E 
 
 672. 
 075- 
 

 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 GEN. U. S. GRANT. 
 
 PVlRS. AZALIA E.vOSGOOD 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 9, line 1, no should be omitted. 
 
 " 9, " 25, implse should read impulse. 
 
 11, " 4, should read upon the valiant. 
 
 " 13, " 17, tiding should read tidings. 
 
 u 16, " 3, to should read unto. 
 
 " 17, " 17, assign should read assigns. 
 
 44 35, 14, him should read Grant. 
 
 " 36, " 8, scrol should read scroll. 
 
 u 39, " 21, sremed should read seems. 
 
 " 39, 23, explicit should read implicit. 
 
 " 40, " 2, a should read on. 
 
 " 40, " 17, lighning should read lightning. 
 
 " 40, " 21, should read which waxelh like unto. 
 
CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Page 9, line 1, should read 
 
 Now paid his last respects nor could do more, 
 Page 9, line 25, should read 
 
 With sudden impulse to partake it more, 
 Page 11, line 4, should read 
 
 For charge is made upon the valiant row 
 Page 13, line 17, should read 
 
 While all our land with joyous tidings teems 
 Canto II., line 6, should read 
 
 Is by the force of circumstance affected ; 
 Page 15, line 3, should read 
 
 Like merest drudge he turns unto wood-hauling, 
 Page 17, line 3, should read 
 
 Wait no instructions from the better versed, 
 Page 17, line 17, should read 
 
 To gallant soldier he assigns command 
 Canto IV., line 13, should read 
 
 And drowsy conscience, so great was their number, 
 Canto V., line 1, should read 
 
 The scroll seems welked to a battered chart 
 Canto V"., line 12, should read 
 
 The shaft of critic may ne er disarm ; 
 Page 35, line 14, should read 
 
 By lifting Grant to station high. 
 Canto VIII., line 8, should read 
 
 (Athwart the lightened scroll,) 
 Canto IX., line 21, should read 
 
 At juncture when to fail seems greivous wrong, 
 Canto IX., line 23, should read 
 
 Thus proving strength of their implicit trust ; 
 Page 40, line 2, should read 
 
 Tis done! Each failure causeth new resolve 
 Page 40, line 17, should read 
 
 In twain by lightning of Atlanta s fray. 
 Page 40, line 21, should read 
 
 Which waxeth like unto a sheet of flame 
 Page 40, line 23, should read 
 
 Lo ! In chimeric fashion it doth fade 
 Page 53, line 2o, should read 
 
 Do thus renew their elsewise flagging power 
 Page 53, line 27, should read 
 
 Doth quaintly span the zenith, is inscribed 
 


IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 GEN. U. S. GRANT. 
 
 MRS. AZALIA E. OSGOOD. 
 
 PORTLAND, OREGON: 
 PRESS OF GEO. H. HIMES, 169-171 SECOND ST 
 
 1886. 
 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Introduction 
 
 Ulysses S. Grant 3 
 
 Vision on the Mount 5 
 
 Bock of Ages 41 
 
 Requiem 42 
 
 The Last Tribute 43 
 
 A Voice from Afar ._ 50 
 
 O 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Not " mightier than the sword " which once refused, 
 Yet found its way unto the Nation s heart, 
 
 And proved itself to be so wisely used 
 That it became, in time, a vital part 
 
 Of earth s vast magnet is this trembling u pen " ; 
 
 Nay, nor so mighty w r ill it e er become. 
 A little while t will struggle on, and then 
 
 Its trace of utmost effort will succumb 
 
 To learn-ed phrase of sage philosophy. 
 
 Which hath so little part in woman s life, 
 
 That all her paths seem blocked by sophistry, 
 Her eveiy action with emotion rife. 
 
 Yet, t is with all a woman s yearning trust, 
 I proffer what my woman s heart impelled, 
 
 Till, forth from desert waste of mortal dust, 
 A spring of " sentiment " hath purely welled. 
 
 O, may its " little drops " swell crystal fount, 
 So swiftly forming in the Nation s soul; 
 
 Its gathered gems add lustre to amount, 
 That rears a monument from perfect goal. 
 
 AZALIA E. OSGOOD. 
 
 ASTORIA, OREGON, Feb. 1, 1886. 
 
ULYSSES S- GRANT. 
 
 Born April 27, 1822. 
 Died July 23, 1885. 
 
 Lo ! all the world is in monrning to-day; 
 
 Nature herself seemeth sad-faced and tender; 
 Even the song-bird has silenced its lay, 
 
 As if, by instinct, mute tribute to render. 
 
 No one will wonder that silence doth reign; 
 
 No one will ask that the hush shall be broken; 
 Each heart accepteth its portion of pain; 
 
 Sorrow so vast hath no need to be spoken. 
 
 From the deep soul of the Nation evolves 
 
 Grief so profound, so unique, so o erpowering, 
 
 Round which the world s " common sorrow" revolves, 
 E en till u the birds of the air " nestle cowering. 
 
 Flags at half-mast on the land and the sea; 
 
 City and hamlet and broad-breasted ocean, 
 Family circles in homes of the free, 
 
 With one accord now evince their devotion 
 
 To the brave Hero just passed to his rest. 
 
 Dead unto men, yet supremely immortal; 
 Name, deeds, and birth-place, futurity -blest, 
 
 From History s page unto Heaven s own portal. 
 
 For as time winnows with mellowing hand, 
 Hearts will yield even more tender emotion 
 
 Unto the valor-fraught deeds of the land; 
 Unto the winner of highest promotion, 
 
TTLYSSP:S s. GRANT. 
 
 Tnto the victor, the hero, the man; 
 
 I nto the cause he so nobly defended; 
 Lending such marvelous zeal to the van, 
 
 That, like a shock, through the ranks it extended. 
 
 Words are as naught of his courage to tell; 
 
 Grant, " the exalted " still much more remaineth 
 Warrior and chieftain? peacemaker as well; 
 
 He who but now crowning victory gaineth. 
 
 Strains that are martial, soul-stirring, sublime; 
 
 Music that e er will in memory linger; 
 Notes that will echo full solemn with time; 
 
 Chords that bear touching with reverent finger: 
 
 These are the sounds which should fall on the ear, 
 Thrilling with awe while in harmony blending 
 
 With sighing sob, nay, with each manly tear 
 As the vast concourse ol people is wending, 
 
 With muffled tread to the beat of the drum, 
 
 On toward the spot which all men will remember, 
 
 There the soul s temple to sadly succumb, 
 There the remains of the great to surrender. 
 
 Thence to turn homeward with pondering mind, 
 Dwelling in awe o er omnipotent wonders; 
 
 Seeking the key which none ever may find, 
 
 Till cleaving soul from its mortal clay sunders. 
 
 Ah, let us hope that as many may meet 
 
 Eound u the white throne "-Patriarchal and vernal 
 As have strewn roses beneath the tired feet 
 
 Of the world-hero where rest is eternal. 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT, 
 
CANTO I. 
 
 Like swarthy statue wrought of tawny bronze, 
 
 He stood in dark attire upon the mount; 
 A human form, with bowed uncovered head, 
 
 From which flowed backward waves of raven hair 
 His attitude was that of rapt despair. 
 He mourned the loss ot noble friend late dead, 
 
 Nor lifted piercing eyes, as fain to count 
 The spangled stars which queenly evening dons; 
 
 Nor queried if the vast array comprised 
 A gleam that made the pulse of Heaven quicken, 
 
 Like meteor that hath lately been baptized 
 In lurid furnace where death-shadows thicken. 
 
 He deemed lie shared the multitude s deep grief- 
 Save that more poignant had his own become, 
 Since isolated through indulged desire 
 
 To stand alone on Mt. McGregor s brow, 
 And dwell in thought on sufPring over now, 
 Which had been bathed in Heroism s lire, 
 In that its victim bore in anguish dumb 
 The wage of war, till death had brought relief; 
 
 Nor turned his gaze rebellionsly to-ward 
 The elements along the line extending. 
 
