War Poetry of the South | Page 6

the fathers in the children liveth yet;?Liveth still the olden blood which dimmed the foreign bayonet; And the fathers fought for freedom, and the sons for freedom fight; Their God was with the fathers--and is still the God of right!
Behold! the skies are darkened! A gloomy cloud hath lowered! Shall it break before the sun of peace, or spread in rage impowered? Shall we have the smile of friendship, or shall it be the blow? Shall it be the right hand to the friend, or the red hand to the foe?
In peacefulness we wish to live, but not in slavish fear;?In peacefulness we dare not die, dishonored on our bier.?To our allies of the Northern land we offer heart and hand, But if they scorn our friendship--then the banner and the brand!
Honor to the new-born nation! and honor to the brave!?A country freed from thraldom, or a soldier's honored grave. Every step shall be contested; every rivulet run red,?And the invader, should he conquer, find the conquered in the dead.
But victory shall follow where the sons of freedom go,?And the signal for the onset be the death-knell of the foe; And hallowed shall the spot be where he was so bravely met, And the star which yonder rises, rises never more to set.
The Irrepressible Conflict.
Tyrt?us.--_Charleston Mercury._
Then welcome be it, if indeed it be?The Irrepressible Conflict! Let it come;?There will be mitigation of the doom,?If, battling to the last, our sires shall see?Their sons contending for the homes made free?In ancient conflict with the foreign foe!?If those who call us brethren strike the blow,?No common conflict shall the invader know!?War to the knife, and to the last, until?The sacred land we keep shall overflow?With blood as sacred--valley, wave, and hill,?Or the last enemy finds his bloody grave!?Aye, welcome to your graves--or ours! The brave?May perish, but ye shall not bind one slave.
The Southern Republic.
By Olivia Tully Thomas, of Mississippi.
In the galaxy of nations,?A nation's flag's unfurled,?Transcending in its martial pride?The nations of the world.?Though born of war, baptized in blood,?Yet mighty from the time,?Like fabled phoenix, forth she stood--?Dismembered, yet sublime.
And braver heart, and bolder hand,?Ne'er formed a fabric fair?As Southern wisdom can command,?And Southern valor rear.?Though kingdoms scorn to own her sway,?Or recognize her birth,?The land blood-bought for Liberty?Will reign supreme on earth.
Clime of the Sun! Home of the Brave!?Thy sons are bold and free,?And pour life's crimson tide to save?Their birthright, Liberty!?Their fertile fields and sunny plains?That yield the wealth alone,?That's coveted for greedy gains?By despots-and a throne!
Proud country! battling, bleeding, torn,?Thy altars desolate;?Thy lovely dark-eyed daughters mourn?At war's relentless fate;?And widow's prayers, and orphan's tears,?Her homes will consecrate,?While more than brass or marble rears?The trophy of her great.
Oh! land that boasts each gallant name?Of JACKSON, JOHNSON, LEE,?And hosts of valiant sons, whose fame?Extends beyond the sea;?Far rather let thy plains become,?From gulf to mountain cave,?One honored sepulchre and tomb,?Than we the tyrant's slave!
Fair, favored land! thou mayst be free,?Redeemed by blood and war;?Through agony and gloom we see?Thy hope--a glimmering star;?Thy banner, too, may proudly float,?A herald on the seas--?Thy deeds of daring worlds remote?Will emulate and praise!
But who can paint the impulse pure,?That thrills and nerves thy brave?To deeds of valor, that secure?The rights their fathers gave??Oh! grieve not, hearts; her matchless stain,?Crowned with the warrior's wreath,?From beds of fame their proud refrain?Was "Liberty or Death!"
"Is There, Then, No Hope for the Nations?"
Charleston Courier.
Is there, then, no hope for the nations??Must the record of Time be the same??And shall History, in all her narrations,?Still close each last chapter in shame??Shall the valor which grew to be glorious,?Prove the shame, as the pride of a race:?And a people, for ages victorious,?Through the arts of the chapman, grow base?
Greek, Hebrew, Assyrian, and Roman,?Each strides o'er the scene and departs!?How valiant their deeds 'gainst the foeman,?How wondrous their virtues and arts!?Rude valor, at first, when beginning,?The nation through blood took its name;?Then the wisdom, which hourly winning?New heights in its march, rose to Fame!
How noble the tale for long ages,?Blending Beauty with courage and might!?What Heroes, what Poets, and Sages,?Made eminent stars for each height!?While their people, with reverence ample.?Brought tribute of praise to the Great,?Whose wisdom and virtuous example,?Made virtue the pride of the State!
Ours, too, was as noble a dawning,?With hopes of the Future as high:?Great men, each a star of the morning,?Taught us bravely to live and to die!?We fought the long fight with our foeman,?And through trial--well-borne--won a name,?Not less glorious than Grecian or Roman,?And worthy as lasting a fame!
Shut the Book! We must open another!?O Southron! if taught by the Past,?Beware, when thou choosest a brother,?With what ally thy fortunes are cast!?Beware of all foreign alliance,?Of their pleadings and pleasings beware,?Better meet the old snake with defiance,?Than find in his charming a snare!
The Fate