er made thy matchless passion But to find in me its mate.
And I, too, can face its frowning, Gladly on thy breast to lie,
And, when sable death divides us, Gladly for thy love to die.

Let my courage prove my passion Whilst the asp now drains my breath,
And, with crown and queenly vesture, I dare to follow thee in death.
Haste to meet me at the river, Haste! oh, haste! to meet thy bride,
Stretch thine arms and guide me safely O'er the dark and chilling tide.

AND OTHER POEMS.

139

Dim and dark grows all around me. Sense and sight are failing fast;
Never love like mine was fettered -- Death shall free me now at last
Hark! I grope in Stygian darkness; Come, fair Iris, bear me home.
Anthony! my love, my hero, Stretch thine arms, I come! I come!

140

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEHOBS

THE DEATH OF CHEATHAM.
The grand old soldier, Cheatham, Sat dying in his chair,
And visions of the fitful past Came crowding on him there.

He saw once more the legions And clans of mustering men,
And heard once more the tumult Of war's wild, furious din.

He heard the trump and the cannon's roar, The musket's deadly rattle:
The saber's clash, the yells and groans And rush of men in battle.

He saw the rising clouds of smoke, He heard the war-steeds neigh.
And sniffed upon the sulphurous breeze The distant, deadly fray.

And then he heard the double-quick Of soldiers hurrying by,
And saw, perchance, his battle flag Borne bravely still on high.

And as he seemed to hear and see Once more the battle storm,
And felt within his aged veins His life-blood mounting warm.

AND OTHER POEMS.

141

There woke within his martial breast Once more the kindling flame
That nerves the patriot's heart and hand To daring deeds of fame.

His chivalrous soul unyielding then To sickness and to pain,
Broke forth in that wild dream of death To lead his troops again.

" Bring me my horse, my horse," he cried, The battle sounding nearer,
" I 'm going to the front," he said. His wife, oh, who can cheer her!

She caught his now fast drooping head, She saw his glazing eye;
He'd gone to join the great command Of hosts beyond the sky.

142

A GAI.AXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

LINES SENT WITH A BOQUET.
Go! ye sweet and gentle flowers, To her, your queen, more fair than ye,
And speak with your celestial powers, And bid her kindly think of me.

With your fair charms entrance her eyes,
And bless her with your sweet perfume; And when in dreaming sleep she lies,
Keep silent vigils in her room.

And if by dreams disturbed in mind In whispers she should speak of me,
Send back your spirits on the wind And tell me what her dreamings be.

And, oh, what rapture 'twill impart,
If she but softly breathe my name; 'Twill cheer my poor, despairing heart,
And soothe my love's consuming flame.

Yes, go, fair messengers so pure,
And speak with all your emblems true; With fragrant charms her heart assure
That I my sacred vows renew.

And if she but interpret right The message that your emblems tell,
'T will make her gentle eyes grow bright, And all her cruel doubts dispel.

AND OTHER POEMS.

143

GORDON.
(Written darlnf his campaign for Governor.)
Ye Southern sons of valiant sires, Ye comrades of the knight,
Whose name your country's heart inspires With glory and delight;
Behold him stand before us all, A hero without stain,
Calling us with honest call, And shall he call in vain ?

Are we to dumb forgetfulness So quickly fallen prey
That all his gallant deeds for us Like dreams have passed away ?
Did he not for us shed his -blood, When souls of men were tried ?
And is there anything too good To be to him denied ?

No, no! thank God, in Southern breasts Ingratitude dwells not;
And he who once our love possest Shall never be forgot.
Old Shenandoah may cease to roll, Virginia's mountains fall;
But Gordon's name on freedom's scroll, No time shall e'er appall.

144

A GAVA.XY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Go mark ye on his martial cheek That glorious diadem,
That doth to us more loudly speak Than all the tongues of men.
He is our Chevalier Bayard, Our more than Marshal Ney;
A patriot praised by every bard, "The right-hand man of Lee."

And see upon the minaret Of fame's eternal height,
His name and fame in glory set To shine forever bright.
Then let us rally round our chief, Our leader grand and great,
Till all his foes are put to grief, And he be chief of state.

AND OTHER POEMS.

145

PEPPER SAUCE.
Times now ain 't like they used to be, There 's change in everything;
Even the dollars of our daddies Have lost their old-time ring.
Our sugar now is mixed with sand, Of paper shoes are made;
There's fraud in measures and in weights, In every line of trade.
The fanner used to own his land And lived on all the best,
But now the merchant owns the farm With its smoke-house in the West.
No mortgage clause was on the notes Which our daddies used to pay,
But now they bind up everything, From crops to dinner tray.

We used to have good, honest laws-- Laws made for honest men,
But now our code's so full of flaws It's hardly worth a pin.

Few honest statesmen can we find, The demagogue now rules,
And everywhere in halls of state We meet with knaves and fools.
10

146

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

With homestead laws they 've gulled the poor, And exemption statutes framed,
'Till thievery they Ve legalized, And justice made ashamed.

The honest poor man's credit's gone, His word ain 't worth a mote,
And now to get his wife a shroud He must sign a mortgage note.

AND OTHER POEMS.

147

THE ARMY OF TEMPERANCE.
The banner of temperance now widely unfurled Gives cheer to the nation and hope to the world. Its bright gleaming folds lend a glow to the sky, And thousands have sworn to support it or die; And whilst the Creator remains on His throne Its fall or dishonor shall never be known. Raised by oppression in the cause of the right, All lovers of justice will 'neath it unite; For wherever the presence of Bacchus hath been Grim death and despair are there to be seen ; Men he has murdered by millions untold, Destroying their souls 'ere their bodies were cold; Bright homes he hath plundered of comfort and
wealth, Made oceans of tears by destruction to health. The kind, loving father has changed to a fiend, The wife from her husband's affections hath weaned, The love of the husband has changed into strife, Both blasting the love and the hopes of his wife. 'Twixt brother and brother raised barriers of hate; The orphan has left unprotected to fate; The widow and children hath robbed of their bread, And left them to perish with hunger -- unfed. Great minds he hath robbed of wisdom and reason, He has bribed the assassin and paid for arch-treason, In the altars of God he hath found himself place, And left there the traces of shame and disgrace.

148

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

Sweet maidenly virtue hath robbed of its prize, And done enough sin to have blackened the skies. Great kingdoms hath conquered, and banners hath
furled, And spotted with graveyards the face of the world, He hath built on the earth the devil a throne, And consigned those to hell whom Heaven should
own. Yes, these are the things which Bacchus hath done, But soon, thanks to God, his dark course will be run. Yes, mark me well now, the bright day's near at
hand When the foul curse of rum shall be swept from the
land; Throughout the wide world, from anear and afar, The armies of temperance are gathering for war. Justice and virtue, truth, honor and right, United with temperance have joined in the fight, And like the swift avalanche gath'ring in force, Overleaping the obstructions that lie in its course; And like the great tides of the ocean in storm, Uprising in might like mountains in form, Will come the grand army with banners all bright To battle for temperance, for God and the right. No loud booming of guns will sound in their wake, For they come not the lives of mortals to take; No steel in their hands will be reddened with blood, No ruins mark places where houses have stood,

AND OTHER PO1JMS.

149

No wails from the widowed and orphaned you '11 hear,
No red mangled corpse will be seen on its bier, No tramping of steed nor wild clashing of steel Will be heard when these armies their presence
reveal; But softly as glides the bright clouds overhead, And silent as voices which speak from the dead, Will come this great army, majestic in might, Bearing down on the wrong, defending the right. No loud beating drums, nor shrill screaming fife, Shall jar on the ear, giving token of strife; But a calmness like that of a lake in a cave And a peace undisturbed as the peace of the grave, Shall reign o'er the land, and the country will seem Like heavenly paradise viewed in a dream. The army is moving and soon will be here, Even now in the distance its columns appear, See, the hovering clouds which have darkened the
sky, Recede and give light as the army draws nigh. Yes, mark you how firmly and grandly doth move This army approaching with banners of love; 'Tis coming, victorious, to claim its dominion, 'Tis the army of temperance--Public Opinion.

150

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

OH, BLESSED BE THE LAND.
Oh, blest be the land, my own native land, The Southland so gracious and fair,
Beneath the broad sky of God's firmament high, There's no other land to compare.

And I '11 sing to-day with soul in my song, For my heart is melting with love,
For the dear old land so glorious and grand, So blessed by Jehovah above.

Not a star that burns in the heavenly dome, But shines with a radiance more rare,
When poising in space above the fair face Of the South so gracious and fair.

No rivers, no vales, no mountains so grand, No manhood so worthy to prize,
Elsewhere can be found in all the world round, As here 'neath our own sunny skies.

And, oh, the sweet charm, the chief of all charms, Which hallows, endears and enshrines
In the hearts of mankind,--thy women refined, The fairest on whom the sun shines.

Then to these virgins, our own vestals fair, Be assigned the duty to keep
Bright glowing the flame of undying fame, Of those for whom we still weep.

AND OTHER POEMS.

151

But I '11 sing not now in my sad refrain, Of wrongs that our country beset,
But lifting my eyes I '11 sing to the skies, Of those whom we '11 never forget.

And oh! that my muse could aid me to sing, With a power potential to prove,
In grandeur of song, the dues that belong, To heroes so worthy of love.

From depths of my heart, with soul in each line, I'd sing in such rapturous strain,
My music would move the angels above, To catch and repeat the refrain.

I'd sing of Davis, our faithful old chief, As noble and pure as ever pressed sod,
Ne'er mortal more grand was born to command, Or to walk in the image of God.

And I'd sing of Lee, the matchless, superb, Of stature and courage sublime,
A model of man, made after God's plan, To endure through ages of time.

O! yes, I would sing as never man sung, In a grand and rapturous song,
The praise of our dead who suffered and bled, And who died opposing the wrong.

152

A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

But alas, my poor muse, too impotent, weak, In me to enkindle the flame
Of heavenly fire, with which to inspire A song half worthy their fame.

Then since I must strive unaided by muse, My harp must in silence remain,
My song be unsung, for never my tongue, Can wake so lofty a strain.

But while on its throne my reason remains, I can but remember the past,
When our glorious braves went down to their graves, Each true to his flag to the last.

Nor can I forget, no never forget, Their struggles heroic thof vain,
How bravely they stood and shed their life's blood, Their own righteous cause to maintain.

But a bard shall yet in the future arise, With genius from God to portray,
In measures sublime, eternal as time, And this of our dead he will say:

That never before nor since on the earth, Have mortals who yearned to be free,
E'er made such a fight for God and the right, As made by the armies of Lee.

AND OTHER POEMS.

153

Joe Johnston, and Hood, great Jackson, and Bragg, John Morgan, brave Pickett, and Hill,
He'll mention by name, and his epic will flame, Till earth with their glory shall thrill.

Of these and a thousand other great names Will the bard most gloriously sing,
And his wondrous song the stars will prolong Till heaven with music shall ring.

And when he shall sing of the rank and file, The bravest that ever had birth,
May God lend him aid, to sing undismayed, Till his song encircles the earth.

Till angels on high shall hear and repeat That song the sweetest in heaven,
Yes, sing and re-sing till heaven shall ring -- Till God's own plaudits be given.

154

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

TO-MORROW.
To-morrow, to-morrow, Alas, for poor me!
1 've been waiting so long The morrow to see
That would bring me surcease From sorrow and care,
And ease my poor heart Of the pain that is there.

But, oh, the to-morrow For which I have sighed,
I fear will ne'er come 'Till the fountains are dried
That now give a vent To my anguish and woe,
For my only nepenthe Is when my tears flow.

All the friendship I Ve known Was sordid and base,
All the love I have sought Was a butter-fly chase;
When the prize I had seized The attraction had fled,
And my poor, hungry heart On emptiness fed.

AND OTHER POEMS.

155

All the hopes of my youth, My castles in air,
Built for the morrow,
So brilliant and fair, Have mouldered in ruins,
Have gone to decay, And to-morrow so bright
Is still far away.

The dream of to-morrow -- How false was the dream --
That to-morrow would come With a bright sunny beam,
Dispelling the shadows That darken my life,
And light up my soul, Now gloomy with strife.

Yea, false was the dream, Each day is the same,
The morning but dawns To rekindle the flame
Of longing for pleasures I never can know,
Then wanes into darkness And leaves me in woe.

156

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

But to-morrow will come, Oh, welcome the day,
When my heart shall be still Beneath the cold clay;
My pulseless, pale hands Across my cold breast,
My soul with its God, My body at rest.

A HUNTER'S WISH.
My former home and friends I 've left, And sought the forest's rugged wild,
Whose primeval grandeur as yet The hand of man hath not defiled;
And though it is 'mid scenes like these That I have always loved to dwell,
And though there's much to please me here, I still have cares I can't dispel.
For when upon the mountain's top I stand with rapt, enchanted gaze,
On lovely scenes which meet my view, Bathed in the distant mellow haze,
Within my heart, so long and sad, I feel a restless, longing care,
For one on whom my soul is set Is not with me the scene to share.

AND OTHER POEMS.

157

And when beside the flowing stream, To Undine's song I bend my ear,
And lightly tread the mossy bank, That sweet, low murmuring song to hear;
Tis then I feel how sad it is To waste upon the listless air
So much of nature's melody, And she not there the song to share.

And when engaged in flying chase, Excitement thrills my panting breast,
And climbing up the mountain's side, I pause awhile to watch and rest,
And see the stag and hounds go by, As if in flight of wild despair,
There comes, amid my wildest thoughts, A wish that she the scene might share.

And when the sable shades of night Have fallen over hills and plains,
Whilst tired nature takes its rest, And deep, unbroken silence reigns,
'Tis then, in gloominess of mind, I think of her so bright and fair,
And from my heart there steals a wish That she my loneliness might share.

158

A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

NOT FOR BREAD ALONE.
(Response to F. I*. Stanton's ' Writing for Bread.")
What, tho' you sit and silent write Amid the still and gloom of night, Where feebly flickers, faintly falls, The lamp's dim light on barren walls ; Bend not in melancholy mood, Nor think of thy surroundings rude, - For every care that haunts thee now, And casts its shadows o'er thy brow, Shall melt like mists and roll away And thou shalt see a brighter day.

But think not that you sit alone; Some glorious muse -- all thine own, Is ever with thee -- with her wand To touch thy pen and guide thy hand And make thine each and every line With inspiration's glories shine, And brightly guild thine every page, Which, brightening with each coming age, Shall yield thee more than bread alone -- Undying fame -- and sculptured stone.

This world is not an empty dream, Howe'er deceptive life may seem ; But rich and wide its fields are spread For those who toil for fame and bread,

AND OTHER POEMS.

159

And love and tenderness and worth, Like flowers that spring from mother earth, Will ever bloom and bud and twine Around the poet's sacred shrine, And thy sweet song, in sadness sung, Shall live when death has stilled thy tongue.

Thy quick'ning breast by misery wrung Has given the charm to songs you've sung; For in thy sad and plaintiff strain, Thou hast but voiced each brother's pain Who daily strives for daily bread And feels, in famished heart unfed, That subtle longing and unrest Which all have felt but ne'er expressed ; And while with you our tears we shed, We '11 give you love as well as bread.

Then rouse thee, brother, raise thy head; Thy path, though not with roses spread, Is not more rough than all must tread Who strive and toil to earn their bread. Alone in labor can be found The priceless boon of great renown; Then mourn not that thy genius bright Must burn apace with lamp at night, For by its pale and flickering flame 'Twill light you on to deathless fame.

160

A GAI.AXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

And when thy pen is laid to rest -- The pen which oft thy hand hath pressed, (With burning heart and aching head-- And thou art numbered with the dead) -- Thy genius then shall claim its meed, Thy soul on food of gods shall feed And thou shalt taste the nectar wine That gods prepare for souls like thine, And in Elysian regions blest Thy soul shall have eternal rest.

AND OTHER POEMS.