 But strove tor human and divine accord 
 When he foresaw the weary struggle ending. 
 
8 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 J T were this thought, chiefly, which had held firm place 
 
 In mind of this lone mortal when he came, 
 By night, to pay a lingering farewell 
 
 To hallowed spot, where interchange were made 
 Of weakened force, and glory ne er to fade; 
 Where soul were wakened by shrill trumpet knell, 
 
 To sense of bliss, and to far greater fame 
 Than any won in life s prodigious race. 
 
 With but to draw exhilarating breath, 
 And in bright lieu of deadly sabres gleaming, 
 Forevermore dispelled the thought of death, 
 By guidons of the saintly hosts outstreaming. 
 
 He wist not as in solitude he stood, 
 
 Of aspect grave and venerative mood, 
 That ere another hour should have been told 
 A strange event into his life would come, 
 Most mighty in its comprehensive sum ; 
 That like a map of wonder would unfold 
 
 The substance for mature reflection s food, 
 Which all men would, in time, acknowledge good, 
 
 And visit on his modest head unsought, 
 A shower of timely plaudits, reinstating 
 
 What, through clear lens, to vital life were brought, 
 When in the world s great mart t were fast abating. 
 
 He did not ken that aught was now in store, 
 
 Save a depressed, unbroken train of thought, 
 From which, when rallied, he, with solemn stride, 
 Would take his place among the horde of men 
 He counted friends return to duty, when 
 Sweet satisfaction would, perchance, abide 
 Within his breast, since he had, as he ought, 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 9 
 
 Now paid his last respects, nor could do no more. 
 E en though the promptings of a loyal heart 
 Would bid him rank himself continuous debtor, 
 
 He yet believed that he had done his part, 
 And hoped, through buried grief, to be made better. 
 
 While thus he stood in meditation deep, 
 
 Lo! there appeared within his downcast view, 
 A weird, attractive, and peculiar light, 
 
 Whose semblance he could liken unto naught 
 Save to a glowing camp-fire which had caught 
 The silver reflex of approaching night, 
 
 When crescent moon presides and stars are few; 
 When Nature floods the earth with one vast sweep 
 
 Of tintless glory, ere she landscape flanks 
 With blentings which no human eye may measure, 
 
 Nor waits the coming of a vote of thanks, 
 Ere yielding up to night her short-lived treasure. 
 
 T were of a truth such light as ne er before 
 His mortal vision keen had feasted on, 
 And yet for him no terrors it possessed, 
 
 For, like a magic beacon, did it seem, 
 An unlooked-for, but more than welcome beam, 
 Which all his soul with valor did invest, 
 And prompted introspection, till anon, 
 With sudden implse to partake it more, 
 
 He stepped within its close converging lines 
 And sat him down amid Etruscan billows 
 
 Whose flaming pile, fantastic garland twines 
 Around the massive jet black head it pillows. 
 
10 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 And now those search ing eves are gently raised, 
 
 As if the boat <>J bmtflictiort brought 
 Sweet reassurance mid still sweeter hope 
 
 Of some glad wonder soon to he revealed [healed 
 Through which deep wound of sorrow may he 
 And swathed, betimes, in Balm of Gilead cope, 
 
 Till such complete diversion hath been wrought 
 That all the ways of wisdom shall be praised 
 
 When banished every gloomy thought of death, 
 Which, lost to view behind recorded glory 
 
 The mind at pace w r ith swift, enraptured breath, 
 Must concentrate its force upon the story. 
 
 T were come ! Already magic scroll of light 
 Is half unfurled before his yearning view, 
 And scenic outlines sw r iftly taking shape, 
 
 Which promise give of thrilling acts in store, 
 Of which he hath not seen the like before ; 
 But which cognizance yet do not escape 
 
 For full accounts in books to life quite true 
 He hath perused with vivid mental sight, 
 
 Since later dramas brought into relief, 
 The wondrous valor of strategic actor 
 
 In life s great conflict, till a patriot chief, 
 He rightly ranked the Nation s own prime factor. 
 
 The figures Eighteen Forty-Seven flash 
 
 With iridescent sparkle, while beneath, 
 In ruby flame, September Eighth appears 
 On the expansive and illumined scroll, 
 Which still before his; vision doth unroll. 
 Till presently he din of battle hears 
 And likewise notes an aureolus wreath 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 1 
 
 In contrast to the smoke which follows crash 
 
 Of firearms, as, advancing on the foe, 
 The battle of Molino del Iley rages 
 
 For charge is made upon valiant row 
 As fierce as e.Vr were told on History s pages. 
 
 And foremost mid that storm of iron hail 
 
 One form advances with undaunted will, 
 With eye whose gleam betrays intrepid light 
 
 And features blanched through other cause than fear 
 His deeds inspire his followers with cheer- 
 While on they press into the thick of fight. 
 Despite the volley from the rugged hill; 
 Still on, till breastworks prove of small avail 
 
 A Hero, yet a stranger unto men. 
 Save to the few who view with admiration 
 
 His tranquil mien and nobie bearing, when 
 Their words of praise bring joy, but not elation. 
 
 T were past. The smoke of battle now doth roll 
 
 Far upward till no vestige there remains, 
 And from the scene of action have withdrawn 
 
 The hosts which did in deadly combat meet; 
 But, soon again, the drum doth loudly beat! 
 Nay, scarcely is the date of battle gone, 
 
 Ere warfare all its certainty regains. 
 For now, upon the panoramic scroll, 
 
 The name Chapultepec, mid salient fire, 
 Leaps into view, ablaze with pendant jewels. 
 
 Like constellation decking ardent lyre 
 With breath ^Eolian, choked by scorching fuels. 
 
12 VISION ON TIIK .MOl XT. 
 
 And now, again, the Hero leads the way 
 
 In stolid inarch unto the castle walls, 
 As if unconscious of his whereabout, 
 
 Or, that his deeds than others are more brave, 
 But takes the part of battle s humblest slave, 
 While charging on the enemy s redoubt; 
 
 Nor heeds the import of the whizzing balls 
 Which, every moment, noble comrades slay, 
 
 Till it would seem his turn of need were next. 
 Yet does not fail betimes his troops to rally, 
 Who fight till flees the enemy perplexed, 
 When welkin echoes storm the woody valley. 
 
 T is done! Again the smoke has cleared away, 
 
 Yet not for long soon follow shifting scenes, 
 In each of which the Hero holds his own 
 For noble daring and for brave command, 
 For clear, calm head, and for unswerving hand, 
 For self-reliance firm as e er were shown, 
 
 And for obedience to the will that means 
 Through his performance, in each fresh affray, 
 
 To add another to the victories won, 
 And lessen bloodshed through swift termination 
 
 Of confidence, till every foernan sgun 
 Shall tremble with the force of consternation. 
 
 Scene follows scene in quick succession now, 
 And ever bright upon the magic scroll, 
 The name Ulysses hath a look sublime- 
 Fringed with broad halo of a changeful line. 
 Like morning sun inf US-CM! with morning dew, 
 And breathed upon by grand Homeric rhyme, 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 1 
 
 A name that swells the list on Honor s roll, 
 Like brilliant token ol recorded vow, 
 
 Till Mexico forgets to longer boast, 
 But hushed by all the powers of trepidation, 
 
 Allows the Stars and Stripes to drink a toast 
 O er head bowed low in deep humiliation. 
 
 The last grand scene of foreign series fades, 
 
 Till scarcely naught is left upon the scroll, 
 Save porcelain bumpers, which were late supplied 
 With nectar, rich as Cleopatra s wine, 
 In which full lustre of the pearl did shine; 
 A draught reflecting wisdom s star to guide. 
 
 The lion-hearted, e en from pole to pole, 
 In hours of peril, through the deepest shades, 
 
 But whose sole mission for the present seems 
 The ensign of the brave to be immersing, 
 
 AVhile all our land with joyous tiding teems 
 Of ended war and regiments dispersing. 
 
 Thus closeth first degree of mental view; 
 
 Our glorious banner, faded though it be, 
 Hath left its imprint on the wondrous scroll, 
 As ever proudly waving, to and fro, 
 It came in contact with the fiery glow 
 Which sipped the moisture late from flowing bowl, 
 
 That had imbued the flag renownedly free, 
 With triumph s nectar clear as crystal dew, 
 
 Till standard rose against the blanking space, 
 On background where resplendent tints were vieing, 
 
 Peace is the welcome word his dark eyes trace 
 Neath Victory s steadfast signal calmly flying. 
 
CANTO II. 
 
 Ere long the scroll assumes a steady brightness, 
 As pledge of peace enshrined in radiant whiteness, 
 Where dove of snowy plumage lightly flutters, 
 Nor dreameth that a distant war-cloud mutters. 
 
 The Hero by the world unrecollected, 
 Is, by force of circumstance, affected; 
 And now behold him at his post of duty, 
 Despite the claims of wifely love and beauty. 
 
 New scenes! In Golden land aw hile he tarries, 
 Then to remote frontier his sword he carries, 
 In meek submission to his avocation, 
 And to the will commanding change of station. 
 
 Behold, a conflict in his breast now rages 
 Which every faculty of mind engages; 
 Shall he resign his soldierly position, 
 Or leave a wife in widow-like condition? 
 
 Tis o er his resignation he hath tendered, 
 
 His young ambition quietly surrendered ; 
 
 And now upon a farm behold him settled, 
 
 With self so curbed that none would deem him mettled. 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 15 
 
 But yet, withal, to prosper he is eager, 
 And as his income from the farm is meagre, 
 Like merest drudge, he turns to wood-hauling, 
 Nor murmurs once that he has missed his calling. 
 
 But, though the scroll, like a translucent curtain, 
 Appears to make his checkered fate uncertain; 
 Yet, glimpses of the inner man reflected) 
 A light which past and future scenes connected). 
 
 As flash of lightning in the cloudless heavens, 
 Doth bring to mind the power above that leavens 
 Those glimpses now suggest a silent wafter 
 Of mighty changes soon to follow after. 
 
 Y^et, all unflecked, the scene that next appeareth, 
 With courage which the bond of duty cheereth, 
 The Hero, loving still the starry banner, 
 Doth rank among his fellow-men, a tanner. 
 
 The scene upon the scroll is swiftly flading, 
 While thunder-clouds the air are fast pervading; 
 Now, warlike symbols, whose dread name is legion 
 Lo! white-winged Peace hath flown to other region. 
 
CANTO III. 
 
 A crimson tide is surging o er the scroll 
 
 With marked significance; anon is formed 
 
 The opening scene in Belmont s bloody fray, 
 Soon deadly missile mounted steed doth slay. 
 On foot the Hero leads till camp is stormed, 
 Nor pauses, save his brave troops to extol ; 
 
 While the opponents flee in wild dismay. 
 When final scene he views with aspect calm, 
 
 Till smouldering heap late tents and baggage lay, 
 Fired by the torch which served as victor s palm. 
 
 An intervening space, and now the scene 
 Is one of wild confusion ; and the name 
 
 Fort Donelson gleams far above the place 
 Where pallid men are running Terror s race; 
 Each for himself, forgetful now of fame 
 For love of life doth love of country wean 
 
 While Duty s bond a fragile myth becomes 
 In scores of minds that hitherto saw not, 
 
 With naked vision, war which sense benumbs; 
 Hence, reft of courage, field and road they dot, 
 
 Like flocks of blue-jays startled at sunrise, 
 By sharp reports, to find their numbers less; 
 To witness in their very midst grim Death 
 And blood-shed wrought as t were by lightning s 
 breath ; 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 Too scared to soar, nor instinct may repress; 
 As fledglings, taken thus by harsh surprise, 
 
 Wait no instruction from the better versed. 
 Swift panting breasts, denoting fear profound, 
 
 In anxious flight, each striving to be first 
 None can do more than lightly skim the ground. 
 
 On to the rescue ! Hero now doth speed, 
 Nor deigns to rally panic-stricken men. 
 
 But turns he calmly toward the noble braves, 
 Who will, if need be, sleep in soldier graves; 
 Nor hesitate a single instant, when 
 His practiced eye di covereth their need, 
 
 And his firm tone commandeth, once for all, 
 That tierce assault be made without delay, 
 Which shall appearance of defeat recall, 
 And with God s help, insure victorious day. 
 
 To gallant soldier he assign command 
 
 Of two brigades, which take the double-quick, 
 And hurry forward, eager for the fray ; 
 While he to dauntless warrior speeds away, 
 And bids him three brave regiments to pick, 
 And for the onset hold them well in hand. 
 
 T is done ! The mighty column now is formed ! 
 Their fearless leader hastens to the front, 
 
 And with that zeal which every heart hath warmed, 
 Lifts cap upon his sword, and takes the brunt 
 
 Of warfare in the undismayed advance 
 
 Of towering column, surging up the heights, 
 
 Unto the bulwarks, whence wide ridge of tire 
 Might well suggest a kindled funeral pyre; 
 
18 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 Yet which, withal, no whit their courage blights. 
 Its heated breath seems valor to enhance 
 
 Rent ranks are closed, unmindful of the, dead; 
 The wounded moan in agony unheard; 
 
 Blood-boltered path they resolutely tread - 
 Each heaving breast with fatal ire is stirred 
 
 As on they rush, despite the rough ascent, 
 
 Thick strewn with havoc, clogging toilsome way, 
 Through oozing and coagulating gore, 
 Of those whose fate it were to inarch before, 
 And form the carnage in that brave array ; 
 On to avenge the sturdy life-blood spent, 
 
 By weapons, in the hands of mortal foe, 
 Whose ravage numbers full two thousand men : 
 
 Stung into fury, upward still they go, 
 Mid leaden fire, till summit s raught. nor ken 
 
 How many shall be spared to tell the tale, 
 Of awful conflict they believe in store, 
 
 As every man his musket now doth raise, 
 And level with unerring aim, one blaze 
 As if infernal flood had broken o er, 
 And Stygian waters deluged all the vale 
 
 For one brief moment. Ha ! they boldly spring 
 Upon the ramparts, over them ! and now, 
 
 The smoky air with their loud shouts doth ring, 
 As cheer on cheer ascendeth from the brow 
 
 Of the intrenchment, which doth overlook 
 Discomfiture within the Fort below, 
 
 Where bleeding hearts are probed unto the core 
 At sight of Union standard floating o er 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 1 U 
 
 The works they deemed impervious to foe. 
 They read, as it were written in a book, 
 
 The issue of the morrow; and resolve, 
 Mid gloaming, to make sure of swift escape ? 
 
 And to this end they speedily absolve 
 One and another from command ! Agape 
 
 With wonder, flavored well with wrath and scorn, 
 The doomed subordinates behold them flee; 
 While bitter rancor rises in eac h breast, 
 That they are subject still to stern behest 
 But those of higher rank themselves may free, 
 Nor share the fate of prisoners forlorn, 
 
 To whom no choice is left except to raise 
 The flag of truce with morning s rising sun, 
 Which lowly signal greeting Federal gaze 
 Will tally to their cause, " great victory won" 
 
 The night has fled; the keen and wintry air 
 Is fraught with particles of glistening frost, 
 As troops assemble at the roll of drum 
 To well prepare for the contest to come 
 One thought to take the Fort at any cost 
 Each soul inspires with will to do and dare; 
 
 Lo, even now, impatiently they wait 
 The order which shall bid them onward move. 
 
 Hist what doth now their spirits so elate 
 That cheers burst forth their joyful state to prove? 
 
 Ah, tis the white flag waving o er the works 
 They had but now intended soon to storm; 
 
 What wonder, then, that cheers are brought to bear, 
 E en though their echoes add to the despair 
 
20 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 Of thousands, who within the fort now swartn 
 Like bees, whose ruler royal guidance shirks : 
 
 In disconcerted clusters they await 
 Return of messenger but lately sent, 
 
 Whose coining will decide their present fate 
 Alas! of hope, more empty than he went. 
 