161

JEFFERSON DAVIS.*
With love, almost idolatry, I honor and revere
That grand old Southern patriot Who stands without a peer
The grandest chieftain of the age, Tho' clouded by defeat,
The one true heart that never quailed Nor bowed at victor's feet.

His was the noblest, truest hand That e'er held helm of state,
And tho' by war's wild storms oppressed, He bravely met his fate.
Nor prison walls nor victor's chain Could e'er his heart subdue;
To will of God alone he bowed, The truest of the true.

I love him for his constancy, And glory in his fame;
Compared with all his enemies, He puts their best to shame.
He is the grandest, noblest type Of all our chivalry,
And for himself or Winnie's sake " I 'd lay me down and die."
* Written a few years prior to his death. 11

162

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

THERE IS NO GOD. (?)
The fool hath said there is no God, But how should that fool know,
Unless all space he had explored, In nature high and low.
For if there be one spot or space Unknown in worlds or air,
He cannot prove there is no God, For may not God be there?
To know, indeed, there is no God All force that fool must know,
The power that sends the cyclones forth, And hurls the lightning's blow;
For all that he or I can tell, Of whence they had their source,
Amounts to nothing but a guess, And God may be that force.
Then if he knows all space and force, Himself a God must be,
For none but one omniscient Could so much know or see;
And he, indeed, is but a fool Who this great truth denies,
That there is one great living God, For nature proves he lies.

AND OTHER POBMS.

163

WAITING AND DREAMING.
(Written for my ae4 friend, Mr*. B.)
I am waiting, I am dreaming, While the years are rolling by,
And my hairs are whiter turning. And a dimness of my eye
Is all that I am gaining From the swiftly passing years.
Save the shortening of my journey To the bright celestial spheres.

All my labors now are ended, Every task is finished now,
For the stamp of many winters Is imprinted on my brow;
And a-dreaming now I ponder, While the years are flitting by,
Yes, I 'm dreaming of the pleasures Of a home beyond the sky.

Of life's years I 've had full measure, And I 've borne my load of care ;
I have tasted earthly pleasure, And of trouble had my share;
But now I 'm old and feeble, My life's journey soon will cease,
And by day and night I 'm dreaming Of sweet Heaven and its peace.

164

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Many friends have gone before me, Whom I long once more to see;
Many loved ones, too, are waiting There to greet and welcome me;
And while waiting and a-dreaming, As the years are rolling by,
I can almost hear their voices Chanting anthems in the sky.

In the Saviour I have trusted, Who has given me the peace
That the understanding passeth, And my longings doth increase
There to stand within His presence, And be known as I am known;
And a-waiting I am dreaming Of sweet Jesus and His throne.

AND OTHER POEMS.

165

;

I'M IN LOVE WITH TWO GIRLS.

j

I 'm in love with two girls --

,

Now isn *t that queer ?



One's a little brunette,

I

The other's quite fair;

j

They both are so pretty,

J

So sweet and so dear,

!

To say which is dearest,



I can't, I declare.

<

But of this I 'm assured --

j

They dearly love me;

|

Are not the least jealous

(

Wherever I be;

I know they are constant

And true in their love,

And ne'er will forsake me

j

Where ever I rove.

j

I

There are others, I know,

More sweet--debonair,

But in my affection

There 's none to compare

With these little ladies

Of whom I am so fond--

My black-eyed brunette

And rosy-cheeked blonde.

166

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

To say that I loved them But feebly expressed
How deeply abiding Their place in my breast;
And the wealth of the world, In diamonds and pearls,
I would count as but dross Compared to my girls.

And there is another, Of whom I 've not told,
And with whom I 'm in love, As much as of old,
She "s the queen of my soul, The charm of my life --
My little girls' Mamma, -* My own precious wife.

AND OTHER POEMS.

167

IN DUTEOUS LOVE WE GOME AGAIN.
In duteous love we come again With evergreens and brightest blooms,
The purest offering we can bring. To lay upon the hallowed tombs
Of our loved and honored dead, Whose deeds, heroic and sublime,
Shall be our country's greatest pride Through all the years of endless time.

When northern despots came to rob Our country of her liberty,
They flew to arms in her defense, And, shouting loud their battle cry,
Unfurled unto the southern breeze The banner of the triple bars
And rushed to meet the coming foe Like heroes at command of Mars.

And on the wide spread battle field, Like meeting clouds before the storm,
With banners bright and flashing blades, They gathered into battle form,
And, in their fervency of heart, Swore by the Heaven's eternal host
That they would never yield their rights Till tyrants' blood had paid the cost.

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And with their bristling bayonets They met the raging battle blast,
And 'mid the sulphurous clouds of smoke, With which the field was overcast,
Dealt lightning blows for liberty, And poured upon the dusty plain
Their precious life-sustaining blood As freely as mid-summer's rain.

But now the storm of war is past And freedom's flag lies in the dust;
A mock of peace reigns o 'er the land, And the most sacred, solemn trust
That patriot hearts have ever known Is all that we have left to claim --
'Tis but the ashes of our braves And honors of their deathless fame.

But when the muse of history wakes, Released from bonds of prejudice,
She will the grandest story tell Of valorous deeds and sacrifice
That ever graced the page of fame, And glory, bright as Heaven's sun,
Will shed a luster o 'er the land Of Robert Lee and Washington.
And every nation of the world, Where honor's loved and patriots dwell,
Will glorify the martyred dead Who 'neath the Southern banner fell;

AND OTHER POEMS.

169

And bards from every clime will come To where their cherished ashes lie,
And, catching inspiration there, Will waft their praises to the sky.

And nature's God, who rules above, Will bless the tributes which we lay,
With loving hands in tender care, Upon the consecrated clay
Which lies upon the mouldering forms Of as true and faithful band
As ever praised his holy name Or battled for their native land.

And with each year's returning spring We '11 come with flowers and deck the sod
Which marks each hero's resting place; And, lifting up our hearts to God,
Plead by the justness of their cause, For which their noble lives were given,
That we may meet them all at last, Gathered safely into Heaven.

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

SONG BY UNCLE MOSE.
I feel so sad to-night, I don 't know what to do.
My heart hangs heavy in my breast, So I '11 take my old banjo An' I '11 sing er song er two,
Ere I lay my poor weary head to rest.

CHORUS.
De days am sad, de nights am dreer, But death will set me free,
And up on high beyond de sky An angel I will be.

How I have lived so long Since my old o'man died,
I cannot well remember now, But my tears I 've.never dried, Tho' so vainly I have tried,
Since her death cast a shadow o'er my brow^

CHORUS.
De days am sad, de nights am dreer, But death will set me free,
And up on high beyond de sky An angel I will be.

AND OTHER POEMS.

171

No more myself I seem,
Dis world am growing wrong, No flowers roun* my cabin bloom,
Not a bird will sing er song, An de days am sad and long,
Since I laid my old o'man in de toom.

CHORUS.
De days am sad, de nights am dreer, But death will set me free,
And up on high beyond de sky An angel I will be.

My banjo's out of tune, And seems to 've lost its tone,
I, too, am gettin' old and gray, AH my frens am dead and gone, And I 'm left here all alone,
Just to wait and to weep my life away.

CHORUS.
De days ani sad, de nights am dreer, But death will set me free,
And up on high beyond de sky An angel I will be.

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A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

But some ob dese ere nights, When I lay me down to sleep,
I '11 close my eyes to wake no more, Till she for whom I weep Beyond de Jordan deep,
Wakes me up on dat bright and happy shore.

CHORUS.
De days am sad, de nights am dreer, But death will set me free,
And up on high beyond de sky An angel I will be.

AND OTHER POEMS.

173

THE EXILE'S WISH.
When my summons of death shall come, And I must lay me down and die.
I wish to be afar from home, Where not a single weeping eye
Shall look upon my pallid brow And mark the heaving of my breast,
For were my senses then as now, I could not calmly sink to rest.

Nor do I wish in that dread hour The sobs of grieving friends to hear,
And know that 'tis not in my power The sadness from their hearts to cheer;
Nor would I feel upon my cheek The tender touch of loving hand,
Nor list to lips which faltering speak
The glories of a better land.

But rather in some lonely cave, To all the world but me unknown,
Be mine, the exile's unsought grave, Where soothed by the ocean's moan,
Without a tear, without a groan, To end this troubled life of mine
And leave my dust, to man unknown, Where sun or star-rays never shine.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

WOMAN AND THE SNAKE.
RKPI.Y TO RBV. P. J. B.
I hold it true And still maintain
This fact where e 'er I go; That I or you. What e 'er we do
Are heirs to pain and woe.

Old mother Eve, The apple ate,
From the forbidden tree, And I believe Twas to conceive,
And so caused you and me.

We all are here How e 'er it be,
And all must multiply, And all must bear Pain, grief and care,
And in the end must die.

God willed it so, We can't deny,
Or else it ne 'er had been; And thus 'tis so That all our woe
Is not produced by sin.

AND OTHER POBMS.

175

In Eden fair, Ere man was made,
Jehovah's will was law; The tempter's snare And man's despair
God doubtless all foresaw.

And had He not Ordained that Eve
Should of the apple eat, Old Eve, I wot, Had never got
Deceived by such a cheat.
And when you try The fact to screen,
God's word you must forsake, For all must die, Both she and I,
Said God; not so the snake.
And death, you see, Brings pain and woe;
And troubles multiply, And you and me And all we see,
Must suffer, toil and die.
And good or bad, 'Tis all the same,
We can 't amend the law; And whether glad, Or whether mad,
It is no use to jaw.

176

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

NATALITIA.
(Written before marriage, to my wife, on the occasion of her tlzteeuth birthday.)
Just sixteen years have passed away Since precious Lizzie's natal day;
Just sixteen years since Nature's God Looked down from His abode above
Upon this dreary mundane sod And saw it had no queen of love.

Then to an angel by His side He did the task of love confide
To search through all the hosts of heaven And find the brightest seraph there,
That she might to the earth be given To reign as queen of all the fair.

The angel then, with that command, Flew round among the angel band,
And, searching, found a fairy sprite, With raven curls and snowy breast
And rosy cheeks and eyes of light, Which brighter shone than all the rest.

And as no fairer could be found, Around that sprite her arms she wound,
And, spreading forth her wings of white, Flew swiftly down and brought to earth
That little queen--the fairy sprite, And gave to her terrestial birth.

AND OTHER POEMS.

177

And since to earth this queen was born, The ranks of beauty to adorn,
With every year more fair she's grown, 'Till I have vowed that little elf
Shall rule but one, and one alone, And I shall be that one myself.
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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

A PLEA FOR UNITY.
A CAMPAIGN POEM.
Hear me, sons of Alabama! Hear, oh hear my earnest plea!
Cease thy fratricidal warfare, Our nation's eyes are turned on thee.
Let not demagogues and traitors With anarchistic tongues inflame
Thy loyal hearts with madness blind To plunge thy State in gulfs of shame.

Let thy pride of race unite thee; Thy birthright is this godly land;
By God's ordained supremacy Thine is the right to still command.
Then spurn, oh, spurn with bitter scorn The leadership of selfish knaves
Who fain would foist upon us all A rulership of former slaves.

Ye have in times that tried men's souls Displayed your valor and your might,
And borne through fiercest battle storms Old Alabama's banner bright,
And now when threat'ning dangers lurk On every hand and every side,
Oh, will ye, worthy patriots, Let aught your noble ranks divide ?

AND OTHBR POBMS.

179

Our glorious Southland's holy cause A true Caucasian pride inspires
In every true and honest breast Of Alabama's sons and sires;
For come what will of weal or woe, Our destiny must be the same ;
In unity there's honor still -- Division means defeat and shame.

Then curs'd be he whose selfish soul, Groping in its darkened cell,
Would on our State base odium bring-- A degradation worse than h -- 1.
For when rape fiends and radicals Shall grasp once more the reins of state,
God pity helpless women fair, Shield and protect them from their fate!

Then let us all together come, United firm in heart and hand,
And swear by God's eternal love To shield and save our native land.
Yes, swear by God who made the blood Which flows in every white man's veins,
That true to our Caucasian race We '11 loyal stand while life remains.

180

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

OUR SOLDIERS' GRAVES.
(Written In Oak Hill Cemetery, Atlanta. Decoration Day.)
Behold the hosts with solemn tread, As on in silence now they move,
Amid the graves where sleep the dead Who died for this dear land we love.

"Pis not for pride and vain display, That they have sought this hallowed ground,
But love's commands, which they obey, To honor every sacred mound.

See, every hand a garland bears, Of evergreens and sweetest blooms,
Bathed with the heart's sincerest tears, To decorate those hallowed tombs.

The task is one sublimely grand, And all that martyr ever craves,
Or claims of the survivor's hand -- A tribute to their silent graves.

No monument of lettered stone, However high may be its head,
So much of love can e'er make known, As do these tears by beauty shed.

And oh! what more could patriots ask, As they look down from heavenly spheres,
And see performed this grateful task, Their graves o'erstrewn with flowers and tears.

AND OTHER POEMS.

181

A LOVER'S PIQUE.
Fair girl, if thou could'st only know How much of love thou art possessed,
Thou would'st the cruel slights forego, By which my heart's so oft distressed:
Nor would thy lips in cold disdain, E'er with scornful smile reprove me,
Unless 'tis pleasure to give pain To one who cannot help but love thee.

Ne'er would'st that sparkling eye of thine E'er blanch me with its glance of hate,
Nor would'st thou scorn these tears of mine, And bid me curse my bitter fate.
Nay, nay, not so, if thou but 'st knew How helpless I am to control
That flame of love which lit by you, Which day and night consumes my soul.

But pity would with soothing wand Thy. heart to soft impulses move,
And thou who art so proud and grand, Should'st pity my unhappy love.
Repentance, too, within my heart, Should'st fill thy lovely eyes with tears,
And bid thy quivering lips impart Sweet words of solace to mine ears.

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

But go! thy pity I disdain. My manhood's pride is now returning,
For tho' I 've loved so long in vain, The flame at last must cease its burning,
Yes, true, for even whilst I write, Altho' the change has come so late,
My soul's aglow with new-born light, From fires of newly kindled hate.

Yes, go! and be thou cursed or blest, Thy love and pity I disdain,
For now I feel within my breast No more the slightest touch of pain,
Nor would I lose one single breath To yield a sigh of one regret,
But rather would I face my death Than suppliant sue to base coquette.

AND OTHBR POEMS.

183

DYING ABELARD.
Here within this gloomy abbey, Where I came to hide my shame,
I now welcome death's approaches Which must soon my spirit claim.
Years have passed since first I entered, Through this ill-foreboding door.
Casting off the wreaths of laurel, Which in glory once I wore.

And with memories wrought in sorrow, Slowly wearing out my life,
I have prayed the coming summons That should end my bosom's strife.
Even now while sable shadows Darken o'er my glazing eye,
Calmly I receive the warning, Feeling that 'tis sweet to die.

But oh, my faithful Hcloise, To thee my dying spirit flies,
And the past with sorrows laden, In my burning thoughts arise;
And I see thee pure and lovely, As before I brought thee shame,
And I-hear thy earnest pleading, To forsake thee -- for my fame.

184

A. GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

And I see the look of anguish Settle on thy features still,
As when first the curse of passion Triumphed o'er thy virtuous will.
Oh, the memories of that hour; How they cling with keen regret,
Would to God my awful sinning, I could banish or forget.

All my fortune, fame and glory, I relinquished for thy smile,
Smothered was my soul and conscience, By my passion's subtle guile,
And when all too late repenting, I had taken thee, to wife,
Fulbert, in his brutal vengeance, Worse than robbed me of my life.

Hark, methinks I hear thy voice, Yes, oh, yes I I see thy face;
Quick my long neglected idol, Clasp me in thy warm embrace ;
Lay thy hands upon my brow, Whilst those burning lips of thine
Impart once more their latent heat To these frozen lips of mine. ,

AND OTHER POEMS.