 He conies and soon doth stoic terms report: 
 Surrender must be swift and absolute; 
 
 Thus sayeth one who hath no ear for quirks; 
 Who, in brief space, will move upon the works, 
 If there be further signs of a dispute. 
 T were over now surrendered is the Fort. 
 
 Behold, the light is changing on the scroll 
 Like molten gold its surface now appears, 
 
 While topaz gems the name of Grant extol 
 Gainst emeralds forming tidal waves of cheers. 
 
CANTO IV. 
 
 O er the bright surface, less dazzling but clearer, 
 Flush of the Iris and Passion Flowers play, 
 Seen on the scroll, as in amethyst mirror, 
 Federal army now stretches away, 
 Like to broad angle of ocean and bay, 
 
 Federal army now stretches away. 
 Waiting approach of the troops drawing nearer, 
 
 Which they expect will have joined them to-day 
 True to the cause that hath hourly grown dearer, 
 Federal army now stretches away. 
 
 Deep lettered name like a vision of slumber. 
 
 Fraught with the bygone* of wearisome day, 
 And drowsy conscience, so great were their number. 
 That rest was sought without pausing to pray 
 Even as dreams wield a penitent sway, 
 
 That rest was sought without pausing to pray 
 So quiv ring shadows make tenfold more sombre, 
 
 Name and the import those letters portray, 
 As sleep with nightmare of grief doth encumber, 
 
 That rest was sought without pausing to pray 
 
 Thus on the scroll e en as pebbles may ruffle 
 
 Lake of calm beauty and darken fair stream, 
 Or as black cloud may a pearly sky muffle, 
 
 So doth the fret-work of Shiloh now seem : 
 
 Trembling and poising like thoughts in a dream 
 
 So doth the fret -work of Shiloh now seem. 
 
*22 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 Changed is the scroll, like to curtain of duffle. 
 Hidden from view is the amethyst beam, 
 Misname of rest in continuous shuffle, 
 
 So doth the fret-work of Shiloh now seem. 
 
 Ah, not for naught is this ill-omened waver, 
 
 Tis the foredoom of artillery s roar; 
 Like the unheard but perceptible quaver 
 
 Of panther growl, for its prey held in store: 
 Each creeping gloam doth partake more and more 
 
 Of panther growl, for its prey held in store. 
 For on the scroll groweth each moment graver, 
 Weird gloomy outlines fast tracing it o er, 
 With flitting shadows that chillingly savor 
 
 Of panther growl, for its prey held in store. 
 
 Now. as by shock, that all weak lines adjustetli, 
 
 Rigid the scroll doth become, as the crash 
 Tells how the soldier for soldier blood lusteth, 
 
 Whetting the tooth of revenge for deep gash: 
 Strewn is the scroll with mortality s brash, 
 
 Whetting the tooth of revenge for deep gash. 
 While mangled forms the field s surface encrusteth, 
 
 Reeky nay red is the bayonet s flash, 
 Grazing the hand that so ruthlessly thrusteth, 
 
 Whetting the tooth of revenge for deep gash. 
 
 O! the dread horror, the anguish, the wailing, 
 
 Yivid as life fraught with death, on the scroll ! 
 Ears, partly dulled to the fury prevailing, 
 
 Listing a call not the drum s wonted roll: 
 
 (Ah, would the cold lap of earth might console,) 
 
 Listing a call not the drum V wonted roll. 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 23 
 
 No pall will cover the features fast paling; 
 
 No spoken eulogy brave deeds extol; 
 Wild is the dirge now those faint ears assailing, 
 
 Listing a call not. the drum s wonted roll. 
 
 Pale, stern and silent, yet actively eager, 
 
 Rideth the Hero midst thick of the fight, 
 While unto others his chances seem meagre. 
 
 One motto, Victory, ever in sight. 
 His is a will that no weapon may smite, 
 
 One motto, Victory^ ever in sight. 
 E en though the enemy s host doth beleaguer. 
 Turns he full calmly to left and to right; 
 Prompt are his orders as those of intriguer, 
 One motto, Victory, ever in sight. 
 
 True to himself, though, of need, heavy-hearted, 
 
 Bides he the coming of adequate aid. 
 Which at his summons hath speedily started 
 
 On a forced march it ere long shall have made, 
 Filled with a spirit no effort may jade 
 
 On a forced march it erelong shall have made. 
 Swift to the rescue, from rest lately parted, 
 
 Strides toward the conflict efficient u brigade " 
 Army, to succor the well -nigh thwarted, 
 
 On a forced march it ere long shall have made. 
 
 Ha, t is arrived in last hour of depression; 
 
 Aye, and the sight doth lend courage and hope; 
 Changed is the prospect of utter oppression. 
 
 Turned is the current of death-laden scope : 
 Fresh for the onset with foemen to cope. 
 
 Turned is the current of death-h.den scope. 
 
24 VISION ON THE MOT NT. 
 
 Finn is the tread of unbroken procession, 
 
 Bearing mid war-clouds a semblance of lope 
 On to regain of encampment possession: 
 
 Turned is the current of death-laden scope. 
 
 Noble, indeed, is the service they render; 
 
 Heedless of danger they steadily sweep 
 Back, ever backward, each foremost offender; 
 
 Purchased with blood is the harvest they reap: 
 Valor-won ground they determine to keep, 
 
 Purchased with blood is the harvest they reap. 
 Force of their effort dread fear doth engender, 
 
 Which in the breast of the foe rankles deep, 
 Forming the base of full lothful surrender, 
 
 Purchased with blood is the harvest they reap. 
 
 Yon, with a mind as heroic as agile, 
 
 Rides now the chieftain as one in the line 
 That is to charge in support of the fragile, 
 
 Hard-pressed battalion, which else must resign. 
 Lo ! how they rally at valorous sign, 
 
 Hard-pressed battalion which else must resign 
 Portion of ground, which contested by inch, till 
 
 Soldierly spirits were on the decline. 
 Closing their ranks now they light with renewed will- 
 Hard-pressed battalion which else must resign. 
 
 Short is the struggle, tor with the assistance 
 Brought at this critical moment to bear, 
 Not for long offer the foemen resistance 
 
 Flee they like death-wounded lions for lair. 
 Prone yet as ever to do and to dare, 
 
 Flee they like death- wounded lions for lair. 
 
VISION OX THK MOUNT. *25 
 
 Not with will broken, but strength of insistence, 
 
 Warns them of Federal troops to beware. 
 Soon on the scroll they are seen in the distance, 
 Fleeing like death -wounded lions for lair. 
 
CANTO V. 
 
 The scroll seems changed to a battered chart 
 Ot the turbid, changeful sea of life. 
 
 And ever appeareth, though dimly seen, 
 A white face, fraught with pain, between 
 The cold, dark "deep" and the rough, dry land,. 
 The "will o the wisp" and the frail quick-sand; 
 But the dew of the soul doth amply trace 
 Those features, pale, with a touch of grace: 
 Faith s beam emvreathes as rare design. 
 When wrought by master hand supine, 
 Vests careless pose with saddened charm, 
 The shaft of criticism may ne er disarm; 
 So chastened will and faith combine. 
 
 To add soft glow to each look of pain. 
 And tendrils of human woe entwine, 
 
 Till love, alone, in his heart doth reign, 
 And he longs for the hour that shall end the strife 
 In which he hath taken a Patriot s part; 
 
 Nay, he longs for the soothing tones of his wife 
 In this crucial test of his strong, true heart. 
 
 Like a mirage now appears the scroll, 
 
 With its two-fold, quaint, reflective light, 
 And objects, etched with a glint of steel, 
 The utmost strength of the casts reveal. 
 Since time with its prurient spur hath urged, 
 Till forth from the furniiee fire emerged, 
 
VISION ON THK MOUNT. 27 
 
 Stands he of the soul-lit pallid face. 
 
 The foremost form in the tragic race. 
 
 He had vowed to win, or yield his breath 
 
 To fate, remote from a craven, death, 
 
 And the GEMS of his soul through his clear eves shine 
 
 With steadfast, eloquent glow- divine; 
 
 For his look of pain hath given place 
 
 To infinite strength and infinite grace 
 
 Engirt, as it were, by a burnished mold. 
 
 Lo! the wondrous loft of his project bold, 
 
 As it towers from the urn of his thought s best prime, 
 
 And sheds its rays o er his will, sublime, 
 Till his view discerns the longed-for goal 
 
 By the star of hope; hence, advice he scorns- 
 No lurking fear finds place in his soul 
 
 Though well-beloved is each friend who warns: 
 
 Ah, his yearning gaze foresees the whole, 
 While friends are reft of a glimpse of light, 
 And a God-lent power his acts control, 
 Till he guides by the force of his ponderous might. 
 
CANTO VI. 
 
 Dense the darkness were but now? 
 Sable-draped were midnight s brow. 
 
 On the scroll a magic change 
 Doth the pall of night derange. 
 
 Fiery prongs dart shades among; 
 Like to hideous demons, sprung 
 
 Forth from caves, with belching tones, 
 As if shaken by cyclones. 
 
 T is the gauntlet flame begun ; 
 Lo! the transports boldly run, 
 
 Bearing forward human freight, 
 On which destiny doth wait, 
 
 Hour of terror now is o er; 
 Baleful light is seen no more. 
 
 Ere long, morning s bright return 
 Seems the woes of night to spurn. 
 
 As from rose-hued fragrant mouth. 
 Balmy breath of " Sunny South," 
 
 Seems the while to softly sigh, 
 And the proofs of war deny. 
 
 Sweet deception may not last 
 Soon illusion s charm were past. 
 
VISION ON THE .MOUNT. 29 
 
 And the faded scroll betrays 
 Sudden glimpse of darksome days. 
 
 Soon " Port Gibson " comes to view, 
 To remind that war is 
 
 " Raymond " follows in its wake, 
 For the cause is still at stake. 
 
 "Jackson " hovers in the rear, 
 And its aspect, too, is drear. 
 
 When, at length, these battles fought, 
 Drive the enemy distraught, 
 
 " Champion s Hill," with lurid glare, 
 Adds its morsel of despair. 
 
 From " Black River " is the draught 
 Panic-stricken foe hath quaffed, 
 
 Ere the turn of fortune s wheel, 
 Oauseth Federal troops to reel 
 
 Backward from the mighty crest 
 Stretching down to " Yicksburg s " breast. 
 
 Twice repelling at dear cost, 
 
 Fierce assaults which made and lost; 
 
 Yet, as awful preludes bring 
 To the foe a vital sting 
 
 For they know no power may stay 
 Valor such as troops display, 
 
30 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 Who have planted battle-flags 
 Riddled unto merest rags. 
 
 All along the rampart s edge, 
 As it were in final pledge 
 
 Of their fixed resolve to win, 
 If not now mid battle s din, 
 
 Later on ; their acts allege 
 They will conquer by a siege, 
 
 For they ve caught the spirit brave 
 Of the Hero s vow to save, 
 
 If in human power it lies, 
 The asundered Union ties. 
 
 And to this end, if need be 
 That the Nation may be free, 
 
 They will even fast or starve, 
 Rather than that history carve 
 
 Record of defeated cause, 
 
 And the blight to Freedom s laws. 
 
 Lo! the siege is now commenced, 
 And the enemy, entrenched, 
 
 Doth with sorrowing eyes behold 
 Federal force their strength unfold, 
 
 As its waning durance toils 
 In the "Anaconda" coils; 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 31 
 
 Till at length, in torpid state, 
 Luckless prey hath met its fate. 
 
 Vicksburg and its powers hath fell; 
 Hence, true gratitude doth well 
 
 From the hearts that gladly chant 
 Praises unto U. S. Grant. 
 
CANTO VII. 
 
 The magic scroll is again transformed, 
 
 Now lucid is rerial space; 
 While seems by sunbeams to be warmed 
 
 Its scope which doth full much embrace, 
 
 Of earth and sky and craggy slope, 
 
 Which grandeur lends to the mountain ridge, 
 With which brave army soon will cope 
 
 And its dread power for e er abridge. 
 
 The white tents gleam and the banners ^vave, 
 The drums and the bugles sound their notes; 
 
 Behold wan faces growing grave 
 
 As the martial music upward floats: 
 
 Which soon is deadened by the roar 
 Of cannon from the heights above, 
 
 Resounding ever, o er and o er, 
 
 Like ardent words from lips of love. 
 
 But, oh! what a contrast to the tones 
 
 That thrill the soul with a lingering joy, 
 
 The deep-mouthed cannon loudly groans, 
 And fraught are its echoes with alloy; 
 
 For it were tired by the zeal of hate 
 
 And a sense of the anguish it may bear, 
 
 While the voice of love doth strife abate, 
 And renders the earth an Eden fair. 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 88 
 
 Yet, oh, how grand is the bayonet s gleam, 
 
 Ajid how magnificent martial tread 
 Of the troops as across the field they stream, 
 
 With a brave commander at their head. 
 
 He leads them onward toward the base 
 
 Of Lookout Mountain, ere the foe 
 May tenor of his purpose trace, 
 
 Or any thought of danger know. 
 
 Before they re fairly undeceived 
 
 Two hundred men have captured been; 
 
 Of duty, pickets are relieved 
 In manner they account a sin. 
 
 Night shrouds the earth in sable garb, 
 
 The noble Hero sits aliane, 
 While in his breast he feels the barb 
 
 Which only honest hearts may own. 
 
 What of to-morrow, who shall say, 
 
 He trusts, yet keenly anxious is; 
 The brave are pledged to gain the day, 
 
 Yet all the weight of war is his. 
 
 Once more the light of morning breaks 
 With wondrous splendor o er the scroll, 
 
 Its rays the weary soldier wakes 
 Assisted by the drum s long roll. 
 
 Ere long, the sun doth glint the air 
 
 Through which the bugles "Forward" rings, 
 
 And every man to do and dare 
 
 Resolves as onward now he springs. 
 
34 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 Soon secondary ridge is gained, 
 And now, unto the foeman near, 
 
 The field ere long is crimson stained, 
 For mighty is the struggle here. 
 
 Seen in the distance now they move, 
 The troops, who chafed at long delay, 
 
 Full soon their valor they will prove, 
 Since under arms they ve stood all day. 
 
 Alas, for the fate of the picket line, 
 Alas, for the rows of rifle pits, 
 
 The sun and the glitter of steel combine 
 To dazzle, till foenien lose their wits 
 
 And prostrate fall extended prone 
 Beneath those bayonets at charge, 
 
 A thousand men, through fright alone, 
 Vast host of prisoners enlarge. 
 
 The valiant troops still onward press, 
 No halt is made to reform the line, 
 
 To scale the mountain, nothing less, 
 
 Will their thoughts to past delay resign. 
 
 The flaming torrent from above 
 They do not for an instant heed, 
 
 Behold, the strength of Country s love 
 Which makes them nothing loth to bleed. 
 
 Now, on and upward still they go, 
 First line and second of the works 
 
VISION ON THE MOUNT. 35 
 
 Are past their progress now is slow 
 Yet, not one strength of purpose shirks. 
 
 Hand over hand they upward surge, 
 
 Despite the raging storm of fire, 
 Which doth each form in flame im merge, 
 
 As warranting ghastly funeral pyre. 
 
 But, now at length the top is gained, 
 
 They stand upon the blood red crest; 
 A glorious triumph they ve attained. 
 
 And satisfied soon sink to rest. 
 
 The people now their thanks proclaim, 
 And Congress with the world doth vie 
 
 In doing honor to his name, 
 By lifting him to station high. 
 
CANTO VIII. 
 
 The scroll hath caught the glimmer 
 That streaks the early dawn 
 
 With saffron tints, 
 Whose vague, uncertain shimmer 
 Doth Orient surface fawn 
 With bossy glints. 
 