185

Alas! 'tis o'er, 'twas but a dream Of my racked and frenzied brain,
And thou,--my own sweet Heloise, I will never see again.
Still and dark is all around me, Soon my breast will cease to swell,
God of mercy shield and keep thee, Sweet Heloise, fare thee well.

THE DUDE.
There 's a fellow in this city And I guess you know him well,
But if not 'tis no pity, For he 's but a fancy swell
Who only lives for pleasure, A life of ease and rest,
And of all his mammy's children, He loves himself the best.
You '11 find him at the races, The party and soiree,
And in the ladies' faces He fondly looks to see
A smiling recognition Of his form so finely drest,
For of all his mammy's children, He loves himself the best.

186

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HKROKS

He drives the finest horses And dances with much grace,
Tho' in his weazen features The monkey you can trace.
He 's a four-ply base-ball critic, At billiards plays with zest,
And of all his mammy's children, He loves himself the best.

But at the ball and picnic This la da da young dude
Gets in his finest antics, His monkey actions rude;
A crank he is on waltzing With a dudine on his breast,
For of all his mammy's children, He loves himself the best.

I guess the God who made him Must have made him for a cause,
But really I 'm too shallow To imagine what it was;
His head I know is empty, No virtue fills his breast,
But of all his mammy's children, He loves himself the best.

. AND OTHER POEMS.

187

BRAVE NICKELL OF KENTUCKY.
All through the day in battle fray Brave Nickell nobly stood,
And when the fight had closed with night And the field was red with blood,
When all had fled except the dead Of his followers on the field,
He stood alone with flashing gun Disdaining still to yield.

Like lightning's crash his carbine's flash Rang out with fearful dread,
And every peal from out his steel Still added to the dead.
Loud bursting shell around him fell And fast the bullets flew,
But, trusting God, he trode the sod, A hero brave and true.

But e'en the best must take their rest, And he must sleep at last.
And ere the dawn of coming morn The tyrants held him fast
His arms they bound and 'round him wound Long cords of strength and power,
And martial Judge, with spiteful grudge, Soon fixed his fatal hour.

188

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Yes, right away he fixed the day. And in the self-same breath,
With demon smile, named Johnson's isle, His place to meet his death.
But not a word or muscle stirred When the sentence struck his ear,
He stood alone, like cast of stone, Unmoved by grief or fear.

And when he stood and calmly viewed The beam and dangling rope,
His manly will with courage still, Unblanched by flight of hope,
Showed from his eyes, without disguise, A heart with pluck imbued--
A soul of flame, which would not tame, Nor be by death subdued.

No friend was there his thoughts to share, No priest with him to pray;
But never man since time began, Met death with less dismay.
To friends in grey he bid them say, When death had closed his eye,
That true to God and native sod, He never feared to die.

AND OTHER POEMS.

189

ADIEU TO "NINETY-FOUR."*
Adieu! adieu! old ninety-four, Your last, last sun is set;
Go take thy place on Stygian shore, Unmounted by one regret.

For though by you we 're nearer brought
To life's fast coming end, You 've brought to none of pleasure aught
And proved to none a friend.

But much of that we 'd won by toil, You 've pilfered in your stay,
And now like some marauding thief By night you steal away.

How many homes all desolate, Their ruin sad to see;
How many orphans left to fate, Old year, are due to thee ?

Your footprints on the shores of time Forever will remain;
But scarce a heart in any clime Will wish you back again.

Then go and be forever gone; All that you promised fair
Hath been withheld, and hopes forlorn Attest how false you were.
Written December 31, 1894, at the dote of centra] hard times.

190

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROBS

Thy dying dirge will fitting seem When gong and clanging bell,
And everything with breath of steam Shall sound thy parting knell.

Then let thy spirit take its flight, Thy pinions quickly spread,
To shores of dark Plutonian night To sleep with ages dead.

Earth's mantle, now of whitest snow, Shall be your winding sheet,
The stars shall funeral tapers glow, The winds thy requiems meet.

Hark! Now I hear the whistles shriek, I hear the clanging bell;
Avaunt! be gone! thy doom they speakFarewell, old year, farewell.

AND OTHER POEMS.

191

THE GIRLS OF SILVER CREEK.
"Pceta nascitur non fit," Some ancient sage or bard has writ, But I was not a poet born, Or if I was, I fve spoilt the horn; At least I 'm no poetic spoon. Or if I am, was pulled too soon; Nor have I climbed Parnassus Mount, Or drunk from Helicon's sweet fount; Nor do I woo the sacred nine To aid me in this task of mine, Nor need I the Pegasus' jade, For theme like mine should claim no aid. I need no Latin, French or Greek To praise the girls of Silver Creek. Their charms alone my pen inspire And lift me from prosaic mire That I must tread when praising men, Or telling facts " that might have been," I '11 drink not e'en the ruby wine To wake within me thoughts divine; But trusting naught for inspiration I '11 write as suits my inclination. Let critics mouth and criticise, Tis critics that I most despise. Fools find it easier faults to find Than their own business ends to mind. But hang it all! this long prelude Is wasting time and does no good.

192

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

So, girls, here goes; know I 'm your friend, I hope to please and not offend. The first of whom I '11 sing is Matt, She 's full of fun and awful fat; Where 'er she goes it's "get out sadness," Make room for fun, good will and gladness. She 'a a sugar lump of sweetest joys, And weighs two hundred avoirdupois. The next is Georgia, her fair sister, A kiss from whom would raise a blister; She 's neat and tidy as a pin, And has a heart that knows no sin. That she's a beauty, bet your life, And would make a man a noble wife. And there is Annie--she 's a daisy, Enough to run a lover crazy. She's young and gentle, sweet and tender, A lovely blonde, graceful, slender; Her lips with ripe twin cherries vie, And roses bow when she goes by. Then Jennie R., the little fairy; Bashful, timid and so wary; To flatter her were just as silly As trying to paint the fairest lily. But what shall I of Julia say? Would I a worthy tribute pay To her kind heart and gen'rous soul, I 'd need the heavens for a scroll; On less of space I could not find Room to praise her heart so kind;

AND OTHER POBMS.

193

But since such space can 't be her meed, The will is given for the deed. And now the next is Etta's name, To wake my soul's poetic flame; And as I clasp my willing pen, To praise this fairy of the glen, My thoughts run wild, my heart beats high, But to flatter her I need not try; Her charms no pen can eulogize, But he who wins her wins a prize. And then there's Ida, whom we so miss, To have her back would give us bliss. Full many hearts will sigh and ache 'Till she returns, for her sweet sake. Nor Lizzie B. will I omit, When praising beauty, worth and wit; For those are graces all her own, And thousands more I can 't make known.
Nor would I here Miss Lula slight, For slighting her would not be right. She's full of goodness, pluck and grit, And knows the rule, "git up and git." I cannot praise her worth too much, The world were better for more just such -- But like the dessert after dinner, As sure as I 'm an honest sinner, I 'vc left the best to be the last, In winding up my rhyme's repast.
13

194

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROB3

'Tis Emma W., she 's a whizzer, A thousand boys would like to squeeze her, For she's so plump, so sweet and fair, Tom I----n sighs to be a bear. But Tom, old boy, you need not sigh, The best of grapes are always high; The sweetest sugar's in hard lumps, And queens are caught by bigger trumps; But sail in, Tom, with all the rest, For he who wins is more than blest.

WE COME ONCE MORE.
We come once more, and with us bring The sweetest flowers of early spring, To decorate the lonely graves Of our loved, departed braves.
'Tis duty's call which we obey, That prompts the tributes which we pay To those who sleep in death's embrace, Who died for honor and their race.
And as we deck each holy mound, We '11 humbly kneel upon the ground, And raise our hearts in prayer to God To bless our patriots' hallowed sod.

AND OTHER POEMS.

195

A WOMAN OF THE TOWN.
Only a fallen woman, Mark the paint upon her cheek,
That hides the faltering blushes Where modesty would speak;
Spurn her from your church's door, Seat her not in sacred pew;
Her soul is steeped in vileness, Let her learn her wrongs to rue.

Bar all your homes against her And spurn her on the street,
Let her ears to scornful hisses Hearken when you chance to meet
She has parted with her virtue, She was tempted and she fell,
And now, with scornful daggers, Help to drive her soul to hell.

Jesus, the dying Saviour, Only shed his precious blood
To pave the way to Heaven
For the virtuous and the good. The unfortunates of passion,
And of man's deceiving lies, Must never hope for pardon
Nor to mount the Christian's skies.

196

A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

If she ask of you for bread, Be sure you give her a stone --
Perhaps 'twill gall her conscience And extort a deeper groan.
Let her feel your pious vengeance, Crush her heart beneath your heel,
And think how Christ will bless you For the spirit you reveal.

Never touch her sinful hand, Nor beside her kneel and pray;
Shut the book of life against her, Let her go her sinful way.
Sting her soul with contumely, Never let to her be known
That Christ has said that the sinless Should be the first to cast a stone.

Oh, you hollow-hearted men, And you, women in your pride,
Behold this fallen outcast While your consciences decide
If you should have forgiveness For all your sinful stains,
While she, poor erring mortal, Must, unpitied, wear her chains.

AND OTHER POEMS.

197

WAITING AND LONGING.
How long seem the days, and what ages the weeks. Since, darling, my lips I last pressed to thy cheeks; And oh! with what longing, what anguish and pain, I wait for the day when I '11 see thee again.

The nights are so long, so lonely without thee; My thoughts and my dreams are ever about thee; Sleep wooes not my lids, tho' tired and weary, Life is a burden, existence is dreary.

In bright gilded halls of pleasure's resort, Where the joyous and gay with companions consort; The laughter there heard and all that I see, O'erwhelms me with sadness and longings for thee.

On the streets when I stroll and join with the throng Of multitudes rushing, hurrying along, All aimless I wander on no mission bent, And naught that I find can bring me content.

Oh, what in this life is worth living for me When thy face and thy form no longer I see, No music can soothe me, no pleasure delight, When thou art not near me my life is a blight.

Then fly ye winged hours and hasten the day That shall bring me surcease from my longing dismay; When the sunshine of love, the smiles of my wife Shall banish the gloom now dark'ning my life.

198

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

GIVE ME FOR A FRIEND.
Give me for a friend The warm-hearted man,
Who dares to do right, Whatever betide;
Whose love-beaming eye Some virtue will scan
In the worst of all those Whom braggarts deride.

I ask not his name, Nor care for his birth;
Whether Gentile or Jew, No need to enquire;
Whether highly in fame, Or lowly of earth
If his heart warmly beats With love-kindled fire.

Yes, give me the man Whose soul-beaming eye
Grows moist with a tear At pity's appeal,
And who to the call Is ready to fly,
And a liberal heart By actions reveal.

AND OTHER POBMS.
Yes, give me the man With carriage erect,
In the lines of whose lips True courage I '11 trace;
Who's slow in a friend A fault to detect,
But ready and quick A foeman to face.
Let him be a true man, From dogmas all freed,
Whose mind is his book, His conscience his guide;
Who deigns not to stoop To priest-ridden creed,
But walks by the light Which God hath supplied.

200

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

LINES FOR THANKSGIVING DAY.
When nature's God with plastic hand, His pencils dip in rainbow dyes
To paint the autumn forest grand, Such rapturous beauty greets mine eyes
That I perforce from pure delight And gratitude to God in Heaven,
For such sublime, entrancing sight Must thanks return for rapture given.

I render thanks for fruitful fields, Snow-banked with fleecy cotton white,
For golden wealth that harvest yields, For fruit and flowers my soul's delight,
Oh! yes, for these rich blessings rare, I bend my head and bless the sod,
While from my lips I breathe a prayer Of gratitude and thanks to God.

And when my wistful gaze I turn To great etherial dome above,
Where astral lamps eternal burn Swung out through God's supernal love
To light me to his home on high, I feel my soul with rapture swell
And winged with prayer thanksgivings fly To Him who doeth all things well.

AND OTHER POEMS.

201

A PHILLIHC ON EXEMPTION LAWS.
It used to be but ain 't so now, that men would pay their debts,
But thinking now of that time past, I sigh with vain regrets,
Protecting laws for scheming knaves, the bill-col lector greets,
But nowhere in our code we find a law against "deadbeats."

Exemption laws, for knaves a shield, the demagogues have made,
Which license gives to every thief who wills to ply his trade.
Our honest tradesmen vainly seek in courts their rights to gain,
Whilst sleek-fed rascals sit and smile to see them seek in vain.

Statutes of anti-garnishment, dishonest men protect, And every poor man's word or note our tradesmen
must reject. For since all the laws have been repealed for creditor's
relief, We dare not credit any man lest he should prove a
thief.

202

A GAI.AXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

But men with millions to invest, in goods to sell on time,
For poor men, spread the mortgage net and seine for every dime.
And they who in their meshes caught, like sheep by shearers tied,
Are oftimes clipped so close for wool, they lose both wool and hide.

But let us all, as honest men, these devilish laws efface,
They foster and encourage theft, our state they do disgrace.
The poor man's credit they impair, the shylock's coffers fill,
And all who advocate such laws, a prison cell should fill.

AND OTHER POEMS.

203

THE WRECK.
'Tis over now, the dream is past, A dream it was--too bright to last;
I know the worst, I feel it all, My last bright hope has fled;
I take the cup and drink the gall, Though tears no more I '11 shed.

Yet, welling up in memory strong, I measure still the awful wrong;
His loving words were, oh, so dear, I blindly followed on,
And now there's naught my heart to cheer, My faith in man is gone.

But oh, unequal and unjust, That he who won my love and trust,
And then betrayed me to my shame, Tho' guiltier far than I,
Escapes the penalties and blame, Whilst I must worse than die.

For I have learned, alas, too late! To mourn my sad and bitter fate;
Have learned in bitter anguish deep How base man is--unjust,
And learned how useless 'tis to weep, When conquered by his lust.

204

A GALAXY OF SOUTHEKN HEROES

But so it is, the die is cast, The past is now forever past;
Nor pleading prayer, nor mints of gold, Nor all my curses vain
Can lift the guilt from off my soul, Nor bring my virtue back again.

Could I alone but bear the shame, And sully not my parent's name,
My bleeding heart should bleed alone, My lips should murmur not,
And I might stifle every groan, And cease to wail my lot.

But when I think that with my fall, My friends, my brothers, sisters, all,
And every kindred link on earth Must share the blighting stain --
Yes, even my babe before its birth -- The thought doth wreck my brain.

Ah, yes, ah, yes, e'en now I feel My vague and wandering senses reel;
Black demons strike and serpents dart And fiends, the blackest, round me yell;
My friends forsake, my heart strings part; Oh, welcome, death and hell.

AND OTHER POEMS.

205

GOOD-BYE.
Impelled by that resistless fate, Which guides me with an iron hand,
I must forsake the scenes of late, To roam again some other land..

For it has ever been my lot 'Mid strangers all my life to roam,
And never find on earth a spot That I may even claim as home.

And knowing not where next I '11 be, I follow on without a fear,
For since these scenes no more I 'II see, There 's nothing else excites a care.

But let me go where 'er I may, There 's not a scene that I '11 forget;
There's not a friend but every day I '11 think of with a sad regret.

*Nebo and Hebron oft will rise In sweet imaginative view,
And looking on the starry skies, My soul will all its hopes renew.

*Round Island, too, and Bethlehem Will in affection ever dwell,
For sacred truths first learned in them Have sunk in memory's deepest cell.

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROBS

And friendly faces that I 've loved, Imprinted on my inmost heart,
Will linger there by time unmoved, And only with my life depart.

There 's Robert L., my noble friend, From whom I part with keenest pain,
For him my love shall never end, Tho' we may never meet again.

Yes, and there is still another-- Dear Thomas S., whose generous heart
Makes me love him like a brother, And grieves my soul that we must part.

And oft when 1 in slumbers lie, My soul, escaping from my breast,
Will back to Minnie swiftly fly, And vigils keep while she's at rest.