 A wilderness outstretches 
 Athwart the lightened scroL, 
 
 Of foliage dense, 
 Whose sylvan verdure etchos, 
 
 With greenish bronze, the whole 
 Surroundings, whence 
 
 The smoke of battle issues, 
 For tangled* thicket-glen, 
 
 And stately pine, 
 Have blended well their tissues, 
 As sedge in heart of fen 
 Doth intertwine. 
 
 Lo! men are met in warfare, 
 As t were with blinded view, 
 
 Mid shades obscure; 
 Lit only by the fierce glare, 
 Whose fathoms do imbrue 
 In blood full pure 
 
VISION OK THE MOUNT. 
 
 While ag-o-ny of darkness 
 The morning air pervades, 
 With stifling gloom; 
 Yet, are by no means markless 
 The glittering bayonet blades, 
 Whose thrust is doom. 
 
 In gory sweat men swelter. 
 Within the dismal wold, 
 
 Where graves are not; 
 There, neath the brush- wood shelter. 
 The bravest forms grow cold, 
 To be forgot. 
 
 For hours full many linger- 
 Quite conscious of their fate 
 
 To pray, yet doubt, 
 That touch of gentle finger 
 May come, however late, 
 While life ekes out; 
 
 That mother s kiss may flutter 
 Above departing breath, 
 
 Or father s voice 
 Some soothing words may utter, 
 To take the "sting " from death, 
 Till soul rejoice; 
 
 That wife may murmur sweetly: 
 " Take comfort, I am here"; 
 
 Then, if need be 
 That death must follow fleetly, 
 T were well to die with cheer, 
 From suff ring free. 
 
#8 VISION ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 That sister s tears may chasten 
 Kadi hall-forgotten fault, 
 
 O er dying bed; 
 Or brother s hand unfasten 
 The door of kindred vault, 
 To view dear dead. 
 
 Adown the sun is sinking, 
 The dreary day is o er; 
 
 The battle done; 
 The living sadly thinking 
 Upon the morrow s store 
 No victory won. 
 
 Again gray dawn appeareth; 
 Again the wondrous scroll 
 
 Warfare reveals. 
 Again the evening neareth; 
 Again heroic sonl 
 
 Deep sorrow feels. 
 
 O, wilderness of peril ! 
 O, forest of the dead ! 
 
 Fade, if thou wilt; 
 Of grandeur thou art sterile. 
 Thy cruel heart is red 
 
 With brave blood spilt. 
 
CANTO IX. 
 
 The scroll with deep carnation is imbued, 
 
 While o er its surface carmine color wends 
 
 In wild meand rings awful to behold. 
 
 Now, letters which t would seem were trebly dyed 
 
 In human blood do swiftly course their way, 
 
 Unto the centre of the reddened scroll, 
 
 A moment more a name doth boldly stand 
 
 In high relief against its crimson face, 
 
 The name of Spottsylvania, and anon, 
 
 The carmine color is by scroll absorbed, 
 
 When troops, assembled quickly, do engage 
 
 In combat so terrific that its force 
 
 Would seem to paralyze the looker-on, 
 
 As hand-to-hand the furious foemen fight, 
 
 Till hours have swelled the dial to a day, 
 
 And night, as if in mercy, spreads her pall 
 
 O er carnage which hath formed a vast array. 
 
 The lapse of time might well be reckoned small, 
 Ere such assault as other warrior none 
 Hath ever made, is fiercely brought to bear 
 At juncture when to fail seemed grievous wrong, 
 To those who have invested with high rank, 
 Thus proving strength of their explicit trust, 
 To fail were torture, yet no human power 
 The dread calamity could well avert, 
 Of double failure in the huge attempts 
 
40 VISION OX THE MOUNT. 
 
 To storm the enemy s impervious works. 
 Tis done ! Each failure takes a new resolve. 
 Once more a siege he doth determine on, 
 And to this end he sends for soldier brave 
 And yields to him responsible-command. 
 Shenandoah Valley in due time is cleared, 
 Forevermore, from presence of the foe; 
 While other soldier, likewise u tried and true," 
 Hath won Atlanta as contested prize, 
 To be o ercapped ere long by other name, 
 That of Savannah added to the list, 
 Of conquests he may rightlv call his own. 
 Still, other warriors acteth well their part- 
 While " Rock of Chickamagua " stands as firm, 
 As did the noble chieftain who expired 
 Amid the thunder of the war clouds cleft 
 In twain by lighning of Atlanta s fray. 
 The battle of Five Forks is fought and won, 
 And Petersburg, as well, hath come and go\ie, 
 Before the changeful surface of the scroll, 
 Which was but now like to a sheet of flame 
 Reflecting all the woe of Richmond s fall. 
 Now in chimeric fashion it doth fade 
 And disappear before his mortal sight. 
 Swift turn his thoughts to yonder cottage now: 
 Behold, the dying hero with thin hands 
 Outstretched toward heaven, as he speaketh thus 
 " / go to dwell within my fathers house 
 Raise up another in your time of need" 
 
 The dark-browed man hath risen to his feet 
 And sauntered forth into the shades of night. 
 
ROCK OF AGES. 
 
 The Rabbi for the Hero s soul doth Pray; 
 
 The Freedman in his sorrow doth Exclaim ; 
 The Patriot doth his deeds extol for Aye; 
 
 The vanquished right to bear the bier doth Claim; 
 And doubly bowed with grief are heads of Eld; 
 
 E en heart of stone this hour must needs unlock; 
 
 Lo! note the tracing on the riven rock, 
 Cleft but the hearts of men to firmer weld. 
 
 The hand that holds the rod doth loudly knock: 
 
 Behold ! the " living waters from the rock 
 Gush forth, the thirst for strife to slake and cease; 
 " Drink, O my people, drink, and be at PEACE." 
 
REQUIEM. 
 
 Drum, drum, drum, how the heart of the Nation throbs; 
 Thrum, thrum, thrum, how the voice of the Nation sobs! 
 
 Tears, tears, tears, like a iiood of rain they fall; 
 Years, years, years, will the mighty tiood recall! 
 
 Crape, crape, crape, how potent now its name; 
 Drape, drape, drape, sad memory with the same! 
 
 Tread, tread, tread, with a reverent step and slow; 
 Dead, dead, dead, is the word now murmured low! 
 
 Grant, Grant, Grant, whose deeds the wide world knows; 
 Chant, chant, chant, a hymn for his repose! 
 
 Grieve, grieve, grieve, as every heart must do; 
 Leave, leave, leave, to God the soul so true! 
 
 Boom, boom, boom, how the cannon thunders o er 
 Tomb, tomb, tomb, of our Hero gone before! 
 
 Deep, deep, deep, is the mystery of the grave; 
 Sleep, sleep, sleep, the calm sleep of the brave! 
 
 Time, time, time, will render quaint and blest; 
 Chime, chime, chime, for the great, now laid to rest. 
 
THE LAST TRIBUTE. 
 
 The day wore slowly on, and I, full weary, 
 Was prone to rest iny head upon my hand ; 
 
 For thoughts depressive made the hour seem dreary. 
 Soon balmy dreamland was at my command. 
 
 Ii; my fair native State, I thought I lingered 
 
 Anear a vast assemblage yet apart; 
 The while a laurel -wreath I deftly fingered, 
 
 An humble tribute from a grieving heart. 
 
 I would not that the throng should gaze upon me 
 The great had done their part, and done it well 
 
 Alone with God and Xature I would fain be, 
 To add my mite; yet why I could not tell. 
 
 The solemn rites were o er, and still they tarried, 
 Loth, every one, to leave the pensive scene; 
 
 Butj-or their presence I had gently carried 
 
 And placed the now completed wreath of green. 
 
 Instead, I crouched me down among the shadows; 
 
 For, coming twilight lent a duskish sheen, 
 And welcome was the sombre tier of hedgerows 
 
 Which formed for me a fitting lattice screen. 
 
 Full patiently I waited, yet in sadness, 
 
 For, as the shadows dense and deeper grew, 
 
 I almost wondered if it were not madness 
 
 That twined the wreath, now damp with evening dew. 
 
44 THE LAST TRIBUTE. 
 
 Ah, no! ^a loyal heart!" I answered slowly, 
 
 "And willing hand ! " T were meet, and it shall be. 
 
 GRANT world-renowned did not ignore the lowly; 
 T were jnst a wayside flower, this act from me. 
 
 And now, at length, the throng grew less in number; 
 
 I, ever wary, still my vigil kept, 
 Till bove the bier of him in endless slumber 
 
 The last unbidden world s-tear had been wept. 
 
 An undefined yet half-expectant tremor 
 
 Possessed my frame and Ueld me there, spell-bound; 
 As by eclipse, the wreath grew dim and dimmer, 
 
 And still I crouched, in silence, near the ground. 
 
 I longed to place the late but heartfelt token, 
 As by some mystic power I was deterred; 
 
 I rather felt than saw the wreath had broken, 
 While but the subtlest breath of air had stirred. 
 
 A deep-drawn sigh oppressed my heaving bosom, 
 
 My parted lips encouraged its escape; 
 T were quenched, for now I saw a yawning chasm, 
 
 Deep, armor-lined, yet like a sword in shape. 
 
 T were spanned across by girdled rope of laurel, 
 Mid which a wealth of precious gems did gleam; 
 
 The air above reflected tint of coral, 
 
 On cherub forms with which it now did teem. 
 
 At hilt of sword, a huge, bald-headed eagle, 
 Surveyed the scene with calm but piercing eye, 
 
 As if his presence made proceedings legal, 
 
 He, "stationed guard on duty," posed " hard by." 
 
THE LAST TKIBtTTE. 45 
 
 And now a stately form approached the chasm, 
 Just opposite the spot of GKAWT S repose, 
 
 While o er his pallid face of pain a spasm 
 Did all the anguish of his soul disclose. 
 
 He, too, respect would pay the brave departed, 
 For in his hand a beauteous wreath he held. 
 
 In eyes of wondrous eloquence tears started. 
 To cross the chasm he would be compelled. 
 
 He gazed aloft toward hallowed throne of Heaven, 
 And seemed to breathe a silent, soul-fraught prayer, 
 
 As if celestial courage had been given, 
 
 To cross the sword he did at once prepare. 
 
 He bared his head, he drew full close his mantle 
 Or mourning garb round his majestic form 
 
 And then with tread both firm and reverential, 
 He walked the rope whence issued colors warm. 
 
 For, at each step, the sparkling gems emitted 
 
 Bright rainbow r tints, the fresh green leaves, anon, 
 
 (llowed till twould seem that heaven in truth had pitied. 
 And lent its arch for him to tread upon. 
 
 Yet not by this light only, was he guided ; 
 
 By far more lustrous was the single star 
 Which u better part of valor" had decided 
 
 Must set forever at the close of war. 
 
 Long years it smouldered neath the scourge of battle. 
 For time its brightness had been dimmed by gore; 
 
 The dust and ashes clung as clingeth tattle, 
 Which hath the power to probe anew a sore. 
 
4fi THE LAST TRIBUTE. 
 
 The impress of its flinty, crimson setting, 
 
 Left scar and stain twere hard to cleanse away, 
 
 Save by the tears suffused with heaven s wetting 
 That line immortal mist supplied to-day. 
 
 It fell it did its work as swift and surely 
 
 As doth the lightning smite the mighty oak 
 
 The star shone forth in radiance as purely 
 As shineth infant eyes but freshly woke. 
 
 As night drew on, instead of losing lustre, 
 Its brilliant rays so rapidly increased, 
 
 That marvelous halos of light did cluster 
 
 Hound hand of one ere he his task had ceased. 
 
 lie twined and wove the laurel sprays together, 
 Until such wreath as ne er before were seen 
 
 Designed, twould seem, the fiercest storms to weather- 
 Were wrought ! At front he set the star between, 
 
 The glossy mass of leaves time may not wither; 
 
 And then at eventide, as I have told, 
 He bore that radiant wreath and journeyed hither 
 
 To sepulchre of GKANT ; and now behold ! 
 
 The star illumines all his onward pathway 
 
 u A flaming sword "" the chasm s brink doth gird, 
 
 And white the eagle s plumage turned, as surf spray, 
 To know e en glance of fear hath aged the bird. 
 
 The form advanced, and ere long, safely over 
 The sword-like chasm, lo! forthwith it closed ; 
 
 Fresh broken sod formed velvet sheath to cover, 
 Yet still were hilt and eagle left exposed. 
 
THE LAST TRIBUTE. 47 
 
 He knelt at foot of tomb, then softly sighing. 
 He pressed his lips unto the peerless star. 
 
 A moment more the wreath ablaze was lying 
 With matchless light, whose glory spread afar. 
 
 It beautified the wealth of flowery symbols, 
 
 It softened snowy pillow at the head, 
 It changed the tone of crape-bound harp and timbrels. 
 
 Which erst had softly echoed, " GRANT is dead." 
 
 GRANT LIVKTH," rose in blue light all snow pelted 
 For violets were with stephanotis starred; 
 
 The Nation s u bleeding heart was quickly melted. 
 Its generous flow soon snowy pillow barred, 
 
 With stripes of red, so rich, so fresh, so fragrant, 
 It seemed to me that Paradise were nigh ; 
 
 From star bright line of light, yet not too flagrant, 
 Shot upward, hoisting Freedom s Hag on high. 
 
 And as it waved, the eagle flapped white pinion. 
 Ere hovering for a moment o er the head 
 
 Ot him who seemed to have supreme dominion 
 O er these unique obsequies of the dead. 
 
 Then, swooping low, the bald and silvered eagle, 
 Amid white light which now was waxing soft, 
 
 Fulfilled his mission in a way most regal: 
 
 Pie snatched the wreath and with it soared aloft. 
 
 Above the magic formed > w Star Spangled Banner, 
 O er golden staff upon " Red, White and Blue," 
 
 He flung the gorgeous wreath in royal manner, 
 Then from the scene of action slowlv flew. 
 
48 THE LAST TRIBUTE. 
 
 The wreath becomes a crown of wondrous brightness, 
 
 The star a sapphire of the purest my, 
 The furling flag a winding sheet of whiteness, 
 
 The hilt of sword, a stone just rolled away. 
 
 And now, behold the crowning scene of glory ! 
 
 The Patriot Chieftain to his colors true," 
 Waved thrice his hand toward the eagle hoary, 
 
 As round his form the faded flag he drew; 
 
 While on his brow the crown he then made firmer, 
 His lips were moving, I could plainly see ; 
 
 I strained my ear to catch the tender murmur 
 Twas but a single word the name of LEE. 
 
 Lo, thereupon, the armor with one volley, 
 
 Discharged within the chasm s hollow womb; 
 
 The light o erpowered ! for me it would be folly 
 To try to paint the scene above the tomb. 
 
 I only know at very verge of Heaven, 
 
 u The Father of his Country " did appear, 
 
 With martyrs twain to each of whom twere given 
 To shed a soul-bedewed immortal tear. 
 
 The smoke of battle once for all had vanished 
 In lieu thereof behold white, fleecy clouds, 
 
 Whose wondrous texture every shadow banished 
 And paled the air like ghosts in filmy shrouds. 
 
 I turned my head to note once more the donor, 
 Of wreath and star, anon transformed to crown, 
 
 By heaven s decree, illustrious brow to honor ! 
 I sought for him who wore the sable gown. 
 
THE LAST TRIBUTE. 49 
 
 In vain my search; yet no word dare I utter, 
 The weight of silence mate influence brings; 
 
 Yet, even now I think I hear the flutter 
 Of rustling garments, like to angel wings. 
 
 If it be he, rejoining the Immortal, 
 
 Seraphic host, for which my soul doth pine, 
 
 O, may we meet at Heaven s pearly portal, 
 Or near the Everlasting Throne Divine, 
 
 As if by some strong shock or fell misgiving, 
 
 My trembling heart now gave one mighty bound; 
 
 I woke to find myself among the living, 
 
 Devoid of power my strange dream to expound. 
 