But why should I their names repeat, Or let my muse their virtues tell,
When we on earth no more shall meet, So, friends and loved ones, fare ye well.
Nebo. Hebron, Round Island and Bethlehem were names of churches In a county la Alabama,

AND OTHER POEMS.

207

OUR NATION'S SHAME.*
' Belmoat and the Rothschilds (the English syndicate) will protect onr nation's credit."--CarJitU.
I am a freeman and declare Before my God and fellow-man
That rather than I e'er should wear The shackels of that craven clan,
Who bend the knee at Mammon's shrine And stulify our nation's pride,
I would far rather see decline My life's last sun in Lethe's tide.

I love my God and fellow-men, And honor still my country's flag,
I love her every glade and glen, Her every stream and mountain crag;
I love her history and the men Whose hands the stars and stripes unfurled,
And wrought for her a glory then The brightest that has blessed the world.

And I will swear and firmly vow In spite of all that may betide,
That I will never bend, nor bow, Or leaning, veer towards the side
Of that base, venial, bribe-bought man, That Jumbo-Judas of our day,
That chieftain of a cuckoo clan Who would my country's rights betray.
Written during the Mcond term of Clerelaad's administration

208

A GAI.AXY OP SOTJTHBRN HBROBS

No! no! I loathe, I spurn, I hate, With deep disgust my soul is stirred
At very thought of such a fate As on my land has been conferred
By that vile traitor, Shylock's tool, Disgracing now the honored seat
Where Washington was wont to rule When England groveled at his feet.

But now, my God! my countrymen! Behold the shame upon us brought,
Yea, looking, see and tell me when Was e'er before upon us wrought
Such ignominy and disgrace As shames our nation's honor now.
Let Freedom's Goddess hide her face While such disgrace shall stain her brow.

See how has sunk our nation's pride, How mean our independence now
Since England, whom we long defied, Can come and make us humbly bow
And eat the crumbs she deigns to give; Yea, lick her hand as curs might do
And thank our God she lets us live -- Ye gods! the thought doth make me spew.
But out with all such twaddle base, This is the land Columbus gave
And never shall a foreign race Degrade our eighty millions brave;

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209

But true to God and all that's right Old England we will still defy
And in our majesty and might, We '11 rule this land or, fighting, die.

Then down with that arch-traitor bold, And every hireling satellite,
Our nation's honor to uphold Should be each patriot's chief delight.
Down with the English syndicate, Who dares our nation's rights abuse,
And sweep from off our ship of state That craven crew of base " cuckoos."

And glorious, let "Old Glory" still Before all nations proudly wave,
Whilst every mint shall stamp and mill The dollars that our fathers gave.
No English Shylock or Cuckoo* Shall brook the wrathful, rising tide,
For what we would, we dare to do In fostering still our nation's pride.
* Cuckoo, the name facetiously (riven by one wing of the Democratic party to those Democrats who endorsed President Cleveland in his course on the money question.

14
I

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

MY FRIEND.
My friend of to-day is my friend of to-morrow, His joy is my joy, his sorrow my sorrow; Let him be what he will, his acts I approve, For I see not his faults, so great is my love.

I 've known him full long and know him full well, Of his many good traits 'tis needless to tell; But sufficient to me is this above all, He's a friend unto those whom misfortunes befall.

He wears not the symbol of creed or of church, But when charity calls is not found in the lurch, And bearing no trumpet to sound his own praise. His conscience by him is more treasured than bays.

Never daunted by fear, when dangers arise. Nor wearing a mask, his thoughts to disguise: He's a friend to his friends and a foe to his foes, And his actions his noble impulses disclose.

He is rich, but not with bright silver and gold, Nor many broad acres hath he to control; But richer, far richer, than Croesus the king, His wealth is the peace his conscience doth bring.

Unsordid, unselfish; he 's a man I can trust, For his words and his deeds are all meant to be
just, And though he may err in whole or in part, 'Tis a fault of his judgment and not of his heart.

AND OTHER POEMS.

211

And now, as in past, "let fate do her worst," My hopes be destroyed, my prospects accursed; Come weal or come woe, let me sink, let me swim, I '11 be true to my friend though the world should
condemn.

And were there some ruby or diamond more bright Than the fairest of gems in the crown of the night, And should all the stars turn to diamonds and fall, I would not give my friend, if I could, for them all.

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THE RIGHT.
On the world's broad stage of action, Whatsoever part you play,
Let it be your soul's attraction To do all the good you may;
Heed not you the voice of jeering, Notice not the foes who slight;
Lift your head with manly bearing, Let you motto be "The Right."

Seeming friends will round you linger, When your labors meet success,
But will point a scorning finger When they see you in distress;
And it may be they will trample On you with a tyrant's might,
But forbear from their example, Let your motto be "The Right."

Oft temptations in your pathway, Like fair roses will be spread;
Deceitful charms to lead astray, Hiding dangers from your tread;
For oft beneath "fair roses" lie Serpents of most deadly bite;
So always keep an open eye, Let your motto be "The Right."

AND OTHER POEMS.

213

First see that what you undertake Is just and right before you start,
Then when you Ve done so, loose the brake, And go ahead with all your heart;
Think not of troubles on the track, Tho' many dangers meet your sight,
Face them bravely, force them back; Let your motto be "The Right."

Should slanderers base your name assail, Turn away with heedless ear;
Should friends forsake and fortune fail, Still to duty persevere;
For every star that shines above Shines on tho' clouds obscure the light --
So let the stars a lesson prove -- Let your motto be "The Right"

Then when from earth you pass away, And your soul on wings of love
Has reached the shores of endless day In that spirit land above,
You '11 find inscribed above the throne, In characters of living light,
The motto which has been thine own -- The golden motto of " The Right."

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HKROBS

WOMAN.
SBSPONSH 0 THS TOAST " WOMAN."
Fair woman, sweet woman, grand is the theme, Yet weak, oh! how weak, my powers all seem
When I dare to essay a task so divine
As weaving a wreath her brow to entwine.
Nowhere can I find in fancy's wide range
Words to express my emotions so strange -- Emotions that rise welling up in my soul And hold me spell-bound by their subtle control,
Defying all efforts of tongue and of brain
Yes, strive as I may, my struggle is vain, And yet, tho' I know how impotent -- vain, My efforts must be, I will not refrain When called to respond to the toast you propose
Though words are too weak to ever disclose
The depths of my love and lasting respects For that best gift of God -- the fair female sex. Shall I speak of her now as the mother who bore us Who kissed and caressed us and fondly watched o'er us Through infancy's hours and childhood's bright years
Who smiled when we smiled and wept with our tears, Who nourished us through all sickness and pain ? Oh, name of sweet mother, all language is vain When I would but express or faintly impart A glint of that love that wells in my heart When that name ever sacred falls on my ear, Or I breathe it with reverence as now I do here.

AND OTHBH POEMS.

215

And now of the maidens, oh, what shall I say ? Pile Ossa on Pelion, ye gods if I may, Pluck from all Heaven the orbs of the night Twist rainbows and rivers into garlands all bright Boil down Mount Vesuvius, old .(Etna condense, And mix with chain-lightning and bring them now
hence,
Transform all the ocean into gems of bright thought And give all unto me to praise as I ought These angels of earth--the to-be mother pearls, These -- these, oh, I " bust," but God bless the girls!

Now what of our wives, those angels of joy, What thoughts can I give, what words can employ, To tell of their Constance, devotion and love ? O God, send me aid by that harbinger dove With some olive of hope, some de ban augvre, Just tribute of praise to her merit to pay Oh, behold while I speak, my wife at my side, And what shall I do if this aid be denied ? Just think of her wrath and my troubles to come When we leave this bright hall and she gets me back
home!
Then send me some aid -- ye muses all nine, Or a fate worse than death I know will be mine. So here's to the wives, let me fail if I must But to do them up well on Heaven I '11 trust To guide and direct me in what I shall say, For to fail, I well know, means the devil to pay.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROHS

Yes! yes! the dear wives -- sweet angels of love Sent down by Creator from the Heavens above, To guide and direct us in the ways that are right And to quiz us next day when we 've stayed out at
night; To renew our shirt buttons, and squander our riches, Point us upward to God, and to patch our old breeches; To bring us sweet kidlets -- a new one each year -- Keep up with the fashions and show she don 't care For panics that come our hearts to appall, But will dress like the rest, though the heavens
should fall, Whether hoop-skirt or pull-back, cut high or cut low Becoming or not doesn 't cut any show, To all that is fashion they quickly give heed And die of hysterics if not found in the lead.

But in spite of all this God bless their sweet souls, Their love is the strength that supports and controls Whatever is best in the nature of man, And their love is inwove, web and woof in each plan, Which the wisdom of man has ever proposed, Or the cunning and strength of his hand has disclosed. Then here's to the ladies, their health let us drink, Let each cup and each goblet be filled to the brink With wine, rosy wine. No! its color of red Would remind her of blood her heart has oft shed In mourning and sorrow, and grief's bitter woe Resulting from wine that hath death in its glow. Nor shall it be rum or sparkling champagne These, too, sear the heart and sully the brain.

AND OTHER POEMS.

217

But come noble knights, let our goblets be filled With that drink which our God himself hath distilled And sends in the raindrops and sparkling bright dew, A drink the most precious that mortal e'er knew-- Yes water, pure water, sparkling and bright Fit emblem of purity, virtue and right. Then up with your cups and bright gleaming glasses Let us drink to our mothers, our wives and the lasses; May their lives ever be as pure and as bright As this clear crystal water, and as free from all blight As the roses just kissed with the dews of God's love, And their souls be as white as the snows from above. May angels attend them and guide them in ways Where pleasures abound to the end of their days. And when at life's end, death's summons shall come May those angels be with them to lead them up home To that place built above -- that Heaven supernal, Where in peace and in love they may live on eternal, Each wearing a crown as we know they all should Prepared by our God for the virtuous and good.

218

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

THE SOLDIER'S GRAVE.
Hallowed by man and bless'd by God, Is ever the turf which covers the dead,
But doubly bless'd and hallowed the sod Which lies o'er the martyred patriot's head.
'Tis there that brightest flowers bloom And birds in peace most sweetly sing,
While glory there dispels the gloom And death itself doth lose its sting.
'Tis there that purest tears are shed, Tears not of pity, but of love;
For tho' we weep above the dead. We know the spirit's with God above.
'Tis there that brightest dews are seen, 'Tis there that winds most plaintive moan,
'Tis there the moon's soft silvery sheen Doth lightest rest o'er Heaven's own.
'Tis there that women love to kneel When prayers sincere most fluent flow
For in their hearts they seem to feel That Heaven's gain is our woe.

AND OTHER POEMS.

-219

AN ORPHAN'S STORY.
(Written for and recited by a little glil on the occasion of a pmbllc entertainment gl-rtm by a lodge of the Knlfhts of Honor.)
Six months ago times were so bad, Poor father left-us all so sad, And went in search of work to do, For things at home were awful blue; We had no sugar, tea nor meat And very little else to eat, Our clothes were thin, our feet were bare, In fact starvation seemed to stare. Times were indeed so awful blue Poor father knew not what to do, Day after day for weeks in vain He tried some kind of work to gain, But every day 'twas just the same. When home at night he weary came, I 'd hear him to poor mother say " I 've not a dollar earned to-day." And then he 'd bow his head and sigh And say he wished that he could die. Poor mother then would try to cheer By saying better times were near. And round his neck her arms would place And kiss his lips and kiss his face, And gently stroke his roughened hair Striving thus to soothe his care Although her bleeding heart the while Was breaking, she would sweetly smile,

220

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

And beg him look to God for aid And be not in his heart dismayed. Telling him how the ravens fed Poor Lijah when he prayed for bread; But papa was not much on prayer Nor much relied on raven fare; He only on himself relied To furnish what should be supplied Such as clothing, coal and food, Just as all true husbands should. He well had learned in sorrow's school That trusting fate was as a rule A waste of time that comes to naught, That bread is not by waiting brought. " In fact," he said, " let birds be durned ; If we get bread it must be earned, And earned by me with honest work," That duty he would never shirk; And since no work could he get here He 'd go and seek it else somewhere. So telling mamma not to cry He kissed and bade us all good-bye, But hunger long had made him weak And robbed the color from his cheek. Thus faint and weak he went away, And.I and mother day by day Waited trusting soon to hear From him, some news our hearts to cheer. But days went by, and when at length Poor mother wasted of her strength

AND OTHER POBMS.

221

Through grief and hunger went to bed, I then was forced to beg for bread. What else was there for me to do, While mother daily weaker grew And needed me by her sick bed To bathe her hands and cool her head ? And oft so hungry I would feel That there beside her bed I 'd kneel And pray to Him who reigns on high To let poor me and mamma die; But God was good and willed it not That we should die, though sad our lot, And so we lived on day by day No star of hope to send a ray To cheer us in our sad dismay With promise of a better day. Poor mother daily weaker grew While her sad eyes of liquid blue Grew dim with weeping and with pain -- With grieving and with longings vain For papa, who had not returned And of whose death we had not learned. But by and by a letter came From place out west, just now the name I can't recall, but this it said That my poor darling Pa was dead, And while though far from home he died That kindly friends were by his side And gave to him all needful care; In fact, that he had brothers there

222

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Who stayed beside him night and day

Until his soul had passed away,

j

Then gave him funeral honors such,

As for a Prince, were not too much.

The writer then went on to tell

That he had known my papa well,

Said they were brothers of a band --

The noblest, greatest in the land,

And said that Knights of Honor true,

Would come to see us and would do

What e'er they could to cheer our grief,--

To comfort us and give relief.

A few weeks later, three or four,

We heard a knocking at the door

And opening it three men I met,

Whose coming I will ne'er forget,

They were so gentle and so kind;

So genteel, manly and refined,

And talked so nicely all the while

They even made poor mamma smile.

And oh, it eased my hunger's pain

To see poor mamma smile again.

For she had been so long you know

Bowed down by sickness, want and woe;

So long since I had seen a trace

Of pleasure in her pallid face;

I scarcely could believe my eyes

So great indeed was my surprise.

Just what it was that made her smile

I '11 tell you in a little while.

AND OTHER POEMS.

223

They said that they had come to bring The Knights of Honor's offering,-- Two thousand dollars in a pile, Yes, it was that which made her smile, And now you all can plainly see I 'm not so poor as I used to be: My clothes are nice, my shoes are fine, And see my rings just how they shine, And when I walk out on the street I notice every boy I meet Gives a smiling glance at me, And I 'm just happy as can be, But I 've determined in my mind, I '11 never marry till I find A really handsome nice young man, Who is a member of the clan Of Knights of Honor, brave and true, Who duty knows and dares to do What is just, what e'er is right,-- As does each valiant wo; thy Knight Yes, he who wins my heart and hand, Must be a member of that Band Of Knights of Honor, generous, free, Just like my papa used to be.

224

A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

OUR CONFEDERATE DEAD.*
Wake up my muse, from slumber rise, Bright is the earth and fair the skies; The birds are singing everywhere, And flowers sweet perfume the air; Sweet gentle spring has come again, And everywhere on hill and plain Artistic Nature's works are seen In festoons fair and banners green. Then wake my muse, attune thy lyre, My soul with melody inspire, And let me now the thoughts impart That echo in my loyal heart And surge within my heaving breast, Tho* all in vain to be expressed. No simple rhyming roundelay Will now suffice, for I essay To sing in high and rapt'rous strain The praises of our hallowed slain. Yes, 'tis of these my song shall be, Brave martyrs, they, to liberty. And oh, my muse could never ask A more sublime or holy task, For never since the world began, Since God created living man, Has ever more heroic band Been marshaled out in any land

* Written for add read om Memorial Day, April Mth, 1896, by request of Camp Hardee, U. C. V.

AND OTHER POEMS.

225

Than they who took the sword in hand To battle for our Southern land; Nor braver men have ever bled, Nor better blood was ever shed, Nor shed for cause more pure and grand, Than was that of our Southern band. Then would to God my muse could rise On soaring wing to yonder skies And pluck the shining orbs of night Like roses, that in garlands bright, Each star might shine an immortelle For those who for my country fell. I durst, if such I could but do, Snatch from yon dome of azure hue Each sun and moon and satellite That beams within the crown of night For this my song, that every line Might scintillate and brightly shine Effulgent, glorious and so grand That everywhere on sea and land The hosts of earth entranced should stand, And up on high the angels' band Should cease their songs and gladly hear A strain so glorious and so clear. Yet even then 'twere all in vain, And poor indeed the rapt'rous strain, For though each word and every thought With inspiration's glow was fraught, And voiced with grand crescendo swell,
IS

226

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

In praise of those who fought and fell, 'Twould be in vain and fail indeed To give to them one tithe the meed Of praises due, or faintly tell How God-like, grand and brave they fell; For mortal pen, nor mortal tongue, Nor angel choir hath ever sung A song of praise in lofty strain Half worthy of our martyred slain. And yet for all, my humble muse, When called to sing will not refuse. But catching inspiration's gleam From Heaven sent, my noble theme Should be enough my soul to fire, To warm me and my heart inspire, And make each word and every line With beauty and with brilliance shine, For nobler theme was never given To man on earth or saint in Heaven Than that which stirs my soul to-day-- The praise of men who wore the gray ! From burning Sumter, by the sea, To Appomattox's apple tree ; From Chesapeake in Maryland To border shores of Rio Grande, Like demigods from first to last They met the raging battle blast, And daunted not by thunder crash Of cannonade, or lightning flash

AND OTHER POEMS.

227

Of musketry, all undismayed, With bayonet and flashing blade They struggled on, or fighting fell, Their only cry, the rebel yell, Which in its wild defiant notes Outrang the brazen cannon's throats, And higher, louder seemed to rise, As on they fought, till earth and skies Reverb'rant shook, 'till at the last High Heaven looked and stood aghast To see the wreck and carnage dire Left in their wake of stubborn ire. But look to-day--how changed the scene, Those battle-fields are wrapped in green, And beauteous flowers, fresh in bloom, Distilling out their sweet perfume, While high o'er all is sweetly heard The peaceful notes of mocking bird, And o'er each mound that marks the grave Where rests the bones of martyred brave, Our lovely women sweet and fair, Will come to-day with garlands rare Of evergreens and richest blooms To decorate those hallowed tombs; And as they kneel and place them there, With fervent heart will send a prayer To Him who reigns beyond the sky, To bless their ashes where they lie,

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A GALAXY OF 'SOUTHERN HEROES

And-grant to each in Heaven a place, Who fought for home and pride of race, And died defending Southern rights, True to their God, chivalrous knights. And in that last great coming day, When time on earth shall cease for aye, And God shall call from out the skies To all the dead of earth to rise, I trust to see in that great day Our marshaled hosts in grand array, Each laurel-crowned with victor's wreath, Triumphant over sin and death, Soar up in one great column grand To that supreme celestial land, Where angels and archangels bright Shall open wide the gates of light And gladly hail and welcome them, Whilst cherubim and seraphim, And everything with voice to sing, Shall join to make the heavens ring With gladsome shout and welcome song To God's redeemed-- the mighty throng Whose praises now we sing with pride, The bravest men that ever died.

AND OTHER POEMS.

229

THE UNFORTUNATES PLEA.
Tho' clouds of adversity have darkened my life, And the star of my fate goes down in the strife, Tho' my destiny yields me but troubles and care, And my poor aching heart is rent with despair ; My lips to the struggles within shall be mute, And the shafts that are hurled my soul to confute Tho' striking their mark, the wounds I '11 conceal, And bravely repress the anguish I feel.

Tho' my friends all forsake and the world doth con demn,
Tho' my breast with its sorrow is full to the brim, Though my hopes are all blasted and my prospects
are fled, Thank God for His strength; my conscience, not dead, Still glows with its ardour for justice and right, And my soul still unawed by oppression and might, Bids a defiance to the wrath that is hurled, And gives scorn in return for the scorn of the world.

Never my motives have been understood, Or else they have basely been misconstrued; My actions suspected, my kindness abused, My sympathies spurned, my good will refused; The serpent of slander hath traversed my fame, And his trail so polluting hath sullied my name; But the 'lurements of creed, of power and gold, I 've spurned from my breast like wolves from the fold.

230

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROBS

And never will I while on earth I remain Seek from the world its plaudits to gain, Nor bow to the shrines of fashion and pride, Nor steer my course with the popular tide ; For policy's rule, and bigotry's reign, Awake in my soul its deepest disdain, And I turn in my loathing of hate and disgust From the soulless throngs, so false and unjust.

They boast of religion and love for mankind, But damning a man for the bent of his mind, Cry infidel, heretic, knave and fool, To all who refuse their shackles and rule; Dissenters they place on Procrustean bed And shorten their limb or sever their head, Or lengthen them out by chains and by screws, Thus making them gauge to their orthodox views.

Fraud and chicanery in politics rule, And the greater the knave, the better the tool, And if he, in fraud, ignore the just laws, The louder will be the acclaim of applause. Thus goes the world with popular sway, Vice is triumphant and justice gives way, And judges in ermine their benches disgrace, Whilst the people are taxed to keep them in place.
Tis ever the same, in state and in church, When charity's wanted 'tis found in the lurch; Religion and freedom exists but in name, They both have their riders and have a like aim.

AND OTHER POEMS.

231

Tis self aggrandizement, wealth, power and fame, And the means they pursue the devil would shame; Hut to be not aboard with the popular tide Is to have them abuse and your conscience deride.

But why should I sigh, or my race execrate, When God is supreme over church and the state, And sooner or later will his vengeance be hurled, To right all the wrongs and sins of the world. Yes, soon or late, with Him must abide The judgment of all of whatever side; Then the weak shall go up and the strong shall come
down And justice shall wear the laurel and crown.

Yes, life is but transient and short at the best, And beyond the dark grave is the haven of rest; And there shall my spirit, when its trials are done, Mount to the throne my conscience hath won, And receive from my God, for whom I have wrought, The palms and the crown for the battles I "ve fought, And folding my pinions, forever I '11 rest In the mansions prepared for the weak and oppressed.

232

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

THE CRANK.
Let poets sing of priest or king, And prate of warriors great,
Or praise in verse, the men who curse Our land in halls of state,
No little lord nor man of sword, Nor statesman need we thank;
My muse I '11 ask a nobler task-- To sing of the humble crank.

-First in the fight for all that's right A trenchant sword he wields,
And undismayed his flashing blade Leads on to glorious fields;
Altho' unknown he toils alone, Without reward or thank,
Of blessings rare our greatest are First from some humble crank.

Galileo was, well we know, A star-crazed crank at best,
Tho' first he found, this earth was round, And thus his millions blest.
Columbus, too, the brave and true, Colossal crank was he,
Was first in mind, a world to find, Which lay beyond the sea.

AND OTHER POEMS.

233

Old Harvey, too, with genius true, Whose crank-won inspiration,
Discerned the course from cardie source, Of sanguine circulation.
And Jenner great, let fs not forget, Who taught us vaccination,
Was but a crank of highest rank Who blessed our whole creation.

But should I name each crank of fame And tell of all they Ve done,
A story bright I would indite, Of all earth's victories won.
Then here's to cranks, aliens or Yanks, No matter what their birth,
To them I '11 sing with honest ring, They are the gods of earth.

234

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

OUR SUNNY LAND AND SOUTHERN DEAD.
Fair sunny land -- home of the brave How wondrous and supremely blest!
Like billows on tempestuous sea, Emotions rise within my breast,
And surging with a pathos deep, Sweep o'er my soul in currents grand,
When e'er I hear or breathe thy name, Sweet sunny South, my native land.
What other land 'neath Heaven's dome By braver men was ever trod ?
What other land on earth is known So lavishly endowed of God .*
Where else on earth such valorous deeds, As by our Southern patriots done,
And where, oh where such women true, As here beneath our Southern sun ?
Then wake! oh, wake! my muse awake! A glorious theme my soul inspires;
From blue empyrean heights above Come warm me with celestial fires.
Attune my tongue to grandeur's strain, And let my words with genius blaze,
Whilst I the glorious task essay -- Our martyred Southern hosts to praise.

AND OTHER POEMS.

235

But no, ah, no! the plea is vain, No human tongue in words can frame,
Nor wreathe in thoughts however bright, The measure of their deathless fame.
But everywhere on earth and sea, Where 'er a patriot's heart shall beat,
The welkin with their praise shall ring, Till eternity and time shall meet.

But till some nobler muse than mine. Evoked by greater bard than I,
And aided by a power divine, From bright supernal realms on high,
Shall grasp the poet's flaming pen With superhuman force to write,
Be mine the will if not the power Their glorious records to recite.

And yet tho' frail and halt of speech, An humble chaplet I would weave.
To place upon our soldiers' graves, And grandeur's task to others leave;
For well I know some noble bard, Some poet greater far than I,
Shall yet arise and grandly sing, Of those who sleep, but cannot die.
And till the cycling years of time, Have into dark oblivion rolled
All love of home and native land, Their valorous deeds shall still be told ;

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And yearning youth at mother's knee Shall, in the ages yet to be,
By grand example of their deeds, Learn how to die for liberty.

Thermopylae and Marathon For ages held the captive eye
Of all who looked for honored fields, Where men had taught us how to die ;
But now the gaze of all mankind, Who seek for glory's proudest shrines,
Must turn to Sumter and Bull Run, To Gettysburg and Seven Pines.

Alexander and the Caesars great. Long held the crown of proudest fame;
But lusterless their crowns appear, Dimmed in the light of him I name--
Of him whose hand ne'er sought to hold The sceptre over men yet free,
For now, fame's brightest shining gem, Beams in the crown of Robert Lee.

Joan of Arc, the martial queen, Led forth her ranks in grand array,
And carved her name on fame's proud fane By valorous deeds in battle fray ;
But grander than her grandest inarch Is that by Southern women led,
When marching with spring garlands bright To deck the graves of Southern dead.

AND OTHER POEMS.

237

And grander than all cenotaphs That ever hand of mortal reared ;
More brilliant than all banners dear That ever on the breeze appeared ;
More beautiful than brightest stars That shine in vaulted dome of night
Are those bright tears which beauty sheds For those who fought for home and right.

Nor will they as they come to-day, With evergreens and brightest blooms,
To decorate with tender care Our sleeping heroes' silent tombs,
Forget or slight those foemen brave, Who proved through flame their courage true,
But true to Southern chivalry, With flowers rare their graves will strew.

And you, ye war-scarred remnant brave, Who loved the cause our Davis led,
Will never forget sweet Winnie dear Now that her noble sire is dead.
And every weeping orphan's tear, And every widow's plaintive plea,
Will wake a warm, responsive chord In every heart of Camp Hardee.

And in that last great coming morn, When God shall bid all sleepers rise
From earth and seas to camps on high, Joined heart and hand beyond the skies,

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In armistice of eternal peace, We '11 bivouac amid the stars,
And reverence through eternity The stars and stripes and stars and bars.

TILL I COME BACK AGAIN.
No, I '11 not forget you, darling, Though roaming far away,
Your loving smile shall light my path Wherever I may stray;
And every loving word of thine Shall e'er with me remain,
And banish every gloomy thought Till I come back again.
The many happy days with you Were all too quickly passed,
They were so full of blissful joy I knew they could not last;
But in my heart a star of hope Shines not, I trust in vain,
And by its light I '11 steer my course Till I come back again.
In lands afar beyond the sea My fate may be to roam,
And weeks and months and years may pass Ere I turn back to home;

AND OTHER POEMS.

239

But thy bright face in memory set Shall never dim nor wane,
Or lose its charm to light my soul Till I come back again.

Tis only for your sake, my dear, That I must leave you now,
So let me kiss and clear away The clouds upon your brow,
Then with your blessing let me go, Stern fortune's smile to gain,
And vow once more you '11 constant prove Till I come back again.

Then should misfortune overtake And pall me with dismay,
This thought a talisman shall be To break all evil's sway.
It is your promise to be mine, Which like some sweet refrain
Will ever echo in my heart, Till I come back again.

Now, au revoir, but not farewell, With one last kiss of love,
To be a seal upon the vow That you will constant prove,
And that no other loving swain Shall in your heart obtain
The place that I so fondly claim
Till I come back again.

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SLANDERERS OF GORDON.
(Written when Gordon was candidate for Governor.)
I can 't but feel within me rise A deep indignant flame
When e'er I hear ungrateful tongue Dare to assail the name
Of him to whom we are endeared By every sacred tie --
Of him to whom 'twere pleasure yet To follow and to die.
For, oh, I loathe, despise and hate The poltroon and the knave,
Who, serpent-like, will turn and strike The hand once stretched to save.
Oh yes, oh yes, ingratitude, Of all man's sins the worst,
If there be deeper hells than hell, May it be deepest curst.
Who but the bribe-bought ruffians And self-ignobling clan,
Would so disgrace our noble State, By slandering such a man ?
A man whose great, chivalrous heart Ne'er hath a pulsing throb
That does not beat for fellow-man, For country and for God.

AND OTHER POBMS.

241

Go to the hundred battle-fields Where he has bravely stood,
And where, eight times upon their plains, He poured his manly blood --
Go ask of those historic grounds, Both vale and riverside,
If ever duty called to him And he the call denied.

And ask you, too, of those who stood Beside him on the fields,
If ever once he turned to foes And showed his back or heels.
And ask of those who faced him there, Those heroes of the blue,
And let him answer, him who'dare, To say he was untrue.

Then, when the storm of war had passed And all our hopes were riven,
When satraps, with their bayonets (May they be cursed of Heaven)
Put alien thieves and scalawags To rule and rob our State;
Who was it then who led the van To shield us from that fete?

16
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Oh, 'twas that matchless, God-like man, That Christian soldier brave,
The statesman and philanthropist, Whom God in goodness gave
To point the way of patriots Who seek the prize of fame,
And bless us with the heritage
Of one bright, spotless name.

Then, hark! ye miscreants and knaves, Your lying tongues be stilled,
For every Southern patriot With more than scorn is filled.
And hark ye, too, there is a God That's ruling overhead,
And_hush, lest Ananias-like, That God may strike you dead.

i

AMD OTHER POEMS.

243

WATTING AT THE RIVER.*
" Lord, how long shall I have to wait Before I cross the river?"
I long to reach that other shore, Where I can rest forever.

My journey, Lord, has been so long, Life's wilderness so dreary;
My burden's been so hard to bear; My soul is feint and weary.

Then haste, O Lord, to speak the word, And bid my waiting cease,
I fain would leave this dreary shore, And reach the land of peace.

Whilst here I wait, O'Lord, I bear Most poignant griefs and pain,
My weary soul now turns to thee, And pleads that land to gain.

'Tis dark and chilly on this shore, But over the stream I see
The sun still shining warm and bright, Where loved ones wait for me.

My heart, O Lord, has long been there, , With all I love the best;
Oh, send thy angels, precious Lord, ___ And lead me to my rest.
* Almost tie last word* of my aged fatter, Her.Dr T. H.Doxier, while on hUdylnr bed, were: " Oh, Iiord, how Ion* shall I have to wait before I cross tie rlTer?"

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My father's face I long to see, My saintly mother's, too,
And many children gone before, O Lord, are there with you.

Do, precious Saviour, haste to speak, And bid me now to come,
And join the bright celestial band In my eternal home.

"OUR ORDER HERE."
PBRORATION TO RKSPONSB TO A TOAST.
But I forget. Tis not of our fair city and her match-, less wealth, by lavish hand of God bestowed, that I would speak,
But 'tis of something nobler far-- A jewel bright -- a shining star-- The brightest gem which decks her brow, Is that which I would champion now. But should I speak, as well I might, Of furnaces whose fires bright Make noonday of our darkest night And paint the skies with lurid light; Or, tell how wondrous here combine, The wealth of coal and iron mine, And how our manufactures great The riches bring from every State;

AND OTHER POBMS.

245

Or, boastful, tell in wondrous tale The matchless glories of this vale, Your pardon just I might receive, Tho' some, perchance, would scarce believe, For such the story 'twould but seem Like fiction or a summer's dream. But, as I said, 'tis not of these I '11 speak my hearers now to please. A grander theme my soul inspires And warms me with ennobling fires, My theme is of our order grand, The noblest in this glorious land. And tho' our members are but few, Each Knight is valiant, brave and true, And counts but wasted every sun Which sees not some good action done, Some noble act or generous deed In keeping with our Order's creed, For Knights of Honor ever hold Kind actions more than finest gold. To shield the widows and provide For orphans is our greatest pride; To raise the fallen, help the weak, And dry the tear on mourner's cheek; To help our brothers in distress, And ev'ry home we enter, bless; To carry sunshine and relief Wherever hang the clouds of grief, Reviving hope and stilling fear, These are our daily missions here.

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To sit beside the bed of pain When fever burns a brother's brain And nurse him back to health again. From works like these we ne'er refrain, And when our great dictator, God, Bids brother Knight pass 'neath the rod And enter that grand lodge on high -- The lodge supreme, above the sky -- We fold his hands upon his breast, And when his corpse with prayers we've blest, We give him cortege to the grave And there with tears his dust we lave, And flowers strew upon his bier: I speak this, of our Order here.

MOURN, GEORGIA, MOURN
(Written during Gen. Gordon's campaign for Governor.)
Mourn, Georgia, mourn, my native State, Sad seems, indeed, thy bitter fate: Thy banner proud that never trailed, By demagogues is now assailed, And thy bright star of rising fame Seems doomed at last to set in shame.

AND OTHBR POBMS.

247

Thou hast before been sore distressed, When alien foes thy strength suppressed, And held thee down 'neath tyrant heel, Whilst scalawags could rob and steal; But tyrant's hate and heels to crush Could never give thee cause to blush.

Unhappy then as was thy curse, Thy bitter fate must now be worse -- To feel the shame, to see and know 'Tis thy own sons inflict thy woe; That they, who nurtured on thy soil, Now robber-like would thee despoil.

Hear now that mob in scorn deride Thy patriots and thy men of pride, Whom they have dragged with malice vile From seats which chumps will now defile-- From places high which gave thee fame, Which now, alas, must bring thee shame.

But hear me, O fair Georgia, hark! There yet remains one man of mark, Whose hand thy honor yet might save. He is that patriot--Gordon--brave, Spurn not his proffer, ere too late In sackcloth thou shalt mourn thy fate.

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES


MY LOSAHATCHIE HOME.*

In these days of awful panics, (Strikes are heard of everywhere),
While Congress sits and piddles, And starvation seems to stare,
When all business goes to pieces, And the devil's on a tear,
In vain I long for refuge From my troubles and my care.

And my heart is filled with longing For that dear old mountain stream,
Losahatchie, on whose surface, Like a vision in a dream,
I can always see reflected Mount Coloma's rugged dome,
And the little vine-clad cottage That I used to call my home.

Even now in heart I 'm longing To go back there once more,
And with line and pole to wander Along its shady shore,
Where, as a careless, barefoot boy, I once was wont to roam,
When life was free from sorrow, In my Losahatchie home.
* IfOsahatchle IB the name of a beautiful mountain stream la North Alabama.

.

AND OTHER POEMS.

249

Yes, my dear old Losahatchie! Since I wandered from thy shore,
The world has not all seemed to be What I dreamed in days of yore.
And thy cooling shades and fountains, And thy vales of fertile loam
Now fill my soul with longing For my Losahatchie home.
Yes, yes; O Losahatchie! Thou queen of mountain streams,
How often have I sought thee In my nightly troubled dreams,
To lave my fevered temples In thy cooling spray and foam,
'Neath the spreading beech and maples, At my Losahatchie home.

IN PARADISE.
In a deep, unbroken forest, beside a flowing stream, I laid me down one afternoon, and, sleeping had a
dream; The pearly gates of paradise were open to my view, And I saw therein the faces that once on earth I
knew.
No jeweled king or beaded priest did there my vis ion trace.
No warrior with bis sword and plume, with epaulets and lace;

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

No tattered coat on pauper's back, no miser with his gold,
Nor any sign of earthly pomp did I therein behold.
But every one was robed alike, both of great and lowly birth --
Only crowns of different lustre told their stage of virtuous worth
And those who had ten talents sat nearer to the throne
Than did the more unfortunates, who never had but one.
For in Heaven, as on earth, talents supremely reign, For God loves wisdom better than He does a shallow
brain; And according as the talents are improved, which he
has given, So must be their lot and rank with the angel hosts of
Heaven.
Some brighter far than others shone, but all were bright with grace,
No cloud of grief on any brow could there my vision trace;
I saw the Christian and the Tew, united hand in hand, Dwelling in unbroken peace in that celestial land.

I saw distinctive features of every human race, And types of every nation in that sweet, holy place;

AND OTHER POEMS.

251

Yes, there were men of every tribe, of every rank and creed,
Whose tasks on earth had been to do their great Creator's meed.

I saw the wild barbarian, and the untaught heathen there,
Who were not saved by water, by crucifix nor prayer; All dwelt in peace together, from priestly hells apart, For God had known their talents, and judged them
by the heart.

In supremacy of justice, and in mercy's boundless sway,
God, with love and charity, had swept their sins away.
And there, in blissful union, their troubles ne'er appal,
They praised the great Jehovah, whose hand had saved them all.

Yes, He who made this world, 'mid ten thousand worlds to roll,
Whose hands created Heaven, and man with death less soul,
Who controls the mighty oceans, which stretch from pole to pole,
Never made or framed a creed to damn a human soul.

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

MEMORIAL DAY INVOCATION.
Be pleased, O God! to bless this day, And bless the tributes which we lay
Upon the consecrated graves Of patriots who wore the gray.
Quick to obey their country's call, When tyrants threatened to enthrall,
They rallied to the new-born flag, Ready in her defense to fall.
For justice and for rights denied, They met the raging battle's tide,
Which foemen waged against their land, And in her cause they nobly died.
For native land they fought and bled, And better blood was never shed,
Nor ever shed for better cause, Than was that of our Southern dead.
Nor ever yet for any land Was marshalled out a braver band,
Than those who stood on Southern soil To battle for their native land.

AND OTHER POEMS.

253

SIX AND THIRTY YEARS AGO.
Since six and thirty years ago, What changes time has wrought,
Wild roses sweet now bud and blow Where battles then were fought
O'er hardened glebe where armies trod The plowman drives afield,
In peaceful trust and faith in God For bounteous harvest-yield.
The tinkling bell of gentle flock Is heard on grassy plain
Once seared and torn in battle shock, And piled with human slain,
Whilst pretty homes now crown the hills Where frowning forts then stood,
And limpid flows the purling rills, Once red with patriot's blood.
The wild and frenzied hate of men, Thank God, is changed to love.
And now instead of battle din, The voice of cooing dove
Floats softly on the summer breeze In cadence sweet and clear,
And lulls the warrior now at ease At home with loved ones dear.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROKS

Grim, blackened ruins that whilom-stood In paths where armies led,
With lighted torch, through fields of blood, Are gone, and now instead,
With joy, behold, in grandeur sprung From out those rueful fires
A newer South, whose rapt'rous tongue A newer song inspires.

She sings of re-united land, Where hearts and hands unite,
She sings with joy of union grand, Of happy homes so bright
With love and peace and plenty blest Where hangs the rusting blade,
That erstwhile flashed on battle crest, When war this land dismayed.

But whilst she sings, remembers still The South of auld lang syne,
That dear old South whose memories thrill This poor old heart of mine;'
For never once can I forget The glory and the pride
Which, hallowed, lingers round her yet, Till I in death abide.
No wail of woe or hate or spite Discordant mars the strain,
Her cause we know was just and right 'Twas freedom to maintain,

AND OTHER POHMS.

255

And though by whelming odds oppressed Her flag from her was torn,
Before the world it stands confessed The purest ever borne.

And though it never floats again, Though never more unfurled,
Its story true without a stain Will glorify the world.
For those who bore that banner bright Through seas of gore and flame
A record left on glory's height Of never dying fame.

And whilst the cycling whirl of time Unceasing, onward rolls,
The record of their deeds sublime Beneath its sacred folds
Will, brightening with the lapse of years, In brighter brilliance flame,
Till every orb in astral spheres Shall see and pale with shame.

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WELCOME SONG.
All hail! Great Incohonee, Great Sachem, wise and true,
Our warriors, braves and chieftains Most gladly welcome you,
In Freedom and in Friendship United firm and strong,
We gladly hail our chieftain, With this our welcome song.

CHORUS:
Then welcome to our wigwam, Our hearts are warm and true,
Come share our corn and venison, And drink our skila-wa-boo.

Within these fertile valleys, And on these verdant plains,
The tomahawk we 've buried And peace and plenty reigns.
Our trails but lead to pleasure, No war-whoop here resounds,
And now we bid you welcome, To these our hunting grounds.

CHORUS:
Then welcome to our wigwam, Our hearts are warm and true,
Come share our corn and venison, And drink our skila-wa-boo.

.

AND OTHER POEMS.

257

Our hunters are the truest That ever grasped a bow,
Our warriors are the bravest That-ever faced a foe.
Our squaws and papooses, And all our maidens bright,
Will hail you, Incohonee, With rapture and delight.

CHORUS:
Then welcome to our wigwam, Our hearts are warm and true,
Come share our corn and venison, And drink our skila-wa-boo.

17

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

A DREAM THAT WAS NOT ALL A DREAM.
Beside my sweet darling's grave in the city of the dead,
I sat until the sinking sun's last ray of light had fled; And all alone, I heeded not the ebbing of the day. For my heart was in the grave, and my thoughts
were far away.
One by one, the little stars came forth, twinkling overhead,
Until the whole of heaven was with beauty over spread ;
The moon, then like a silver ship, came mounting up above,
And floated gently onward, as if moved by hands of love.
Bright flowers, blooming round me, lent a sweetness to the air,
But I heeded not their fragrance, nor noticed they were there;
And there beside the grave, while silence reigned supreme,
O'ercome at last by weeping, I slept and had a dream.
I saw the heavens part -- heard a sound of thunder loud,
Then saw descending earthward a shining silver cloud; And reclining on that cloud, with bright angels by
her side, I recognized my darling, my sweet angelic bride.

AND OTHER POEMS.

259

And as the cloud came slowly down, such music filled my ears
As I never, never heard before upon this vale of tears;
And when it came to where I was, it seemed there to divide,
And my sweet, angelic darling was sitting by my side.
Around her forehead twined a wreath of softest glow ing light,
And the raiment that she wore was a robe of spotless white;
Halos of radiant light all round about us shone, And the music of her voice was like the ztthern's
sweetest tone.
She told me of a place above, a happy spirit land, Where everything is beautiful, majestical and grand; Where the God of nature sits on a glory beaming
throne, Where life is life eternal, and where sorrow is
unknown.
She told me of friends and kindred all dwelling there above,
And from each she brought a message to remind me of their love;
Then bidding me good-bye, said she 'd wait me on the shore
Of that bright land celestial where there's parting never more.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Then on that cloud I saw her take a gentle, upward flight,
And watching till she reached the sky, she vanished from my sight;
And tho' I know 'twas but a dream, a delusion of the brain,
I cannot yet help wishing she may come in dreams again.

BLITHESOME LITTLE LIBBY.
Pretty little skating girl, Fairest in the mazy whirl, Winsome, charming and as fair And graceful as a bird of air --
Blithesome little Libby.
Pretty little skating belle, Playful as a young gazelle, Brightly beams her hazel eyes As around the rink she flies,
Blithesome little Libby.
Pretty little skating queen, Fairer form was never seen, Like a vision in a dream Memories of her doth seem --
Blithesome little Libby.

J

AND OTHER POEMS.

261

FORGET ME NOT.
Forget me not whilst memory's chain Holds sacred, firm and true,
Nor let thy heart be steeped in pain If I can bear its pain for you.

Forget me not whilst in thy heart Thy life's blood ebbs and flows,
Nor let from me thy faith depart-- Forbid me not to share thy woes.

Forget me not where'er thou be, Whatsoever fate be thine,
On desert's shore or lonely sea, Remember, love, that I am thine.

Forget me not when shades of death Shall dwell upon thy breast,
But with thy last departing breath Remember me who loved thee best.

A FRAGMENT.
Let angels that hover around us in air Keeping record of joys that bloom in the heart,
Proclaim from their tablets the dearest joy there, And in whispers of spirit we'll hear them impart;
It is the sweet pleasure when exiles we roam Of knowing that loved ones remember us still--
That dear ones we 've left behind us at home Let thoughts of ourselves their memories fill.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROBS

CLUB SONG No. I.
(Alr-Bonnle Bine Fla.)
We are a band of patriots, United heart and hand,
To shield the honor of our race, In this our glorious land.
The blood that flows within our veins We never will disgrace
By sharing our heritage With earth's ignoble race.
CHORUS:
Then rouse! arouse ! Let white men all arouse!
Maintaining white supremacy, The cause which we espouse.
By laws divine, the right to rule This white man's land we claim,
And true to our Caucasian blood, We '11 not submit to shame;
Nor will we e'er in peace submit To laws which stultify,
But, in the majesty of right, We '11 rule this land or die.
CHORUS:
Then rouse! arouse ! Let white men all arouse !
Maintaining white supremacy, The cause which we espouse.

AND OTHER POEMS.

263

CLUB SONG No. 2.
(Air--America.)
My comrades, true and brave, This land our fathers gave
To us alone; Unsullied, pure and bright, No shame our flag shall blight, And we will in our might
Defend our own.
Lift up your shields my braves; Think of those honored graves
Your fathers fill. Think of your honored line Think of your rights divine To shield sweet freedom's shrine
And swear you will.
Men of Caucasian birth, Regents of all the earth
United stand. Sharing each other's care, Shielding our women fair -- Be this thy daily prayer;
God bless our land.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HBROES

CLUB SONG No. 3.
(Air--Greenland'* Icy Mountains.)
From golden California To rocky coast of Maine,
From gulf-washed Alabama To farther'st Northern plain,
True patriotic white men Are rising in their might,
For law and white supremacy, For God, and for the right.

Then welcome, stranger, welcome, We hail you as a friend;
Come join our ranks and help us To shield and to defend
Our homes and women's honor, Our nation's flag and laws,
And God will keep and bless you -- For sacred is our cause.

Nor will we, free-born Regents Of Anglo-Saxon race,
Ere bow in weak submission Or yield to such disgrace
As ever to surrender The right to rule this land;
But true to God and country United we will stand.

AND OTHER POEMS.

265

CLUB SONG No. 4.
(Air--Anld I/ing- Syne.)
Good night! Good night! Taps now resound, May guardian angels keep
A faithful watch by every couch Where comrades fall asleep.

And when at dawn of rosy morn, The birds sing reveille,
Let every Regent don his crown Of white supremacy.

Let noble deeds of comrades true A shield unto us be,
And true to our just cause and God, We '11 rule the land and sea.

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A GAI.AXY OK SOUTHERN HEROES

RETROSPECTION.
(Read at Memorial Exercises, April 26,1902.)
With Ides of March the winter's gone, Her snowy robes she *s put away,
The April sun resplendent shines And warms the earth with genial ray.
The soft south winds from southern seas Sigh with their loads of sweet perfume,
Whilst vale and cove and hill and dale Are wrapped in robes of gorgeous bloom.

All nature seems in smiling mood, And everywhere in copse and grove,
The merry thrush and mocking bird, Are caroling their songs of love.
No glint of grief or gloom appears Beneath the bright cerulean sky,
And yet within this heart of mine I can't repress a rising sigh.

For flowers bright and songs of birds, The breath of spring with sweet perfume
Recall to mind that April day When years ago the cannon's boom
Rang wildly out in Charleston bay, And round the earth a shudder sent,
For all who heard that ominous gun Knew but too well just what it meant.

AND OTHER POEMS.

267

All knew it meant that bonds were rent, Which long had bound our Union strong1.
That ties of friendship, kinship, love, Were severed then, and all the wrong
That comes with war, grim visaged war, Must needs be borne, since right of might
Thenceforth must rule, and reason just Give way to passion, hate and spite.

Even now in retrospective view, The supervening years but seem,
With all their turmoil, loss and strife A fevered brain's distempered dream --
I see invading armies come With sword and torch and hearts of hate.
I see our towns and cities burned. Our happy homes made desolate.

I see with grief on field and plain, Contending hosts in deadly fray;
I mark the wreck and carnage dire, The terror and the dread dismay
Of helpless children, mothers, wives, Outcasts, all homeless, hungry, sad,
Poor, footsore, wandering refugees From ruthless men by war made mad.

Our women then, God bless their souls, Like Spartan mothers, every one,
Bade fathers, brothers, husbands, go -- Even sons who scarce could shoulder gun --

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A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Yea, bade them by their honor go;
Encouraged all to go and fight, And fighting win or fighting die,
For God, for country and the right.

And then I see their soft white hands, Unused before to work and toil,
All calloused now by cotton cards And menial labors, that despoil
Their softness, as the spinning wheel And noisy, homely, old-time loom,
For which they 'd put guitars aside, Pianos, too, to give them room.

From spinning, weaving, making cloth To clothe their loved ones in the field,
I mark their cheeks grow wan and pale, See griefs that cannot be concealed,
Yes, see them stifling back the tear
And smiling at privations long; Returning grim starvation's stare
With fortitude and courage strong.
I see them wending through the camp.
Ministering to maimed and sick; Bathing and binding bloody wounds,
Then hastening on with footsteps quick To kneel beside the dying cot
Where some poor soul is ebbing 'way, And there in accents sweet and low
To aid that dying soul to pray.

AND OTHER POEMS.

269

Oh, would to God I yet could wake, And waking, find 'twere all a dream ;
That all the memories of those days Were not as real as yet they seem ;
That never women such as they-- So fair, so pure, so free from stain,--
Should e'er be forced by cruel war To bear such trials, grief and pain.

But, after all, God knows what 's right, And suffers all things for the best;
Such memories serve to whet the love And feed the flames within the breast
And suffers not the heart to chill, But lights the soul, illumes the mind
With brighter, brilliant, just esteem For all the world of woman-kind.

Nor yet, please God, would I forget The faithfulness of dusky slave,
Who steadfast stood in those dark days To shield, protect, to feed and save
The loved ones of their Master's fold, And by their faithful service proved
Throughout the four long years of war Their Constance and unselfish love.
And be it known forever more Their Constance and devotion then
Set condemnation on the tongues That slandered all slave-holding men.

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A GAI.AXY OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

And be it known those faithful slaves By their steadfast fidelity,
Won from the South its free guerdon And willing grant of liberty.

Nor will the sons of Southern sires, So chivalrous, so true and brave,
E'er cease to shield, advise and help The offspring of the old-time slave;
But granting them all credit due For what they are, or yet may be,
Let not one shadow of regret E'er dim the fate that made them free.

We took them wild, uncivilized -- Taught them to labor and to think;
Placed in their hands the Book of Life, The fount of truth, that they might drink.
We took them beasts, we made them men, But not co-equals with our race.
God ne'er ordained or will'd that they Should reach that grand exalted place.

Yet never higher compliment To Southern people has been paid
Than by our Northern conquerors, Who by their own enactments said
That those whilom black faithful slaves, Whom we had taught, and they made free,
Were worthy of all civil rights, And with themselves equality.

AND OTHER POEMS.

271

But let that pass, be as it may, We '11 neither censure nor condemn;
But this will say, the negro knows Just where to seek and find a friend.
Not in the East nor in the West, Nor in the North can he yet find
Such generous help, such treatment fair, As here from Southern friends so land.

Nor will the great warm Southern heart Withhold its pardon full and free
From all who may have been to blame For wrongs of inhumanity
Done in those times of heated strife When men with passions overwrought
Did crimes, which, if remembered still Are surely not with vengeful thought.

To darkness of oblivion's tomb Let bitter memories all be cast.
We '11 clasp the hand of former foes, Unheedful of the bitter past.
That they were brave full well we know, And doubtless to convictions true --
They shed their blood on fields of death-- What more could any patriot do ?
But whilst the cycling seasons roll, And time with earth shall still remain,
The Stars and Bars, that fallen flag, So fair, so bright, so free from stain,

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

Shall still survive on history's page, Where naught can dim its lustrous light,
For God above -- the God we love -- Knows that its cause was just and right.

Nor will the brave, chivalric men Whose hands upheld that banner bright,
And wrote their names in deeds sublime On honor's everlasting height,
Be e'er forgot or honored less While centuries shall speed their way,
For earth shall never more behold Another band so grand as they.

Tried by the most exacting rules To mortals known the soul to test
They measured up to every height, And by the world they stand confessed
The bravest, truest, noblest type Of daring knight and cavalier
That ever struck for human rights Or died with such disdain of fear.
Then, whilst on earth there yet survives A remnant of that glorious band,
May God his guardian angels send To guide and lead them by the hand
Past every danger, hardship, strife And safely pilot them the way,
Through the shadowy vale of death To havens of eternal day.

AND OTHER POEMS.

273

Where foes will never more oppress, And hate and strife be never knownj
Where all the just and brave of earth Shall meet around the great whitejthrone,
And there in grand reunion sweet Clasp hands with comrades gone^before
And join in everlasting songs Of praise to God forevennore.

TO I'J7.7JR
Thy pretty face, Thy lovely grace, And all thy winsome charms, With cunning art Allures my heart, And all my hope alarms.
Thy lovely smiles, Thy playful wiles, And thy coquettish airs, Entrance my eyes, Awake my sighs, And fill my breast with cares.
Thy silvery voice, Thy words so choice, When ringing out in songs, Break on my ear, So sweetly, dear, My heart their joys prolongs. 18

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

KICKERS.
Some folks ar born fer kickin', An' seem tu kick fur fun ;
Dey '11 kick er man fer standin' still Den kick if he should run.
Dey '11 kick at ebrything dat 's good, An' kick at what is bad;
Dey '11 kick er man fer havin' fun, Den kick if he gits mad.
Dey kick in winter case its cold, In summer case its hot,
Dey kick at things dey never knew, And kick at things forgot.
Yer can allers find dese kickers At ebry place yer go,
Yer '11 find dem in de meetin' house An' find dem at de show.
Dey is sometimes in de pulpit, An' sometimes in de pew;
But yer '11 allers find em kickin' At ebrything }'er do.
Yer will find 'em 'bout de hotels, An' in de railroad trains;
But yer '11 never find er kicker Who's overstock'd wid brains.
An1 yer '11 notice by obsarvin1 A mighty sartin rule,
Dat de loudest talkin' kicker Am de shabbiest little fool.

AND OTHER POEMS.

275

An' you who 's fond ob smokin' May put dis in yer pipe,
Dat er kicker am er greener Who's seldom ober-ripe.
Fer ebrything but kickin' And fer actin' ob de fool,
An' is much more like er donkey Dan er boss is like er mule.
An' yer cannot help concludin', If yer watch dese kickers right,
Dat dey 's er breed of donkeys Wid er gall dat 's out ob sight.
An' yer '11 also find by watchin' Anuder rule ter fit,
Dat kickers am too cowardly Ter face er man ob grit.
An' now befo* concludin' Ob what Ise had ter say,
I wants ter tell de critics Just ter bray an' kick er way
At anything dey may dislike Ob what dese lines contains,
Fer d; y wasn "t writ ter fertilize Dere unproductive brains.
And I don 't care one fiddlestick For what all kickers say,
I 've got my pay fer writing it, So let 'em kick and bray.

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A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

HAIL ST. PATRICK'S DAY
Hail! all hail, St. Patrick's day ! And hail to Erin's glory,
A matchless land, of heroes grand, Who live in song and story.
Oh, patron saint of wondrous land, Thy name shall be immortal,
And light the way through endless day To Heaven's blessed portal.

Oh, sainted man of wondrous mind, Filled with inspiration,
By Heaven lent and Heaven sent, To civilize a nation.
And where on earth is there a land To-day that does not claim
On history's page some saint or sage --
Some glorious Irish name ?

And hail! all hail i to that green flag, Old Erin's sacred treasure;
A thousand years through strife and tears And bloodshed without measure,
It floats to-day without a stain, An alien though it be,
A tale to tell of freedom's knell, As doth the flag of Lee.

Yes, hail! all hail! to Erin's flag, Exiled though now it be,
In other climes and other times That flag shall yet be free,

AND OTHER POEMS.

277

And float as proudly to the breeze As when unfurled of yore,
For Fates decree it shall be free And float for evermore!
Then hark! oh, hark, ye Irish sons! Behold your country bleeding,
While saints above and sires you love With you her cause are pleading,
And bid you, by the sacred ties Of all that's dear on earth,
To break in twain the tyrant's chain. And free your land of birth.
Then grasp, oh, grasp the glorious flag That bears no blot of shame,
And swear by love of God above And by St. Patrick's name,
That you will ne'er forsake its cause Till it in triumph waves,
That o'er the foam you '11 bear it home, Or bear it to your graves.

NO COMPROMISE FOR ME.
Talk not to me of compromise, I loathe. I hate the very word,
It is the strongest arm of him By whom the fires of hell are stirred.
Old Satan never smiles so bright, Nor darker gloam the frowning skies,
Than when men split the right in twain And call that action "compromise."

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What, tho' my cause shall ne'er prevail I still can bravely bear defeat,
A victor's crown I 'd scorn to wear If I must stoop that crown to greet.
No, let me live and let me die In conscious practice of the right,
My soul unsullied by my vote, No act of mine a home to blight.
What e'er is right, must right remain, What e'er is wrong must still so be,
No policy for sake of gain Can make the right with wrong agree.
Then be your license high or low, Your whiskey dens are still the same,
Like whited sepulchres without, Within there's naught but death and shame.
Tho' dastard dotards humbly bow, And bend the weak, the suppliant knee,
Tho' coward cravens cry for peace, And talk to me of policy,
I yield to nothing short of truth, No sort of compromise I take;
I dare to stand up for the right, Tho' cravens all the right forsake.
And as for me and for my house, What ever lot the fates may plan,
Unmoved, unchanged, unconquered still, With love for God and fellow-man,
We stand resolved to never yield, Nor cease to work, nor cease to fight,
'Till gloriously we 've won the field For God, for justice, and for right.

AND OTHER POEMS.

279

CUBAN ISLE, FAIR CUBAN ISLE.*
Air--" Maryland. My Maryland."
The Spaniard's foot is on thy soil, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle;
Let not oppression longer spoil, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.
We '11 right the wrong of gory stain That rests upon the gallant Maine,
Our martyred dead died not in vain, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.

For though we would not strike for gain, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle,
The starving shall not plead in vain, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.
\Vhen Spaniard's meet us in the field, Our country's flag your rights will shield,
And thou shalt not to tyrant's yield, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.

No longer yield the tyrant's toll, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle;
Thou shalt not bend to his control, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.
America thy sufFring sees, And in her might she now decrees
Thy freedom, Queen of Antilles, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.
* Written for and sung by a young lady on the occasion of a grand public meeting- arranged for the purpose of arousing a patriotic enthu siasm for Cnban freedom at the hands of sympathizing Americans.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

When thou shalt hear our cannon's roar, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle,
Thy suff'ring then will soon be o'er, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.
Behold our ships are at thy door, To drive the tyrant from thy shore
And grant thee freedom evermore, Cuban Isle, Fair Cuban Isle.

THE DEATH OF ADMIRAL SEMMES
Another gallant chieftain Of the grand heroic band,
Who, in the cause of freedom, For our bless'd Southern land,
Stemmed the tide of battle, And won a world's renown,
Has doffed his earthly laurels For Heaven's brighter crown.
My pen is too unworthy To eulogize his name,
For " earth's remotest nations" Are familiar with his fame.
His grand heroic deeds Upon the rolling sea,
Have made his name immortal As that of Robert Lee.
And the waves of old Atlantic, As they break upon the shore,
Will sing in loudest praises His name for evermore;

AND OTHER POEMS.

281

And the proud unfettered winds, As they sweep from pole to pole,.
Will chant in mournful dirges, A requiem to his soul.
While his bright and faithful sword, That could but brook defeat,
Will shine beneath the deep In its silent, safe retreat.
And there 'twill rest forever, Without a blot or stain.
The peerless gem of gems That decks old Ocean's main.

THE GALLANT IMMUNES.
(InKribed to the men of the fifth Refluent, United Suites Volnnteer Infantry, when on their way to Cnba.)
Out now upon the ocean wave Beneath the spreading sail,
Speed on the gallant, noble braves, With hearts that never quail;
Enough to know their country calls And proudly they obey,
Nor pestilence nor leaden balls Can daunt them nor dismay.
True heroes, each with willing heart, A soldier's lot to share,
For country's weal, to do his part, No matter when or where.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

If 'neath the burning tropic sun There lurks his country's foe,
He questions not, nor seeks to shun When duty bids him go.
Their country's flag they proudly bear To fields of victory new,
And sternly swear to keep it there Whatever dangers brew;
Their nation's honor, theirs to keep, And they will guard it well,
E'en tho' simoons around them sweep, Or surge the fiends of hell.

THE GUITAR.
I 'member way back long ago, 'Fore de Yankees sot us free,
A nigger wid an old banjo Was happy as could be;
But looking back to dem ole times, Way back befo' de war,
I wonder how dem niggers did Widout a light guitar.
Wid rattle bones and ole banjo Dey used to play and sing,
And dance befo' de cabin do', And cut de pigeon wing;

AND OTHER POEMS.

283

But dem ole days am pass and gone, De banjo ain't nowhar;
De niggers now mas put on airs And pick de light guitar.
Dese am de hallelujah times, Our work am turned to play ;
We ain't got nuffin' else to do But frolic night and day;
Our corn-field hands are turned to dudes, De wash-women '' ladies " are,
De banjo it am laid aside, While we pick de light guitar.
Each nigger in de barber shop, And ebery hotel coon
Is tramming on de light guitar, And trying to play er tune ;
But by and by dem kinkey heads Will be hustled on de kyars
And bundled off to Mexico, Along wid dere guitars.
For white folks now am gitten tired Ob sich hyfalutin' style,
An' when dere patience gits threadbare Dere blood am gwine ter bile;
And if dem kinkey-headed coons Keeps on wid sich fool airs,
Dey '11 land in h--1 or Mexico, Erlong wid dere guitars.

284

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

A PLEA TO MAYOR LANE.
(For the removal of a hand-organ nuisance).
Please, Mister Lane, do hear my plea And grant alleviation,
I 'm almost dead, my nerves unstrung, My soul's in desperation;
I 've got the spancue and jimjams, My brain is worn to pieces
By that infernal hurdy-gurdy Whose grinding never ceases.

From early morn till late at night That cruel fiend's persistence
In grinding doleful measures out, Makes life unworth existence.
I cannot think, I cannot work, I scarce can get my breath;
Do dynamite the blasted thing Before it proves my death.

Yes, Mister Mayor, heed my woe, And banish, by your orders,
That curse-provoking, damned machine, Beyond earth's outer borders.
Don't let it drive me on to drink To drown my wild despair,
But choke it off and smash its lungs; Oh, hear and grant my prayer.

AKD OTHER POEMS.

285

LIFE.
The dew which comes with stars of night To glisten in the morning's light, An hour sparkles on the grass, And then doth into vapor pass.

The flowers which in the morning bloom And lade the air with sweet perfume, Live not to see the close of day, They lose their charms and pass away.

The bright rainbow which spans the sky, Like an arch of gold on high, A moment lingers to our view And bids us then a slow adieu.

The snow which falls with bounteous flake Upon the bosom of the lake, Quick disappears and leaves no trace Of its ephemeral resting place.

And these are all mere types of life In this dark world of toil and strife: One day we 're born, the next we die, And then within the dust we lie.

But oh, how sweet to feel and know That death is but an end of woe ; For tho" we die upon this earth, Our souls will have a happier birth.

286

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEKOES

SOUTH ROME.*
South Rome, superb, thy mountains grand, Around thee like great sentinels stand, To keep and shield thee from alarm, When storms arise and threaten harm; And from their grand, majestic domes Look down on smiling, peaceful homes; Whilst gushing fountains, pure and bright, Break from thy hills, and in the light Of sunbeams sparkling, ever sweet, Forever cool, doth lave thy feet And yield a glow to every cheek For those who come, sweet health to seek. But not alone thy lovely mountains, Crystal streams and sparkling fountains; These are not half the splendid charms Which thou claspest in thine arms; But fairer far than Sharon's fields, And all the wealth Golconda yields; More precious, too, than all the wine That e 'er was brewed from luscious vine; Yea, fairer far than India's pearls Thy greatest charm--thy pretty girls. God bless them, each and every one, No fairer dwell beneath the sun; Then be thy boast thy daughters fair, Whose loveliness and beauty rare Beggars the power of pen to tell, Each one 's a queen -- a reigning belle, A sweet enchantress be it said, Whose footsteps bless the land they tread.
Rome, Ga.

AND OTHER POEMS.

287

JACK FROST.
Old Jack Frost has come, his footprints are seen O'er broad grassy plains that were lately so green, And, kissed by his lips, his cold icy breath Has left on the forests the shadows of death ; And the few gentle flowers yet left us in bloom Are drooping like angels knelt over a tomb. But the ripe, golden fruit which summer has left Requites us for all of its beauties bereft; And this but illustrates a fact that I 've seen, When loved ones have gone like the summer's bright
green, To Heaven they may go, or to--just where you
please, But the gold that they leave doth all sorrow appease.

LOVE.
AN ACROSTIC.
Love, oh, thou heart-consuming flame, Inspired not by wealth or fame, Zest of every noble claim, Zealous in thy boundless aim, Inspiration taught thy name, Eternal gods thy wealth proclaim.
Purest type from Heaven's mold, On maiden's lips thou art extolled, Wisdom too thy precepts fold, Evinced through life's endearing hold, Rejected not by young or old, Sure all thy strength was never told.

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A GAI.AXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

MY LIFE IS LIKE A SHIP AT SEA.
My life is like a ship at sea, That wrestles with the storm in vain,
Which only mounts one rising swell To be cast down in gulfs again.

My life is like a ship at sea, Which madly stems the driving blast,
But far away from friendly port, Is doomed to fall and sink at last.

My life is like a ship at sea, With compass lost and shivered mast;
Tossed here and there upon the waves, A wreck that tells of tempests past.

My life is like a ship at sea, That soon will sink 'neath the wave,
And, sinking, leave no sign or trace Of its eternal resting grave.

AND OTHER POEMS.

289

GOOD-BYE SONG TO F. L. S.'
Good-bye, good-bye, dear friend, good-bye, God's blessings on thee we implore,
And speak with a sigh, our parting good-bye, As you leave to meet us no more.

Our joys and cares with us you've shared Revealing a friendship sincere,
And now as we part, the grief in each heart Is shown in a shimmering tear.

Warm in our minds we'll ever keep Your memory, so precious and dear,
And time cannot change or ever estrange The love you have won from us here.

Henceforth, afar from us you go, Your duteous paths to pursue,
But oft in our eyes bright tears will arise As we think of your sad "Adieu."

And now, good-bye, a last good-bye, Our hearts with sweet sympathy swell,
Our spirits grow weak, our lips fail to speak-- Dear friend and companion, farewell.

19

290

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HBROBS

TIS THEN I THINK OF YOU.
When mock-birds chant their matin lay, And eastern sky's roseate hue
Proclaims the dawning of the day, 'Tis then--'tis then I think of you.

And when at noontide's sultry hour The sky is one ethereal blue,
And I have sought my shady bower, 'Tis then--'tis then I think of you.
When night its starry robes reveal, And Heaven sheds its glist'ning dew;
When silence o'er the world doth steal; 'Tis then--'tis then I think of you.

And when in sleep I chance to dream, And dream there's naught to cheer my view,
Then, waking, see the moon's bright beam, Tis then--'tis then I think of you.

And thus my joy in life shall be, Whilst memory's chain holds firm and true;
Altho' thy face no more I see, To sweetly--sweetly think of you.

AND OTHER POEMS.

291

LINES TO J. L. T.
Ob, tell me not this lovely world Is all made up of vain deceit,
That love is but a fickle charm, And friendship's nothing but a cheat.

Nor tell me, yet, that man was made For naught but labor and for strife;
That he *s deception in himself, And there's no constancy in life.

But rather tell me if you will That this strong body hath no soul,
And that the God who made the world, Hath not, above it, all control.

But speak not thus in idle jest; No words like these can I believe,
Whilst I can boast one faithful friend Who 'd rather perish than deceive.

A noble, generous friend is he With ready hand for every task;
For anything, at any time, To give, or do, what I may ask.

No sordid craven heart he bears, But best impulses fill his breast;
And when I 've needed most a friend, He's always stood the firmest test

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A GA.I.AJCY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

He 's generous, too, to every fault, And brave as ever crested knight;
Disdaining all the world might say, Content to do what's just and right.
And modest as he's good and brave, He seeks not vain and empty show:
But scorns alike the. flatterer's tongue And dangers of a skulking foe.
Then tell me not that life 's a myth, That sincere friendship is unknown ;
For one such friend as Johnnie is, To live for, is enough alone.

THE MURDERED WIFE.
(A pour woman, the mother of a young1 babe, died in Rome jnst after the prohibition election, and. her father testified that her death was th : result of a beating at the hands of her drunken husband.)
Behold, ye "anti-prohi's," Your work is well begun;
A murdered mother's blood Now stains the cause you won.
A helpless little infant, In piteous hunger cries,
Whilst its mother's bloody form In yonder graveyard lies.
'Twas a husband in his frenzy, By whiskey driven wild,
Who struck that mother down -- Made an orphan of his child.

AND OTHER POEMS.

293

On you my " anti " friends, Who voted " for the sale,"
Must rest the awful crime When justice shall prevail.

For at the Bar of Judgment, When God shall call your name,
You '11 not escape his vengeance, For to you belongs the blame.

'Twas the sanction of your ballot That licensed men to sell,
And the selling brought about That bloody deed of hell.

And thatjpoor murdered mother, At the bar beyond the sky,
Will be a witness 'gainst you When you are called to die.

294

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROBS

A HORRID DREAM.*

My precious babe, my darling boy, Thy father's heart still true to thee,
Vibrates to-night without a joy, Because thy face I do not see.

A sadness dwells within my breast, A sense of gloom I can 't dispel.
An ominous dream that broke my rest Forbodes to me thou art not well.

I saw within my vision wild A raging stream with foaming crest,
And saw thy form, my lovely child, Swept far away upon its breast.

And as I watched thy little arms Held outstretched to me for aid --
My heart grew faint with dread alarms, And paralyzed I stood dismayed.

But when I saw thy body sink Without a hand thy life to save,
My strength returned and o'er the brink I leapt into the rushing wave.
While away from home when my first son was an Infant I had my sleep broken by the foregoing nglj dream, and not belnr able to sleep, arose and wrote those lines, which the little chap has kept nntll now, and insists thai the line* .which he calls " his poem " be Included a part of his book.

AND OTHER POEMS.

295

With giant strength I dashed aside The rising billows in my course ~
And mounting every swelling tide, I plied my strokes with double force
Until I reached the fatal spot At which I saw thee disappear.
Heedless of what might be my lot Without a thought of selfish fear,
I plunged myself beneath the wave Where last I heard thy feeble cry,
Resolved thy precious life to save, Or with thee in the waters die.
Down, down, I sank within the deep, Until I reached the rocks below
O'er which the waters seemed to sweep And searching round me to and fro,
Thy little form at last I found; Then clutching thee unto my breast,
I sprang up with triumphant bound, And poising on the foaming crest,
I held thee in my arms upright To see if there were signs of breath. '
But, oh! I'll ne'er forget the sight : Thy eyes were seeming closed in death.
And none but God will ever know The anguish, of that fitful dream,
When grief unveiled my sight to woe Within that visionary stream.

296

A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

BOOMING BIRMINGHAM.
(Written daring the panic of 1893.)

Now don't it beat the Juba to hear them croakers croak.
They seem to think because er bank has happened tu git broke
That the day of judgment's cum with all its awful gloom,
And that Birmingham and all the world is heading for the tomb;
But I wants to tell 'em now, that in spite of all they say,
That Birmingham is solid, and they 'd better clear the way.

The time is near approaching when things is gwine ter hum,
And we '11 hear a buzz of business like bees within a gum;
An' every cussed croaker who wants tu save his hide
Will have ter git er hustle on or kinder stand erside.
For I feel it in my bones and I breathe it in the air, The clouds are gettin' lighter and the skies aregettin'
fair,
The threatened storm is over, and things ate gettin' bright,
And Birmingham is jest the town that's bound to come out right.

AND OTHER POEMS.

297

For she's built upon a basis of the Giberalter kind, And she's gwine ter keep er goin' like er ship before
the wind; No busted bank can check her, nor nothing else can
kill, Tho' she's been a little crippled by that infernal bill That keeps our honest merchants from collectin' of
their debts, And hobbles every workman in the commissary's
nets. It was made to aid the shylocks, and was helped
erlong by fools, And was made intu er law by the corporation's tools.

But, Birmingham will get thar; she 's er gettin' up her steam,
Her nozzle's pinted upward on fortune's flowing stream,
She's bound tu make her landing, and all who git aboard
Will have a glorious passage and will reap a rich reward.
And there 's not a cussed croaker from Maine to Yubadam
Who will live to see the sinking of our booming Birmingham.

298

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROBS

THE YANKEES ARE COMING.
Coming, coming! the Yankees are coming Down from the North, so cold and benumbing, Coming by steamer, coming by sail. Coming by river, coming by rail,
No foes now to face them, No forts to menace them, But friends who are ready to meet and embrace them.
From the land of Jack Frost, where the snow king reigns,
Obstructing all thrift with his cold, icy chains, Where the lights of Aurora shed a luminous glow And the steps of all progress are fettered by. snow,
To the land of the pines, Where the warm sun shines, And the cotton blooms vie with the bloom of the vines.
Once, when the Yankees came marching this way, They met serried hosts in battle array, Who fought them as only true patriots fight When battling for home, for country and right,
But, beaten by numbers Or cold in death's slumbers, No longer a foeman their pathway encumbers.
No hearts now opposed to the oncoming tide, No sword is upheld to turn them aside; No cannon's loud roar, no trumpet's wild blast -- All issues of hate are buried and past --
No jealousy's pall, No embittering gall -- For the flag of our fathers floats over us all.

AND OTHER POEMS.

299

Onward 1 yes, onward the Yankees now come, Bearing no banners, beating no drum. No heart is opposed to the oncoming tide, No sword is uplifted to turn them aside,
For they come with their skill, Our country to thrill With the musical hum of the factory and mill.

LINES WRli'i'KN ON THE FLY-LEAF OF A BOOK,
PRBSBNTKD TO UZZIB f------.
To her whose curls of ebon hue, Droop o'er shoulders white as snow,
And from whose eyes, like morning dew Light's brightest scintillations glow.
Whose lovely cheeks are soft and fair As ever claimed a poet's thought;
Whose mind is free from every care, Whose soul's with every virtue fraught.
Whose lovely lips, divinely sweet, Are worthy of an angel's kiss.
And in whose heart such virtues meet As fit her for Heaven's courts of bliss.
Whose form of grace outvies the swan, That swims upon the glassy stream,
And whose sweet thoughts from dawn to dawn Are bright and pure as angel's dream.

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A GALAXY OF SOUTHERN HEROES

MY NATIVE LAND.
I truly love my fellow men, My country and my country's flag,
I love her every glade and glen, Her every cliff and mountain crag ;
I love her mountains grand and steep, Her ev'ry hill and ev'ry plain,
I love her lakes and rivers deep, Her forests and her fields of grain,
I love her history and rejoice When e'er Old Glory's folds I see,
Of all the world give me my choice, America land of the free.
What mortal born of any land, Has ever breathed of freedom's air
And has not felt his soul expand With rapture for this country fair ?
Where ev'ry man wherever born, Who on its soil his foot once sets
May lift his head and proudly scorn All kingly crowns and coronets,
And truly feel that wondrous pride Which comes of conscious moral worth,-
' Where rank and caste are set aside And virtue counts for more than birth.
Let others roam if so inclined, And seek beyond the ocean wide
For such attractions there to find As may in foreign lands abide;
Let them go view Mount Hercules, Old /Etna and Choomalari;

AND OTHER POEMS.

301

Go view the Alps and Pyrenees, And climb Mount Everest to the sky,
I envy not those vistas grand, With all their charms the heart to fill
J ust give to me my native land -- Her charms alone my heart can thrill.

Nor envy I nor yet condemn

Those "birds of passage" rich and gay,

Who o'er the ocean love to skim

In search of pleasures far away.

I bid them speed and find content,

No matter what their pleasures be,

But as for me it's my intent

To stay within this country free.

Old England, Germany and France,

Greece, Switzerland and ancient Rome,

May have their lurements to entrance.

But give to me my native home.

^

My ears are closed when others prate Of royalty and regal birth,
For in my heart I loathe and hate AH caste and regal claims on earth.
Free-born in this great country free Beneath Old Glory's spreading folds,
I would not bow or bend the knee To all the kings which Europe holds.
More independent, regal, I Than any king who treads the sod --
A free-born heir of liberty, I bow to none except my God.

302

A GALAXY OP SOUTHERN HEROES

Then give to me my native land, For lands afar I do not sigh,
Of all the world the best and grand Is here beneath my native sky.
Our men the bravest of the brave, Our women fairest of the fair,
Our flag of all the flags that wave, The grandest is beyond compare.
Then here's to thee, my native land, Long may thy flag triumphant fly,
Beneath its folds, so glorious, grand, Here let me live, here let me die.

AND OTHER POBMS.

303

DRIFTING AWAY.
Drifting, drifting every day, Down life's current, drifting away; Kings and slaves -- the grave and gay, All on board are drifting away.

Both saints and sinners all the same, The men unknown, and men of fame; All the cowards, and all the brave, Are drifting onward to the grave.

Nor love nor wealth their course can stay, Not even a year, nor yet a day; While some drift fast, drift others slow, But drifting onward all must go.

Youth and beauty cannot avail,

'

Nor earthly powers can aught prevail;

No priestly prayers, nor precious gift

Can stay the tide on which we drift.

Hear that poor mother how she pleads, With broken, wounded heart that bleeds, For little loved one gone to rest From its weak mooring at her breast.

And hear the father's anguish wild, In mourning for that precious child; But father's grief nor mother's pain Can call their loved one back again.

304

A GAXAXY OP SOUl-HERN HEKOS

Mark yon pale cheek with hectic flush, Where passion once was wont to blush, And all love's fervency portray, Now soon in death to drift away.

What tho' her lover's heart should break, What tho' he 'd die for her dear sake; His breaking heart no anchor proves, To stay the tide on which she moves.

The young, the old, the high, the low, All drifting down this stream must go; 'Neath spreading sails of deathly pall This voyage must be made by all.

The sea to which we thither trend, With every foe and every friend, Is that dark, shoreless, boundless sea, The dark, unknown eternity!