 Yet will I trust, t were not of need quite sterile, 
 
 To me its mem ry shall be ever dear, 
 But precious as a monument of beryl, 
 
 Hath it the power to stay " A WIDOW S TEAR." 
 
A VOICE FROM AFAR. 
 
 Why stand ye there disconsolate and glum? 
 Doth it behoove that Nature s noblemen 
 Shall waste one trice of time in vain regret? 
 And would ye brand the epoch whence the years 
 That Time shall name tk an age" were given birth, 
 By actions rife with glaring malcontent 
 By lowering brows and mutterings morose 
 To render callow, in the fullest sense, 
 The motto that " IN UNION THERE is STRENGTH?" 
 Wouldst lend yourselves unwittingly to mock 
 The precepts which erewhile ye have instilled 
 In verdant minds? Wouldst recklessly corrode, 
 Ere harvest time, the wholesome vintage fruits 
 Fair products of good seed most nobly sown? 
 Nay, nay! T were but a passing blindness; yet 
 T were fitting that u the silent man " should speak. 
 Know, then, that he, now passed beyond the strife 
 The narrowness of earth s entire expanse 
 Who views with fan t less sight that mundane orb 
 Whose " beam " descries an ever-present " mote. 
 Know that with vision clear as crystal jet 
 Far reaching he, compassionate of soul, 
 Yearns tenderly to draw aside the v 7 eil; 
 That. earth s loved comrades share effulgent light; 
 Late friends and brothers -heirs of holy bond, 
 Whose golden links of need are stronger far 
 Than any our staunch friendships e er did weld. 
 
A VOICE FROM AFAR. 51 
 
 In that ye all to me are closer drawn ; 
 
 While I, at peace, and evermore unscathed 
 
 By twaddling censure in the mouths of men; 
 
 Free from the cruel lash of cold distrust, 
 
 Nor longer harrowed by vicissitudes 
 
 Which stalk unchallenged in the wake of all, 
 
 Like wary spectres, biding well the time 
 
 When hey-day prime is past, suspicions fled 
 
 That it be their design to overtake. 
 
 Then, with swift, stealthy stride, as is their wont, 
 
 They gain the vantage ground and boldly flaunt 
 
 Their colors- -though, in truth, they conquer not; 
 
 While honest friends in blank amazement gaze 
 
 On the proceedings till, half paralyzed, 
 
 They fail to act as quickly as they would, 
 
 Arid powerless grow, however a tried and true 1 ; 
 
 Till, later on, they rally, and in time 
 
 Lay bare the case, and facts investigate. 
 
 Such mode were human nothing more or less 
 
 And likewise were it human to regret 
 
 That one should be "caught napping at his post," 
 
 Though that one prove to be one s better self ! 
 
 Yet are regrets as base purloining thieves, 
 
 Whose purpose, sinister, is but to sap 
 
 The healthful juices from the buoyant heart, 
 
 And dredge the remnant with their own ioul bane. 
 
 Now, hearken well, I know w T hereof I speak, 
 
 And speaking as one lately passed beyond 
 
 The horizon that frames the mode of men : 
 
 I would diffuse trariquility s rare balm. 
 
 And something of pure sentiment impart. 
 
 What doth it signify, where mortal dust, 
 
52 A VOICE FUO1V1 AFAR. 
 
 From which my soul hath parted company, 
 
 Shall dwindle till no atom there remains, 
 
 So that mv bones be not contention s prey? 
 
 And to yourselves, what doth it matter, save 
 
 As trophy of that gloating rivalry 
 
 Which doth inflate the willing hearts of men 
 
 On such occasions, till becomes a farce, 
 
 Or misnomer, the effort they construe 
 
 As most respectful to the prior cause? 
 
 For e en as nacre may be smeared and dimmed 
 
 By dross of barnacle or calcium blur: 
 
 So, motives, once as pure as jasper rays, 
 
 If fostered by the reek of envy s slum, 
 
 May not conceal the parasitic blight; 
 
 That gross exchange for that which of itself 
 
 Had chastely thriven till its envoy sparks 
 
 Did glitter richly in x the noonday sun, 
 
 When, lo! the motive pure and self-sustained, 
 
 Had towered resplendent with prismatic light. 
 
 If ye would rear a monument, so strong 
 
 That no power known to man may e er detract 
 
 One whit from solid base or lofty spire, 
 
 Whose polished column nay, whose burnished shaft 
 
 The vaulted dome of heaven will not shame 
 
 By contrast, but whose canopy will grace 
 
 Its capital, which, looming gainst the sky, 
 
 With breathe forth language eloquent as mute, 
 
 At roseal dawn of morn, at prime of noon. 
 
 At amber sunset and at verge of eve, 
 
 At twilight vespers, when the tim rous stars, 
 
 Like bashful messengers, in tufts appear, 
 
 At night, when purple shadows fade before 
 
A VOICE FROM AFAK. 53 
 
 The radiant imprint of the moon s ripe kiss, 
 
 At glowering midnight, from whose visage grim 
 
 Those love-fraught beams in turn do shrink and wane, 
 
 At all hours, seasons, and through all extremes, 
 
 A language that will penetrate its way. 
 
 Like the aroma from ambrosial beds 
 
 When press the feet of Archangels upon 
 
 Their marv lous wealth of amaranthine blooms: 
 
 A mute oration, whose sage paragraphs, 
 
 The op ning calyxes of spring-time flowers, 
 
 The azure tint of summer, and the rain 
 
 That patters softly on the autumn leaves, 
 
 The Indian-summer haze which blandly waits 
 
 To usher in, betimes, the crisp hoar frost, 
 
 The whited drifts of winter, and the snow, 
 
 Whose gleam perennial pales the mountain peaks: 
 
 All will in turn appear to have TRANSCRIBED! 
 
 And like a silver bell, whose ring is heard 
 
 By sense acute ere its clear notes peal forth; 
 
 So discourse dumb may still be so replete 
 
 With ornate utterance, albeit restrained, 
 
 That mind, susceptible to import grand, 
 
 Doth memorize what it hath SEEMED to say, 
 
 And, echoing down the ages, wisdom s words 
 
 Doth thus renew their elsewise flagging power, 
 
 Till on the oriflamme, whose scroll-ed verge 
 
 Do quaintly span the zenith, is inscribed 
 
 A. glorious MORAL, which shall live for aye. 
 
 If ye would carve a record that will last 
 
 Till mountains shall be moved and seas consumed, 
 
 Bear ye no malice gainst your fellow-men; 
 
 And if your purpose be to honor me, 
 
54 A VOICE FROM AFAR. 
 
 Or yet my memory, tor my deeds on earth, 
 I do beseech, ye act with one accord; 
 For I am bound to none, save through the love 
 Which renders me commiserate toward all; 
 Nor would I have withheld a farthing which 
 Doth represent a secret wish to give; 
 "The widow s mite," the stripling s hoarded store, 
 The dimpled lassie s pence, and youth s proud sum 
 Should have a place beneath the corner-stone. 
 For I am of the people, e en as dew, 
 Which freshens drooping plants, is of the clouds, 
 And ye shall note my pleasure and my thanks 
 Shine forth in gratitude from smiling sky, 
 From nower-clad hills and mossy woodland haunts, 
 From placid lake, from shimmering olive bough, 
 And from the white-capped billows, which delight 
 To stud with countless gems their lofty crests; 
 Then, with a voice of thunder, signal give 
 That all their treasure is to be received 
 By Goddess fair; when lo! that a-ged dame, 
 Know r n bv repute as worthy Mother Earth, 
 Doth smooth her spacious lap and meekly wait 
 The shower of moistened gems, which place have had 
 In helmet lately vanished from the sight, 
 All the bright visions which your eyes behold, 
 From time to time, when turn your thoughts to me, 
 Shall be imbued with pleasure of my soul ; 
 Nor shall ye fail to hear the words, " well done." 
 
YB 37933 
 
 M304683 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY