83 W2. 
 
 ilifornia 
 
 ional 
 
 lity 

 
 REMINISCENCES OF 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE 
 
 IF 1 . IB.
 
 war ; many of them having been scribbled on the 
 limber chest of a 12-pound Napoleon ; many in the 
 trenches others, more fortunate, had the honor of 
 taking a position in a lady's album, and perhaps have 
 elicited a smile or a thought (precious gems, alas, fugi 
 tive as all sublunary happiness!) from some virginal 
 soul. 
 
 The author does not publish for the purpose of making 
 himself immortal he knows better. He knows what 
 his poems are worth, and gives them to his friends 
 as such ; to revive pleasant reminiscences and old 
 associations, many of them asked him to publish this 
 work. He hesitated, reflected, and confident that it 
 could do no harm, and that some kind and tried friends 
 would be pleased, he took this step without timidity or 
 shame, notwithstanding all the dangers attendant upon 
 a tramp into the heights of Parnassus, where critics 
 (those birds of prey who feed upon the carcasses of 
 feeble writers) are most ferocious as they are hungri 
 est, and are hungry and cruel in reverse ratio to the 
 square of their brains. 
 
 As will be seen, each poem is dated from its birth 
 place, and appreciation must be made of time and 
 place. What could be said then, it might not be expe 
 dient to utter now. 
 
 The author takes this occasion also to thank the kind 
 friends that have helped him in this undertaking, wish 
 ing them all the happiness that a poet can dream, or 
 that lovers aspire to (which is the greatest?)
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 DOTJBT, 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 'Twas night I dreamt but not the empty dreams 
 
 That smooth the brow in the ambrosial sleep 
 
 Of balmy innocence, vain counterfeits 
 
 Of shadows unrevealed to the awakening eye, 
 
 Awake I dreamt, and in my dream methought 
 
 That on the edge I stood of th' awful deep, 
 
 The tempest's home, uproar's wild domicil, 
 
 Where ever raged the billow's foaming crests 
 
 Like snow-capped mounts and howled the wintry blasts 
 
 In never ceasing might still unappeased ! 
 
 There lightning spread its robe of lurid light 
 And thunder groaned in night's dark womb, 
 And on the breast of day, if such be day 
 Whose unavailing light no comfort brings, 
 No sun with genial rays to warm the soul, 
 But whose dim twilight to the eye presents 
 A novel scene, though oftentimes beheld, 
 Of fearful sights and things of evil bode !
 
 8 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 And that it brings the happy truths 
 
 And placid joys along ; 
 Those who have spoken thus knew not 
 
 The tyrant's many wiles, 
 With what fond hopes it lulls the heart. 
 
 With what deceit beguiles ! 
 Ah ! trust them not and keep your souls 
 
 From logic's shackles free, 
 For reason is not on the earth 
 
 What reason ought to be ! 
 
 Have Faith ; believe that high Jehovah 
 
 Rules the tempest wild, 
 And smooths the heaven's angry brow 
 
 With breath of angels mild, 
 With awe and trembling hear the voice 
 
 Of rumbling thunder near, 
 For 'tis th' avenging anger of a God 
 
 That strikes the ear, 
 But read thou not within the page 
 
 Of scientific lore 
 That thunder is a thing of naught 
 
 Born in the clouds, a roar 
 Of mortals' slave, a fluid thrall, 
 
 A bright and harmless glare 
 That rushes for its equipoise 
 
 Across resisting air !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Behold the rainbow's many colored 
 
 Garments in the skies ; 
 Believe it an archangel's robe 
 
 Dipped in the heavenly dyes, 
 But learn thou not in useless books 
 
 That all the fairy hues 
 That teach the poet how to sing, 
 
 The dreamer how to muse, 
 Are nothing but the phantom sight, 
 
 And combination vain 
 Of sunny rays that meet and color 
 
 Falling drops of rain ! 
 
 Oh, live for love, that precious scented 
 
 Flower of the soul ! 
 For Faith with holy finger 
 
 Pointing to the heavenly goal ; 
 For Hope, the white and rosy winged 
 
 Messenger of bliss ; 
 For sun and light, for stars and dews 
 
 And virtue's loveliness ! 
 Beneath the firm embrace of friendship 
 
 Let your bosom heave ; 
 Oh ! never doubt, but let your mind. 
 
 Though stricken, still believe, 
 Give nurture to the healthful thoughts 
 
 Of radiating glory ; 
 Love the green trees, the singing birds?.
 
 10 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 The rocks sublime and hoary, 
 And giving o'er your kindly souls 
 
 To sweet credulity ; 
 Keep on your child-like eyes the fold 
 Of blind simplicity ! 
 
 Like unto yours my youthful mind 
 
 Believed in earth's great names, 
 And drank deceitful drafts of hope 
 
 And fed ambitious aims : 
 But on an angry night the specter 
 
 Doubt, with cruel force, 
 Wide oped the gate that shut my heart 
 
 And blew his breathings hoarse. 
 Then like the yellow leaves that fall 
 
 Before the northern breath, 
 My dear illusions fell, my soul 
 
 Was tenantless as death ! 
 
 My mind is dark e'en as the bosom 
 Of a stormy sea, 
 
 My soul has shrieked upon the winds 
 / 
 
 Its cry of agony, 
 
 And waves of anguish dash together 
 
 In my frenzied brain, 
 For Doubt with traitorous stroke hath cleft 
 
 My bleeding heart in twain !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 11 
 
 Oh, God, who rideth on the wings 
 
 Of whirlwinds in the night, 
 Whose voice speaks in the thunder cloud 
 
 Great king of Infinite ! 
 Have pity send thy thunderbolt 
 
 Within my soul benighted ; 
 Illume it with the light of Faith, 
 
 Restore my hopes all blighted ; 
 And even if in crushing down my doubts 
 
 Your lightning blest 
 Restore to former nothingness and dust 
 
 My aching breast, 
 If that alone may from this hell 
 
 Obtain my soul's release 
 Oh strike, Jehovah, and with deatli 
 
 Send your eternal peace ! 
 
 Thus spoke the voice, fresh 'twas and musical. 
 
 And as the wailing sounds struck on my ear 
 
 That told it to my soul, my heart within me broke. 
 
 To think that such enormous misery 
 
 Could find a place within one human heart 
 
 And my soul wondered how a thing of naught, 
 
 Void of all substance, incorporeal, 
 
 A doubt, which is not even a denial 
 
 Of some great truth, could carry with it 
 
 Pains of such extent.
 
 12 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Then in my dream 
 A voice unearthly spoke and said : 
 
 "Oh man, 
 
 ' "Pis not reality pales the suffering brow, 
 " Or sinks the cheek, or dims the eye, 
 " So much as vision and 'tis not the stroke of Fate 
 " That cleaves the heart It is our very soul 
 " That suicidal turns against itself 
 "\The cruel sword of headlong destiny 
 ' By mad reflection. Doubt is but its offspring 
 " A bastard child, who, maddened by the stain 
 '' That blots its birth, unnatural and cold. 
 " When once admitted to an humble share 
 " Of Mind's inheritance, aspires to the whole 
 " And, aided by the wiles of sophistry, 
 " Poisons the soul with reason's drugged wine 
 " A dangerous beverage till the frenzied soul, 
 " Abused and drunk with mortal prejudice, 
 " Drives weeping Faith, with cruel mockery. 
 " From out the unwilling portals of the heart! 
 " And then there naught remains but chaos in the mind. 
 And contradictions, like opposing winds. 
 " 'Twixt right and wrong buffet the weary soul. 
 - Whose only refuge then lies in the grave ! v 
 
 ******* 
 All was again as black and still as Night !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 13 
 
 SO3VC* OV THE C. R.'S OK 1 M. 
 
 Am " Villikins and his Dinah." 
 
 Our motto is fun, and though dark be the hour 
 His heart is a craven's who lets it go sour ; 
 We're a laughing and devilish set of good fellows. 
 And we dance in the tempest like storm-drunken billows! 
 
 Let the statesman be dull and the tradesman be staid 
 Who know not the pleasures of fight and parade ; 
 But the fearless and dauntless are thoughtless and gay. 
 And the clowns of the night are the braves of the day 
 
 God smiles at the pranks of our well meaning youth, 
 For a latigh is a thanksgiving flowing with truth 
 If life is a farce, let us joke from the start, 
 And the louder the laugh the more honest the heart ! 
 
 When Noah, the first of the C. R.'s of M, 
 Came forth from the ark with a cough and a hem, 
 God pitied the fellow and sent him the vine, 
 Which gives drinking an origin surely divine ! 
 
 Then let us be merry as long as we can, 
 The wisest of men say that life is a span, 
 If indeed 'tis so short, let's enjoy every hour, 
 The sweetest, of scent is the shortest lived flower !
 
 14 WAR FLOWER?. 
 
 Genius is naught but excitement refined, 
 A good joke is worth all the poets combined 
 'Tis the flash of the spirit, the light of the soul 
 That sparkles like generous wine in the bowl ! 
 
 Then give me broad, grinning and jocular faces, 
 And the man who will laugh in all possible cases ; 
 Such a one would I trust with my money, my life. 
 And had I the fortune to have one, my wife ! 
 
 Then here : s to the merry, the thoughtless and gay, 
 Who can sing like the birds and look bright as the day. 
 And here's to the girls, may their eyes never fade, 
 Till the last torch is burnt out of life's masquerade! 
 
 Chorus Sing fol de rol, fol de rol day. 
 WILLIAMSBURO, Va.. March 4th. 1862.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 15 
 
 THE 
 
 It stood upon the bridge of sighs, 
 A wooden bench of common size. 
 
 But full of grace. 
 For lovers who revere the moon, 
 And always part, alas ! too soon, 
 
 A trysting place. 
 
 How beautiful it was at night. 
 iSilvered by Cynthia's bleaching light, 
 
 To see two lovers 
 Plighting their faith in secret bliss. 
 And hear, perchance, a fleeting kiss 
 
 Escape these rovers ! 
 
 There sparkled many a gay flirtation. 
 At sixty paces from the station. 
 
 'Twixt love and glory. 
 
 There vows were made that ne'er were cashed. 
 As 'fore th' admiring maidens ." flashed 
 
 The red artillery! " 
 
 *This bench was romantically situated on a bridge over the 
 Tangipaho, at Chattawa, Mississippi, on the New Orleans and Jack 
 son Railroad, where the author spent some very pleasant days 
 while recovering from a wound received in Virginia. Many of his 
 friends, more fortunate, [?] were wounded there, but in the heart, 
 and never recovered, having been imprudent enough to apply for 
 a cure to Dr. Hymen, who made a chronic disease of the sweet 
 sufferings of these rash ones.
 
 16 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 But ah ! alas for human bliss, 
 
 There's always something goes amiss 
 
 The bench was broke ! 
 Artillerists cried and maidens wept, 
 And mutual happiness was swept 
 
 By the sad stroke ! 
 
 High jumped the squirrels at the sound 
 At " squirrel point," then gazed around, 
 
 And looked so grave ! 
 Then madly dived th" astonished coolers* 
 Like flying youths from angry tutors, 
 
 Beneath the wave ! 
 
 Then sighed the breeze in '' lovers lane " 
 Nor did the weeping clouds refrain 
 
 In tears to flow ; 
 
 Then groaned in anguish your bright waters, 
 Mourned for the grief of your sweet daughters. 
 
 Tangipaho ! 
 
 And now no more the conscript gasses, 
 Nor stares upon the train that passes. 
 
 Nor cries hurrah ! 
 
 The bench is broke, thy conscripts gone. 
 Th' artillerists too and thou art lone. 
 
 Oh Chattawa ! 
 CHA-TTAWA, August, 1862. 
 
 *Oooters a fancy name for Tangipaho turtles, derived from the 
 natives.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 17 
 
 It is pleasant to meet with a sunshiny beam 
 
 In the days of ungentle December 
 In the darkness of night it is pleasant to dream 
 
 Of things that we love to remember. 
 
 You have shone like a ray beaming beauteous and bright 
 O'er the stream where my happiness anchored, 
 
 And unlike the great Roman who reveled in fight, 
 I have come, I have seen, you have conquered! 
 
 But what boots it? 1 go and will pass like the wind 
 
 That sighs near a lair lady's bower ; 
 More happy these lines, they will rest in your mind. 
 
 A bud of remembrance's flower ! 
 BATON Roros, September l(i. 1SC.2. 
 
 THE "BOUQUET 13E 
 
 A BALLAD, DEDICATED TO MISS j** 
 
 She stepped within the lighted hall, 
 And dimmed the lesser beauties all, 
 
 That filled the place. 
 So dazzling was her youthful mien, 
 That all at once did vote her queen 
 
 Of love and grace ! 
 
 o
 
 18 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Her snrile.s like beams from heaven fell- 
 She looked so sweet, that hall room belle, 
 
 And so vivacious, 
 
 One would have thought she was a fairy, 
 llor form appeared so light and airy, 
 
 Her air so gracious! 
 
 Her hair entranced th' admiring crowds. 
 Her eyes were dark as thunder clouds 
 
 That flash forth fire ; 
 And he who says she did not dance 
 Like Fanny Ellsler. wilh my lance 
 
 I'll prove a liar! 
 
 In her soft grasp of alabaster 
 
 The envious eyes of belles that past her 
 
 Saw a boquet, 
 
 Where fairest flowers each did vie, 
 Which should enchant th ? admiring eye 
 
 Of gallants gay. 
 
 Soon every soldier in the hall 
 Went to this beauty of the ball 
 
 To run his chance, 
 This for a word, that for a smile. 
 Or look that would a saint beguile. 
 
 That, for a dance.
 
 \VAR FLOWERS. 19 
 
 One there was, prone to contemplation, 
 Who, losing time in admiration 
 
 Of this great wonder, 
 (For he had lost his manly heart,) 
 Came somewhat late to get his part 
 
 Of general plunder. 
 
 He was a youth whom none remarked 
 On his poor ship there had embarked 
 
 Nor fame nor power ; 
 His hopes and joys all being blasted, 
 He lived to think that no bliss lasted 
 
 More than an hour. 
 
 Once he had loved and was forsaken. 
 His dreams were all one by one taken 
 
 From him away ; 
 
 He lived with those who did not know him. 
 And did not think the year could show him 
 
 One happy day ! 
 
 Yet he could dance, and even sing, 
 And he could make a table ring 
 
 With merry laugh. 
 But in his soul was such a whim, 
 That all those pleasures were to him 
 
 As so much chaff.
 
 20 WAR FLOWE&S. 
 
 Enthusiastic in bis youth, 
 
 He thought that all in life was truth, 
 
 But, by and by, 
 
 When he had seen the world, he knew 
 That all those things lie thought were true. 
 
 Were all a lie. 
 
 Bliss was a dream of fairy land, 
 Friendship a word upon the sand. 
 
 And love was naught 
 Save a day dream of infancy, 
 A ticket at the play, I fancy, 
 
 Too dearly bought ! 
 
 In fact, he thought, this poor young man. 
 That bootless was the race he ran 
 
 In this wide world ; 
 That not a thing was worth the while, 
 Therefore he marched thro' life's defile 
 
 With banners furled. 
 
 He was not pale, that youth, I ween, 
 Nor was he made, (from what I've seen,) 
 
 To cut a dash, 
 
 His eyes were bluish gray, his hair 
 Was dark, his upper lip did wear 
 
 A black mustache.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 He was a soldier and had served, 
 But never had his fortune swerved, 
 
 Except for evil, 
 
 And yet his mind had settled down, 
 So that he cared for smile, nor frown, 
 
 For saint, nor devil ! 
 
 Yet when approached the dark-eyed maid. 
 This youth, enraptured, half betrayed 
 
 A strong emotion ; 
 In him it was a wondrous thing, 
 Which nothing from his soul could wring 
 
 But love's devotion. 
 
 And oh ! that maiden smiled so sweetly, 
 And gazed upon him so discreetly, 
 
 With such an eye ! 
 
 That, though but one quadrille he got, 
 And that the sixth, his soul forgot 
 
 Its misery. 
 
 : Twas then confessed her supreme power. 
 He waited for the midnight hour 
 
 With sighing breast. 
 And in the dance, his ardent gazes 
 Saw none but her amid its mazes. 
 
 And shunned the rest.
 
 22 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 And she, upon her knight's devotion 
 With heart of angel took compassion. 
 
 The dark-eyed fay; 
 
 And gave, with smiles that thrilled his heart. 
 That precious gift of Flora's art. 
 
 Her own boquet. 
 
 Forth went the youth with glowing features. 
 And in the moonlight, all in raptures. 
 
 He made a vow, 
 
 And holding up the gift, his pride, 
 Addressed the moon, the soldier cried : 
 
 Oh hear me now! 
 
 Oh. Moon! il in my youthful dsiys 
 I ever penned ecstatic lays 
 
 Thy beams to praise. 
 If it be true that you look kindly 
 On those who sigh and love on blindly 
 Beneath thy rays ; 
 
 If thou art still the maiden queen 
 Who chased the deer in forests green 
 
 With silver bow ; 
 If lovers are by thee protected, 
 When in their maddest acts detected. 
 Oh, hear me now !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 23 
 
 " And if you smile on Cupid's lies, 
 That render stupid the most wise, 
 
 And quick the slow : 
 If e'er you blest a poet's lay, 
 And taught Great Ocean to obey, 
 
 Oh, hear my vow ! 
 
 " Before thy dreamy beams I swear 
 These flowers on my heart to wear 
 
 At the first fight, 
 
 And he who points his weapon there, 
 Where buds of beauty bloom so fair, 
 
 To death is dight ! 
 
 " And furthermore, by light or shade, 
 I swear these flowers will never fade 
 
 Within my soul, 
 
 While shines the sun upon the globe, 
 Or stars that deck the night's blue robe 
 
 In heavens roll !" 
 
 With that he swore a solemn oath, 
 Then raised his hands in prayer both 
 
 To her above ; 
 
 And that which was heard from him last 
 Were these words whistling in the blast : 
 
 '' So help me Love ! " 
 
 BATON ROUGE, October 2, 1862.
 
 24 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 AIR <; We have lived and loved together." 
 
 The moon smiled pale, but serenely, 
 
 The stars like tears shone above, 
 As I wandered all pensive and lonely, 
 
 And thought of the one that I love. 
 Perhaps we have parted forever, 
 
 All happiness ends with regret., 
 Ah ! 'tis cruel of heaven to sever 
 
 Two hearts that can never forget. 
 
 The light fleecy clouds were racing 
 
 Like ghosts on the moon's dreamy eye. 
 To infinity each other chasing, 
 
 But she motionless stood in the sky. 
 And I thought : like the waves of a river. 
 
 Or the clouds, will my days come and go, 
 But my love, still the same, will forever 
 
 Shine bright and unsullied as snow. 
 
 Her name on my lips is a prayer. 
 
 Her image a god in my heart. 
 I would sooner be dead than betray her. 
 
 She loves me, and oh, we must part ! 
 But true love no distance can sever : 
 
 Even time cannot wipe it away. 
 Oh ! then, let us hope and love ever. 
 
 And night will yet melt into day. 
 PORT HUDSOX, January 7. 1RC2.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 25 
 
 I saw a rose upon its bush, 
 
 So fair, 
 It seemed to color with its blush 
 
 The air. 
 
 Among its thorns, with leaves unfurled, 
 
 It shone 
 Like Innocence upon the world, 
 
 Alone. 
 
 What do they think, the pretty flowers 
 
 That bloom ? 
 Is it their thoughts that fairy bowers 
 
 Perfume ? 
 
 For thoughts are sweet, when they are pure, 
 
 Like roses, 
 And soft as light which the morn's azure 
 
 Discloses. 
 
 I do not like to pluck a blooming 
 
 Flower ; 
 No sin appears, to my presuming, 
 
 Lower. 
 
 But as she was destined to you, 
 
 Her mate, 
 I did not think that she would rue 
 
 Her fate ;
 
 26 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 But when I took her in my hand 
 
 'Twas faded, 
 Like some bright dream of fairy land 
 
 Degraded. 
 
 And thus I thought : " Is this world made 
 
 Of lies? 
 Can we believe, for flower or maid, 
 
 Our eyes ? 
 
 ;< Must we still say, this beauteous thing 
 
 But seems ? 
 
 The truest pleasures life can bring 
 Are dreams ? 
 
 " Fancy always our 'raptured eyes 
 
 Beguiles, 
 
 And we're deceived by painted lies 
 And smiles ? " 
 
 I brought the rose to you, and lo ! 
 
 I found 
 A cure to soothe my heartfelt woe 
 
 Profound ! 
 
 For you are holy as the rose, 
 
 And pure 
 As morn's own beam that radiant glow?, 
 
 I'm sure !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 21 
 
 And you are one of those bright flowers. 
 
 A maid 
 Whom life cannot with evil hours 
 
 E'er fade ! 
 BATON ROUGE, October 16, 1862. 
 
 To ]VIrj*. Isabella Grrinnell. 
 
 The soldier lays upon his helpless bed, 
 Far from his home, reft of maternal care ; 
 With war's stern paint his gaping wounds are red, 
 Yet in his sleep smiles the young warrior there ; 
 
 For sunlit fancies dance around his head 
 Once more at home, he breathes its healing air. 
 Beneath a mother's magic touch forbear 
 The fearful pains, and drops the fever dread ! 
 
 He wakes, and lo ! still smiles a mother's face 
 Beside his bed with charitable grace 
 The magic hand still plies its healing arts. 
 
 All who have known her, loved her, for she's kind ; 
 Her children are the sufferers of mankind ; 
 Her name, 'tis written in heaven and our hearts ! 
 GLOBE HOSPITAL, Richmond, May, 1862,
 
 28 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 I3ULCI A. 
 
 Bright were the stars that shone last night, 
 
 Not brighter than your eyes ; 
 Your smiles are sweeter than the dawn. 
 
 Softer than summer skies ! 
 I do not mean to flatter you 
 
 With unbeseeming lies, 
 But you'll believe me, I am sure, 
 
 Your modesty's so wise! 
 
 The candy that you sent was sweet, 
 
 The sweeter for its size ; 
 Small things are nicest, and I hate 
 
 Of aught to gormandize ; 
 'Twas small and sweet, just like a kiss, 
 
 Enough to tantalize, 
 I took it as an allegory 
 
 To suit my wishful sighs ! 
 BATON ROUOE, October 23, 1802. 
 
 QUKRID A. 
 
 I will not see you, love, to-day 
 Oh, what a heavy morning this is ! 
 
 Though smiles the sun and skies look gay, 
 It is with you alone that bliss is ;
 
 AVAR FLOWERS. 29 
 
 I will not ligkt my anxious soul 
 To-day, with fire from your sweet eyes. 
 
 Therefore the hours will darkly roll, 
 All heedless of the beaming skies : 
 
 But I will see you. love, to-morrow, 
 
 And skies take back their looks of azure ; 
 
 And dark as shall have been the sorrow, 
 So bright will be the glowing pleasure 
 
 How loud soever love may call 
 With syren voice and eyes of beauty. 
 
 A soldier's honor is his all 
 
 And happiness must bow to duty ! 
 BATON ROUGE, November 29. ISii-j. 
 
 A.13VICE TO A. YOTJISTO 
 
 If I were beautiful and bright, 
 If I had eyes that shamed the light 
 
 Of heaven's stars, 
 If like you, I was fair and witty, 
 I'd be a flirt and show less pity 
 
 Than cruel Mars !
 
 30 AVAR FLOWERS. 
 
 I'd never marry, not at least, 
 
 'Till I had brought down that poor beast. 
 
 Dull man, to reason, 
 I'd have all dying for my sake, 
 And break more hearts than God can make 
 
 In one whole season ; 
 
 I'd think of nothing but of balls, 
 Of silken robes and cashmere shawls, 
 
 Of gems and beaux, 
 I'd be the sweetest, eruelest creature 
 That ever twisted heaven's nature 
 
 To artful shows ; 
 
 1 would, like you, be dark and pale, 
 For rosy cheeks will tell a tale 
 
 Though lips may lie ; 
 I'd study the dissembling art, 
 I'd carry scorn within my heart. 
 
 Love in my eye ! 
 
 I'd practice smiles of deep deceit 
 To bring my victims to my feet 
 
 With hopes absurd, 
 Then send them off in dull despair 
 To tear their clothes, or pull their hair, 
 
 If they preferred ;
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 31 
 
 I'd be the gayest of the gay, 
 Smile ever, like a month of May, 
 
 Though full of sorrow, 
 
 And though I'd break some hearts with anguish. 
 My gay flirtation would not languish 
 
 For food, the morrow ; 
 
 My heart of ice and eyes of fire, 
 My voice, as tuneful as the lyre 
 
 That Orpheus rules, 
 Would bring men at my feet to sigh, 
 And I would laugh to see them cry 
 
 For being fools ! 
 
 From nothing in the woiid I'd shrink ' 
 To make the stupid creatures think 
 
 That I was truthful- 
 Vows, smiles and tears, I'd lavish all, 
 How could they doubt such proofs at all 
 
 In one BO youthful ! 
 
 I'd be, in fact, a true coquette, 
 With all due forms and etiquette 
 
 My heart I'd screen, 
 I'd have my flatterers and my knights 
 And vassals 'neath the ball room lights 
 
 Would call me queen
 
 32 \V.\U FLOWERS. 
 
 All would beneath my sceptre bend 
 My chains no mortal strength could rend. 
 
 Though light they'd be, 
 Smiles would repay my loyal slaves 
 And frowns annihilate the knaves 
 
 Who would be free ! 
 
 But, oh! by all on earth I hold dear. 
 I'd have no mercy on the soldier 
 
 Who, bred in camps, 
 Will shoot Mars' shafts or Cupid's arrows 
 With equal coolness as at sparrows 
 
 Aim village scamps ; 
 
 As they have never long to stay, 
 They want to make their visits pay 
 
 Therefore are bold ; 
 I'd punish all such graceless wretches 
 By chaining them with amorous ketches 
 
 In Love's stronghold ! 
 
 And what if they should go despairing? 
 Twill make their valors still more daring 
 
 The State to save ; 
 A broken heart no foe will quell 
 And what cares he for shot or shell 
 
 Who courts a grave ''
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 I'd be coquettish, but yet prudent ; 
 For Love will pierce with arrows ardent 
 
 The closest mail 
 
 Some have been known, heart-breakers rare. 
 (For some cold swain who did not care.) 
 
 To take the veil 
 
 For e'en coquettes will once be frail 
 And women often long bewail 
 
 Unguarded moments 
 Full many a life begun with smiles, 
 Has ended, thanks to Cupid's wiles, 
 
 In fearful torment? ! 
 
 i 
 
 And men are false, sometimes, you know, 
 The blind boy strikes the conquering brow 
 
 With direst crime 5 
 Of fifty lovers who adore, 
 Three-fourths will love us, less or more. 
 
 Just to kill time ! 
 PORT HUDSON, February 15. 1863.
 
 34 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 AMOR. 
 
 '' L 'amour est plus fort que la mort ! " 
 
 Fair angels that in limpid azure rove, 
 Inspire my verse to sing a song of love, 
 
 With words and thoughts sublime ; 
 Show how devotion blends two loving hearts 
 And to each beating bosom how imparts 
 
 A corresponding chime ! 
 
 A youth and uuiideu sat in converse sweet 
 No purer hearts in mortal bosoms beat. 
 
 No more resplendent forms 
 E'er courted sunlight in the flowery field, 
 Or basked in love beams, to whose radiance yield 
 
 KVn winter's dismal storms. 
 
 Their love was not that passing ray of light, 
 Born of reflection, which worldlings doth unite, 
 
 A dull and temperate flame, 
 Upon whose sacrificial fane no victim bleeds, 
 Save when at times a beauty sows the seeds 
 
 Of love to gather shame. 
 
 Theirs was the pure, tlr ethereal gift of God, 
 Coeval with his all creative nod. 
 The universal song
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 35 
 
 Born of divine effulgence, sacred bur. 
 Which angels, from each palpitating star. 
 On harps of gold prolong! 
 
 Theirs is no afterthought, they love 'tis all : 
 Their softest music is a tender call 
 
 By each of mutual names - 
 To see each other, mingle causeless tears 
 With doting smiles,foud hopes with groundless fears. 
 
 These are their highest aims. 
 
 Whole days they pass, 'twined in each others arms. 
 Admiring all tilings, adoring Nature's charms, 
 
 Its songsters and its flowers 
 But still reverting to each other's faces. 
 With grateful conscience of no fairer graces. 
 
 Forgot the fleeting hours ! 
 
 Yet they conld see the blooming flowers die. 
 'Reft of his mate could hear the dove's low cry. 
 
 Behold the falling leaves, 
 
 And as black winter frowned and chilled the air. 
 Could mark on Nature's withered brow the care 1 
 
 That o'er lost beauty grieves ! 
 
 Yes, thro' their dream they saw how all things pass- 
 Thejr love, they felt eternal, but alas ! 
 Since glories all must fade,
 
 36 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 They trembled lest some ruthless winter uight 
 Should o'er their prospect cast the unfailing blight 
 Which poisons bliss betrayed : 
 
 For Time and Death pursue a headlong way, 
 Nor choose their victims, but remorseless prey 
 
 On beauty, health and bloom : 
 The old, the young, the virtuous and profane. 
 The bird in air, the prisoner in his chain. 
 
 All blend in future gloom! 
 
 Time is a rust which eats up youthful hearts : 
 'Tis Time which lover from his lady parts ; 
 
 " Whom the gods love die young ''- 
 They take their leave without one bitter thought. 
 Pale wisdom by experience dearly bought 
 
 Leaves their pure souls unstung. 
 
 How many sages one hour has brought to shame : 
 How many heroes lost immortal fame 
 
 By one day's dizziness ; 
 How many lovers blessed would have been 
 Had they not lived one day too long, I ween, 
 
 For faith and happiness!. 
 
 And tearing Time, thus prayed the youthful lovers : 
 God, whose new mercies, every day discovers, 
 Oh. listen to our prayer !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 37 
 
 i% This tleetiug world thou never mad'st for love. 
 It changes so alone the heavens above, 
 Eternal . dread no care ! 
 
 i- Oh! let its die before our frames grow old 
 Oh! let us sleep before our love is cold 
 
 Let us not live to monrn ! 
 Let no pale tombstone chill our fixed eye ; 
 To You with Faith and Love, oh, let us fly. 
 On Hope's white pinions borne ! 
 
 Let us depart with all our blissful dreams. 
 Ere yet our love hath quenched its golden beams 
 
 In Future's dark abyss ; 
 While yet we smile, nor wish to blot ihe past. 
 Dying of love, oh, let us breathe our last 
 
 In one eternal kiss !" 
 
 Thus pray 'd the pair, their vows to heaven ascended, 
 Their spotless wish the God of love befriended 
 
 And sent his holy thunder, 
 Midst the sublimest rapture of their hearts 
 From the black cloud the blessed lightning darts 
 
 Nor rends their hearts asunder-- 
 
 They were found sleeping 'neath an aged oak. 
 Of a celestial bliss their features spoke, 
 A bliss without a name ;
 
 38 \\.U-. FLO \VfcRS. 
 
 Struck in each other's arms, by God's own doom. 
 By angels culled in death, their love will bloom 
 Eternally the same ! 
 
 The martyr's holy tomb, the patriot's grave . 
 The storied urn, the consecrated nave 
 
 Where heroes lie immortal. 
 To sacred thoughts excite th' admiring soul. 
 And men aspire to enter the heavenly goal 
 
 By such a glorious portal : 
 
 But Hate and Envy these proud ghosts pursue, 
 And cruel Slander opes their wounds anew 
 
 And clouds their shining glory, 
 Oh ! them I envy not, if I can rest 
 With happy love's eternal sunshine blest. 
 
 Unknown to fame or story ! ^ 
 
 CLIXTOX, May 5, 180:'.. 
 
 Farewell ! Stern duty calls me fast 
 
 'Gainst the foe. 
 JVe been happy, but 'tis past, 
 
 Let it go
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 39 
 
 Wheresoever 'tis my lot 
 
 Here to roam, 
 I will think me of this spot 
 
 As of home ; 
 
 I will think of tlicc and thine. 
 
 Far or near, 
 As of joys which we resign 
 
 With a tear ; 
 
 Ah ! we meet, we love, we part : 
 
 What's eternal ? 
 All ! the pains that break the heart 
 
 Are diurnal ! 
 
 And we think of happy moments 
 
 That are fled, 
 As friends mourn with soul-felt torments 
 
 O'er the dead ! 
 
 Yet let me, as I bid farewell. 
 
 Laugh the while, 
 So the ancient heroes fell 
 
 With a smile. 
 
 And when I am gone I sue 
 
 On my knee, 
 When you've nothing else to do. 
 
 Think of me ! 
 
 Ci.lNION, June 3, 1863.
 
 \\AK 
 GH-.EN ROY. 
 
 BONNET. 
 
 It is a carious world, this world of om>. 
 Time but creates in order to destroy 
 One day, and then fade happiness and flowers, 
 Springs forth a source of pain from every joy ! 
 
 Thus have I seen aud loved tliee, fair Glen Roy. 
 Where hospitality weaves happy hours. 
 Where neither sky nor brow unkindly lower-. 
 Bnt all is pure like gold without nlloy ! 
 
 Thus must I leavo tlirc, mansion where the smiles 
 Of beauty, fair as light, shine void of wiles 
 To cheer the weary and inspire the heart. 
 
 Farewell ; I may not see tliee more, but yet 
 Where gratitude forbids us to forget, 
 Remembrance still remains, though joys depart ! 
 YA., Sept., 1861.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 41 
 
 THE CANN-OTSTEER'S DOOM!! 
 
 A IJIGEND OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 ' Oh, tell me not of trimmings red ;'' 
 
 Thus sighed a cannoneer 
 li The light of love its beams hath shed 
 On yellow, bright and clear ; 
 
 I 
 " A thousand horsemen haunt my soul 
 
 With yellow trimmings bright, 
 A thousand horses rear and roll 
 Upon my couch at night 
 
 " They prance and trot, they laugh and jeer 
 
 'Twould rouse a heart of stone ; 
 Alas ! alas ! poor cannoneer 
 Your occupation's gone ! 
 
 " Erewhiles the red was all the go, 
 
 But now, the yellow rules, 
 
 This life is but a fleeting show, 
 
 And we are Fortune's fools ! 
 
 " The boots and spurs are on the rise, 
 
 Young Cupid for them vouches, 
 They get the comforters, my eyes ! 
 And the tobacco pouches ! 
 6
 
 42 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 They get the bright smiles that you sought 
 
 Oh, F. B.'s what a shame ! 
 My soul is dark I ask for naught 
 A grave without a name." 
 
 Thus sighed the ardent cannoneer 
 
 And beat his manly breast, 
 And much more would have said, I fear, 
 
 But I must spare the rest. 
 
 'Twould make the ladies cry, I ween. 
 
 They are so wondrous tender 
 His life was short, his death serene, 
 
 His epitaph was slender 
 
 " Here lies an amorous cannoneer, 
 
 With mellow heart if ever ; 
 Ladies avaunt, yet shed a tear 
 
 He died of yeUow fever!" 
 COTTAGE HILL, ALA., September 7, 1863. 
 
 Farewell to thee, loved one, false-hearted, 
 Who could love and forget in a breath 
 
 Oh ! who would have thought, when we parted. 
 That aught would divide us but death ?
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 43 
 
 For she said that she loved me and swore it 
 
 I read the false tale in her eyes 
 Oh ! I'll pick out a star and adore it, 
 
 For this world's of divisions and lies ! 
 
 Of all women I thought she'd be true ; 
 That I should be so quickly forsaken ! 
 
 So artful, yet beautiful too 
 Oh, why that I was so mistaken ? 
 
 Or, did you believe that I lied, say 
 When I vowed by my own sainted mother 
 
 To cherish and love till I died, say 
 And never to love any other ? 
 
 Can such memories e'er be forgotten ? 
 
 What good did the falsehood to thee ''. 
 For those treasures of love, thus ill gotten, 
 
 They are lout both to yon and to me! 
 
 Though you're gone to return to me never, 
 Your cross still remains on my breast 
 
 And your portrait still smiles on as ever 
 But, alas, that will fade like the rest ! 
 
 I will never more love or believe 
 
 I will live with my thoughts and my visions 
 
 For the lifeless alone won't deceive 
 And this world is of blights and divisions !
 
 44 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Then fare thee well, loved one, false-hearted. 
 
 Who could love and forget in a breath 
 Oh ! who would have thought when we parted 
 
 That aught would divide us but death ! 
 IK TH FIELD N*AR DALTON, UA., Dec. 17, 1863. 
 
 Wastes may divide us and distance may hide us 
 
 From each other's eyes, 
 But true hearts once plighted are ever united 
 
 By fond memories ; 
 
 Our sorrows may flow, but the bosom's warm glow 
 
 Will dry up those tears, 
 Whilst the promising future, all sunlight and rapture, 
 
 Dispels our fears ; 
 
 Ah! let us love ever, and distance may sever, 
 
 But never us part ; 
 What tho' death separate us ? the blue heavens await us, 
 
 Tour heart and my heart ! 
 DALTON, G\., December 2, 1863.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 45 
 
 SHORT RATIONS. 
 
 A SONG. DEDICATED TO THE CORNKED ARMY OF TENNESSEE. 
 
 Fair ladies and maids of all ages, 
 
 Little girls and cadets howe'er youthful, 
 Homeguards, quartermasters and sages 
 
 Who edit newspapers .so truthful ; 
 Clerks, surgeons and supes, legislators, 
 
 Staff officers, fops of the nation. 
 And even you, dear speculators. 
 
 Come list to my song of starvation. 
 
 CHORUS : 
 For we soldiers have seen something rougher 
 
 Than a storm, a retreat or a fight, 
 But the body may toil on and suffer 
 
 With a smile, so the heart is all right ! 
 
 Our bugles had roused up the camp. 
 
 The heavens looked dismal and dirty, 
 The earth was unpleasant and damp, 
 
 Like a maid on the wrong side of thirty 
 We were taking these trials with quiet, 
 
 When we heard from the mouth of some rash ones 
 That the army was all put on diet, 
 
 And the board had diminished the rations ! 
 CHORUS : Oh, we soldiers, etc.
 
 46 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Reduce our rations at all ! 
 
 It was difficult, yet it was done 
 We had one meal a day, it was small, 
 
 Are we now, holy Gods, to have none ? 
 Oh ye gentlemen issuing rations 
 
 Give at least half her own to the State, 
 Fut a curb on your lust and your passions 
 
 And commissaries commiserate ! 
 CHORUS : Oh, we soldiers, etc. 
 
 Tell me not of the Lacedemonian, 
 
 Of his black broth and savage demeanor. 
 We carry a face less Plutonian, 
 
 But I swear our corn coffee is meaner! 
 Tell me nothing of ancients and strangers, 
 
 For on seeing our Southern-bred Catos, 
 I have laughed at old Marion's rangers 
 
 Who feasted on roasted potatoes ! 
 CHORUS : Oh. we soldiers, etc. 
 
 Erewhiles we had chickens and roasters, 
 
 For the fowls and the pigs were ferocious 
 We sent them to long pater nosters, 
 
 And the deed was not stamped as atrocious ; 
 But since men have been shot for the same. 
 
 We parch corn, it is healthier, but tougher : 
 The chickens and pigs have got tame, 
 
 But the horses and mules have to suffer ! 
 
 CHORUS : Oh, we soldiers, etc. 
 Is TIIE FIEW> NEAR DAITON, GA., Deo. 22, 1863.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 47 
 
 THAT YOU LOVE ME. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 Life's shadows hovered darkly. 
 
 Like clouds upon the blast, 
 And on me glowered starkly 
 
 The spectres of the past ; 
 Now, promising and bright, 
 
 The heavens shine above me, 
 And all my loads are light 
 
 Now that you love me ! 
 
 I thought that all the joys of earth 
 
 Were only painted lies, 
 That there was naught of any worth 
 
 Beneath the changeful skies ; 
 But now th' eternal truth hath shone 
 
 And hopeful transports move me, 
 Now sing my thoughts with blissful tone, 
 
 Now that you love me ! 
 
 To meet the light the shadows dare not ; 
 
 All misery flies from you 
 If all the world is false, I care not. 
 
 So you are only true ! 
 All, all, is perfect, fair and bright, 
 
 Below, around, above me, 
 Earth's darkest corners beam with light 
 
 Now that you love me ! 
 MoBttB, October 26, 1862.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 
 A. DEDICATION. 
 
 TO MKS. FANNY S. BEARS. 
 
 To you, though known but yesterday, I tmst 
 
 These winged thoughts of mine, 
 Be not, I pray, too critically just, 
 
 Rather be mercy thine ! 
 
 Nor think on reading my despairing rhymes. 
 
 That I am prone to sigh, 
 Poets, like children, weep and laugh at times. 
 
 Without scarce knowing why ! 
 
 Thoughts tend to heaven, mine are weak and faint, 
 
 Please help them up for me, 
 The sick and wounded bless you as a saint, 
 
 In this my patron be ; 
 
 And as the sun when shining it appears 
 
 On dripping rain awhile, 
 Make a bright rainbow of my fancy's tears 
 
 With your condoling smile ! 
 KINGSTON, February 23, 1864.
 
 WAK FLOWERS. 49 
 
 \V I N T E li . 
 
 "The moou she is a wandering ghost 
 That walks in penance nightly. 
 How sad she is, the wandering inoon. 
 For all she shines so brightly! " 
 
 Have you ever seen a clear 
 
 Winter night, 
 And its moon with such a drear. 
 
 Cruel light? 
 
 On its pathway blue and chilly. 
 
 Blasting all, 
 It advances, coldly, stilly, 
 
 Like a pall ! 
 
 On the cold and heartless snow, 
 
 Ever glaring, 
 How it chills the bosom's glow. 
 
 With its staring! 
 
 Oh, how pitiless it stalks on 
 
 In the air ; 
 It is Fate that sternly walks ou 
 
 To despair! 
 
 It tells us with its silent voice : 
 
 " Hope not mortals ; 
 All must enter, there's no choice 
 
 The bleak portals ! 
 
 7
 
 50 WAR K1.0WEKS. 
 
 " Think of all the things you cherished, 
 
 All, yes, all ! 
 
 Have they not. one by one, perished. 
 Great and small '! 
 
 Of the friends yon loved so dearly 
 
 In the past. 
 
 Some went late and some went early. 
 Which was last ? 
 
 Where are all your aspirations, 
 
 All your hopes ? 
 'Neath the snowy undulations 
 Of the slopes ! 
 
 ' All the dreams and loves, those shadows 
 
 You had chosen, 
 
 Like the rivers, trees and meadows 
 All are fro/.cn ! " 
 
 Thus the moon with spectral glances 
 
 Calmly, stilly, 
 On its pathway still advances 
 
 White and chilly! 
 
 And the heart that anguish seines. 
 
 Sullen hears, 
 For the cruel winter freezes 
 
 Even tears ! 
 DAITON, January 13, 1S64.
 
 \\"Afc ^LOWERS. 51 
 
 Tribute to the Ladies of N~exv Orleans. 
 
 There was a city fabulously grand : 
 
 The riches of the world were in her hand. 
 
 Her daughters all were queens, 
 Her princely sons were chivalrous and proud, 
 And glowing Fame thy praises vaunted loud 
 
 Oh stately New Orleans ! 
 
 There came a day of darkness and despair 
 When startled bells alarmed thy morning air. 
 
 And treachery kist thy brow, 
 The foe was at thy gate with glaring eye, 
 Then didst thou utter one convulsive cry : 
 
 " My sons, where are you now ? " 
 
 But they were gone and heard thy voice in vain 
 As it came thundering on the distant plain 
 
 Where vanquished foes were flying 
 Thy braves were gone, the tame alone remained 
 One single hero died and thou wert chained, 
 
 Then, Freedom thought of dying ! 
 
 But angels were with thee ! when men turned pale 
 And cowardly traitors raised a helot's wail 
 
 Beneath the victor's lash ! 
 
 Thy queenly daughters, 'fore tlr invading wave. 
 Willing to suffer, if they could but save, 
 
 Were beautifully rash !
 
 52 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Conquered, yet free insulted, yet divine, 
 
 They marched on spotless, like the stars that shine 
 
 More glorious through a cloud ; 
 They knelt, unsullied, by the filthy wrath 
 Which brutal power heaped along their path. 
 
 To Freedom's altar proud ! 
 
 We know aud love them whose devoted toils 
 Midst hungry marches and in battle's broils 
 
 One memory hath repaid ; 
 Whose patriot sufferings oft have been relieved 
 By the e'er watchful kindnesses received 
 
 From their angelic aid ! 
 
 Even in their fetters they can help the free, 
 From their dark prison sending notes of glee 
 
 To swell heroic choirs- 
 Fast fly the foe, for nothing can withstand 
 The furious charge of the undaunted band 
 
 Whom such a song inspires ! 
 
 I've seen you 'ueath the ball room's festive glare 
 And, decked in beauty, shine beyond compare 
 
 Within the opera hall, 
 And as Rossini's voice swelled in my soul. 
 My heart, enraptured, leaped without control 
 
 A slave to wait your call !
 
 \VAR FLOWERS. 53 
 
 Then, you were queens whom vassals we admired. 
 In beauty, grace and ease you lived attired 
 
 What could one wish for more ? 
 Now, purified by suffering's holy flame, 
 You shine, divinities, in the house of Fame. 
 
 Whom mortals we adore ! 
 
 Many there are, exiled from childhood's home, 
 And forced abroad in stranger States to roam. 
 
 Yet happier these by far ; 
 They do not hear th' insulting foeman's voice, 
 They help the soldiers ? tis their noble choice 
 
 To soothe the ills of war ! 
 
 Fairies that bless the soldier's weary dreams 
 When with home thoughts his panting bosom teems. 
 
 Stars that bedeck his sky, 
 Where is the slave, beneath the clouds that roll, 
 Oh! where's the coward who would not pledge hi.s soul 
 
 For you to do or die ? 
 
 My heart is swelling with exultant pride. 
 And heroic fires burn within my side 
 
 When glows your mem'ry there 
 Your sons and lovers know their proud estate. 
 And will deserve your love or meet the fate 
 
 Which patriot heroes dare ! 
 March 25. 1864.
 
 54 WAR FI.OWKKS. 
 
 THE CLERK'S LAMENT. 
 
 Give my companions buck to me. 
 
 My rock built hut so gray. 
 My bugles at the reveille 
 
 That roused the merry day ! 
 Give me the hearts that beat with mine 
 
 In friendly uuisou 
 Give me my good friend's oath and smile. 
 
 The warrior's benison ! 
 Take me from where convention trie* 
 
 On honest folks her sham- - 
 Oh ! let me hear, for courtly lies. 
 
 A soul-inspiring damn ! 
 Though ham and eggs and genuine 
 
 Rio be now my lot, 
 Though I inhabit plastered halls 
 
 And sleep upon a cot : 
 Though I possess a general pass. 
 
 And live among the ton, 
 And whirl along with the fracas 
 
 That follows Mr. Johnston 
 Though I enjoy an office, sirs, 
 
 Frequenting all the flash ones. 
 And like the full starred officer* 
 
 Buy undiminished rations ; 
 Though every day I wash my face,
 
 AVAR FLOWERS. 55 
 
 Get barbered now and then. 
 Wear cleanest underclothes and fact- 
 
 The general in his den ; 
 Though at Hd. Qrs. I can shirk 
 
 With all the starry grandees, 
 And am the most essential clerk 
 
 Of all the A. A. G's! 
 Yet I regret my roving days 
 
 Of sunshine and of rain. 
 The friends that knew my little ways. 
 
 And ne'er I called in vain ! 
 The friends that smiled to see me coine. 
 
 And laughed at all my jokes. 
 So that I felt myself at home 
 
 'Midst Fortune's heaviest strokes 
 And I regret our bivouac songs, 
 
 And full of consternation 
 1 think about our silent tongues 
 
 Of friendly altercation! 
 Bernardo, dost thou think of me. 
 
 When blankets scarcely warm tbee '! 
 Zimluco. dost thou still love me, 
 
 Though time and distance storm thee ? 
 Propheta, Madam Jeune and Lilly, 
 
 Think you sometimes of him, 
 Who, far from you. sees lone and chilly, 
 
 The Dalton hills grow dim ?
 
 56 WAK FLOWERS. 
 
 Dost sit around the bright camp fire 
 
 And say : " That poor Rinaldo. 
 Oh, what a pity that high flyer, 
 
 Jim Eustis, had him called oh ! 
 And last, but ah ! not least, Carloo, 
 
 My ever constant friend. 
 When you come back, who'll cherish you. 
 
 Your partner not at hand ? 
 Methinks I hear the echoes ring 
 
 In answer to your sighs, 
 Methinks I see your tear-drops spring. 
 
 Of a tremendous size ! 
 But, ah! we'll meet in better climes. 
 
 (If ever we go there?) 
 And we will call ' ; The good old Times '* 
 
 These days of toil and care ! 
 For memory paints with blessed guile 
 
 Past suffering to our eyes, 
 And we remember with a smile 
 
 What caused us many sighs ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 DALION,GA., March -2<\, Isf.: 1 ,.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 57 
 
 If I could write what thinks iny heart, 
 
 No words were bright and warm as mine : 
 If to your soul I could impart 
 
 My raptures in a song divine, 
 Tf I could speak as angels do, 
 
 In music sweet and words of fire, 
 I'd ever speak and sing to you 
 
 Love's theme upon the 'raptured lyre! 
 
 I nt I'm a mortal, and my tongue, 
 
 Though burst my heart, can hardly speak. 
 I can love deeply, well and long, 
 
 But words to tell my love are weak ! 
 If I were lord of earth, and air, 
 
 With treasured gems of ocean brine. 
 For one lock of your chestnut hair 
 
 I'd give them "all, so that were mine ! 
 
 I've dreamt of Love and Paradise, 
 
 And asked the stars if such things were 
 I've met your darkly beaming eyes, 
 
 Bliss, Paradise, with Love are there ! 
 And now, I weep no more, nor dream 
 
 Beneath the stars that palely shine, 
 For I have seen your features beam 
 
 And bright realities now are mine ! 
 
 DVI.TON, April 5, 1864.
 
 58 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 M:Y LOVE. 
 
 My love is the fairest, 
 
 The sweetest, the dearest, 
 The best love that is in the world : 
 
 Her beauty imposes, 
 
 Though modest as roses 
 That blush at their graces unfurled ! 
 
 She's my greatest of treasures, 
 
 My fountain of pleasures, 
 My happiness, comfort and pride. 
 
 And my heart's adoration, 
 
 Is enhanced by duration, 
 And pain becomes joy by her side ! 
 
 She is mine, so I prize her. 
 
 My heart like a miser. 
 Keeps hidden this gem of my capture 
 
 All alone and in quiet 
 
 I delight and enjoy it 
 In vast egotistical rapture ! 
 
 She is not broken-hearted, 
 Though by war we are parted, 
 
 For she kiunos how to love, and f*he swore 
 That a man without honor 
 Would never have won her, 
 
 And, hearing, I loved her the more ! 
 
 , May 6. 1864.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 59 
 
 I3NT THE TRENCHEK. 
 
 The rain is pouring with remorseless drops, 
 
 The dampened breezes sigh, 
 Each now and then a Yankee rifle pops 
 
 And angry Minnies fly ; 
 
 Our gun is scanning with a sullen brow 
 
 The wide extended plain, 
 Ready to send upon the Yanks below 
 
 Its deadly iron rain : 
 
 I'm under shelter, (?) who would call it so, 
 
 Save but a hardened reb ? 
 A blanket 'cross a pale, rain pouring thro' 
 
 The thin and flimsy web ! 
 
 Yet greybacks passing envy my retreat 
 
 And blast me on their way, 
 Saying : " Come out of there, I see your feet. 
 
 Come out of there, I say! 
 
 I'm hungry as a wolf, I wish Carloo 
 
 Would bring me up some ham! 
 But ah ! he's thinking of his maiden true, 
 
 And heeds me not a !
 
 60 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 I wish 1 had a love to make me think. 
 
 These days of war and rain, 
 I would not waste my .soul, for meat and drink. 
 
 In aspirations vain : 
 
 But ah ! no smiling lace my path delights 
 
 And I must brave old Nick, 
 The rain, thirst, hunger, with unfrequent bites. 
 
 And rare killiekiniok : 
 
 The wind arises and I think of home. 
 
 Awhile my bosom cheers, 
 But darker clouds obscure the heaven's dome. 
 
 And change my thoughts to tears 
 
 But hark ! the fight has opened, shells explode 
 
 And moves the hostile hosts 
 " Fall in ! " some quartermaster end this ode. 
 
 I hurry to my post! 
 BUZZARDS' ROOST, May 10, 1864.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 61 
 
 TO OUR, DEAJ3 OIP NETW HOI>E. 
 
 CORPORAL W. H. BRl'NET AND PRIVATE R. A. BRIDGENS. 
 
 The fitcts recited below ;m- historical. They occurred in the 
 battle of New Hope Church, on the 25th of May, 1864, during Gen. 
 Johnston's Georgia campaign, where two brigades of Infantry of 
 Stuart's division and Eldridge's Battalion of Artillery forming the 
 rear of the army, after a severe engagement of three hours, repulsed 
 Hooker's corps of Sherman's army. The heroes whose loss we 
 deplore in the following lines, belonged to Fenner's Louisiana Bat 
 tery, whose services on that day were particularly noticed by the 
 General in his order of the day. 
 
 They sleep the deep sleep *'neath the sanctified sod 
 
 Made holy with patriot gore ; 
 Tfaey are resting lor aye in the bosoui of God. 
 
 The bugle will wake them no more ! 
 
 No more will they thunder their wrath on the foes. 
 
 Nor smile on their friends as of yore, 
 By Honor's proud voice they were lulled to repose. 
 
 Their knell Avas the fierce battle roar ! 
 
 One died he had sighted his gun ere he fell, 
 
 That round was the Corporal's last ; 
 His soul on the canister rushed with a yell 
 
 And scattered the foe as it passed ! 
 
 None braver in battle, in camp none more kind, 
 On the march and bivouac none so gay ; 
 
 Let him rest in the hearts of his friends he's enshrined 
 And God Freedom's debt will repay !
 
 ba WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Another was tending the trail came the shot 
 
 And buried itself in his head 
 His brother stretched out the pale corse murmured not. 
 
 And stern, took the place of the dead ! 
 
 He also was struck but unmoved he remained. 
 
 At his post like a statue he stood, 
 Till his third brother came on the ground, crimson staiu'd 
 
 By the flow of his own kindred blood ! 
 
 'Twas then the young Spartan on giving his place 
 
 To the last of the heroic three, 
 Said : "Brother,'' then looking the dead in the face, 
 
 " Give them one for revenge and for me !'' 
 
 No more need we look in dead history's page 
 
 Our souls with devotion to fire, 
 For our eyes have beheld in this country and age 
 
 How heroes and freemen expire ! - 
 
 All honor and fame to the good and the brave, 
 
 The dead of our patriot band, 
 The martyrs who perished their country to save 
 
 At Liberty's welcome command ! 
 
 KENNESAW RIDGE, June 16, 1864.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 63 
 
 ODE TO A. BODY JL.OTJSK. 
 
 Let others sing of strife and war's alarms 
 
 And waste their breath ; 
 To me the subject is devoid of charms 
 
 That treats of death 
 Too many horrors meet the poet's eye, 
 When war's fell torch glares blood red in the sky. 
 
 Let bards more favored sing of love and wine. 
 
 Who get such things, 
 To me, no woman, nor no drink divine 
 
 Its solace brings, 
 
 Wedded to war, a most ungrateful spouse, 
 I sing the glories of the body louse ! 
 
 What and whence art thou, creeping thing of dirt. 
 
 And what thine aim, 
 When thus thou treadest r ncath the soldier's shirt 
 
 The paths of fame ? 
 
 AVhere mud is deepest, and where balls fly thickest. 
 To heroes' underclothes thou ever stickest. 
 
 A martyr to some cause which heaven knows, (?) 
 
 With none to nurse you, 
 You walk life's road companion to your foes 
 
 And those that curse you ! 
 Thou hast thy loves and pfocreatest fast. 
 Ah ! such the fate of pariah and outcast !
 
 64 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Dost ever think? Dost sing with nature's choir 
 
 The fated song ? 
 They say no dust than other dust stands higher. 
 
 The god's among, 
 
 Then why should man despise the equal form. 
 Himself made out of dirt, a larger worm ? 
 
 I do not love thee, for thou never sloepest. 
 
 Yet though I kill thee, 
 'Tis not thro' malice, but with sorrow deepest 
 
 And but to still thee ; 
 
 Thus both the opposing wills of Fate fulfill. 
 Your part's to bite and die I scratch and kill. 
 
 But not alone with soldiers- dost remain 
 
 On beauty's neck 
 I've seen you creeping, scandalously plain. 
 
 A startling speck ; * 
 
 I'm sure tJwu couldst have told a moving tale. 
 Of love exchanges 'tween the brave and frail. 
 
 Cosmopolite, thoulivt^l ;it Immr with all 
 
 Both rich and poor, 
 On priest and layman thou art known to crawl. 
 
 On king and boor 
 
 But with the infantry thou, must dclightest 
 And at their warlike skins devoutly bitest. 
 
 ^Historical.
 
 WAR FLO WEltK. 
 
 Like Hamlet muffled in his inky cloak. 
 
 You "/enow no seams," 
 Beneath the staff's white linen patent yoke 
 
 Your gentry teems ; 
 Even the escort cannot stop your raids. 
 And ticklish generals curse at lousy aids?. 
 
 And now, farewell the time may come, at last, 
 
 When we will part, 
 Then Fame will tell how in the glorious pn.-<t 
 
 Thou 'st done thy part 
 
 ilow of each patriot toil thou 'st borne thy share, 
 For where the army was, " thou sure icert there /" 
 Iy THE KIBI.P NEAR MARIETTA. GA., June 15, 1864. 
 
 The clouds are white; and creamy. 
 
 The heavens serenely blue. 
 My thoughts, reposed and dreamy. 
 
 Are turned to love and you. 
 Beneath the azure's glory. 
 
 My meltiug spirit moves. 
 And reads a wondrous story 
 
 Of undivided loves !
 
 fifi WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Warm glow my heated faucies 
 
 In gold and purple drest, 
 And heaven's returning glances 
 
 Fire my loving breast- 
 All nature swims in glory. 
 
 And as they pass, the doves 
 Relate the wondrous story 
 
 Of undivided loves ! 
 
 I think and I remember 
 
 One night, thy hand in mine, 
 We pledged 'twas in December 
 
 Oh bright the stars did shine ! 
 And in the midnight's glory, 
 
 Each twinkling star that roves. 
 Recalled the wondrous story 
 
 Of undivided loves ! 
 TKESCITES. ATLANTA, August 13,1364. 
 
 To a M-othei*, on the Loss of her Child. 
 
 Why should the beauteous flowers fade. 
 
 Or children die ? 
 Why should all light be merged in shade 
 
 Beneath the sky ?
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 67 
 
 A mother's joys, a mother's tears, 
 
 Are they, oh Lord. 
 As idle as a maiden's fears 
 
 Before thy word ? 
 
 Or did you need for some new earth 
 
 A fresher breath ? 
 Fate gives to every note of birth 
 
 An echo Death ! 
 
 Bright flowers fade, children dio. 
 
 But they return all 
 To that bright realm where in the sky 
 Spring reigns eternal ! 
 
 Weep mother, let your sorrows How. 
 
 But do not murmur. 
 God tries his loved ones, and each blow 
 
 But makes them firmer 
 
 Kach evil is mixed with good, your child 
 
 Is now an angel 
 Take comfort in the assurance mild 
 
 Of God's evangi-1. 
 
 What though we bleed'.' Deep sorrow bring.* 
 
 Peace to the soul ; 
 Each Christian tear the mourner wina-s 
 
 Nearer the goal ! 
 ATIAWTA, August 13, 1864.
 
 68 AVAR KI.OWERS 
 
 CHARGE OF THE LOUISIANA BRIGADE. 
 
 AT ATLANTA, OA., JULY 28. 1864. 
 
 Composed of Austin's Sharpshooters, the 14th Lou 
 isiana Battalion, and the 1st, 4th, 13th, 16th, 19th, 
 20th, 25th and 30th Louisiana Regiments, making 
 in all about eleven hundred men. 
 
 On the 28th of July, 18(U, fiilison's (formerly Daii. Adam's) 
 Louisiana Brigade, were onlored to charge the enemy's line of 
 works on the left of the line. They marched up in splendid style, 
 but their support failing them, were obliged to give way after an 
 hour of most heroic fighting, within forty yards of the enemy's 
 works. The order to halt \\;\a u misunderstanding, and did not 
 emanate from Gen. Gibson, than whom none regretted more the 
 fital error which cost the lives of s<> many gallant men. The brig 
 ade was aligned in a very dense chapparal, and orders were with 
 difficulty transmitted, where the General could only see a small 
 portion of the line, and the uproar of the fi>ht was deafening. 
 
 Thunders that roll 
 Mountains and rocks among. 
 Swell up my lofty song 
 
 With your loud chorus. 
 Tell of shrill battle cries, 
 Sing of the brave who dies. 
 Shout and immortal i/c 
 
 Our braves for us ! 
 
 Numberless stond the foes 
 Waiting in grim repose. 
 When loud the cry arose 
 On the line, " Forward I '
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 69 
 
 And, as the word was said. 
 Stepped up the bold brigade. 
 That ne'er a step has made 
 But it was foe-ward ! 
 
 Fierce as ten thunder storms 
 Rushed those gray uniforms, 
 Strained those manly forms 
 
 In the race deadly, 
 Loud rose their Southern yell. 
 Louder than song can tell, 
 Anxious each heart, full well. 
 
 For the fierce medley ! 
 
 And as the ibeman hailed 
 That flag that never failed, 
 Each beating bosom quailed 
 
 When they saw beaming 
 Forth the blue cross and stars 
 On the red field of Mars 
 Foremost in all the wars 
 
 Furiously gleaming ! 
 
 Onward through shell and shot, 
 Onward and wavering not, 
 Onward through tempests hot 
 Of lead and fire,
 
 70 AVAR FLO \VER8. 
 
 Marched on the undaunted flag. 
 And not a foot did lag 
 As went the glorious rag 
 To the foe nigher ! 
 
 Ours now the glorious field, 
 For 'gan the foe to yield, 
 E'en left the prudent shield 
 
 Of his ditch earth-bound. 
 But, as we neared the game, 
 Cold then, the summons came. 
 ' Halt! " and each warlike frame 
 Quivered with rage and shame 
 
 At the accursed sound ! 
 
 Yet stopped the veteran band 
 Obedient to command. 
 And when they saw us stand 
 
 .Soon the foe rallied : 
 Now, as their smoke unfurled 
 Tpwards, and wreath-like curled. 
 Hundreds of braves were hurled 
 
 To the ground, pallid ! 
 
 Fast rolled the sheet of flume. 
 Countless the bullets came. 
 Safely their rifle's aim 
 From their defences :
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 71 
 
 Stern as a battered wall 
 Stood our grim warriors all, 
 Doomed, but resigned to fall 
 'Xeath honor's glance ! 
 
 And as the dead were strewn. 
 
 ' Down !'' came the order, " Down !" 
 
 But with a sullen frown, 
 
 All disobeyed 
 Stood up, unknown or noted. 
 Each man as if there rooted. 
 Stood up to death devoted. 
 
 All tbe brigade ! 
 
 Oh ! 'twas a wondrous sight ! 
 Heroes all in that fight 
 Heaven itself was bright 
 
 With so much glory: 
 Only an angel's lyre 
 Burning with heavenly fire 
 Could a wild song respire 
 
 Worthy that story ! 
 
 Then fell th ; heroic Shields. 
 Foremost in martial fields. 
 And only then he yields 
 t T p his torn banner.
 
 72 SVAK FLOWERS. 
 
 You grasped it as be fell. 
 And then you died, oh Bell. 
 Breathing a fond farewell 
 To Louisiana ! 
 
 1 cannot name them all 
 Freedom that saw them lull 
 Will on her altars tall 
 
 Their deeds immortal 
 Write with the eagle's pinion-. 
 Teaching invading minions 
 How fearless Louisianian^ 
 
 Cross the black portal ! 
 
 There stood they likr ;i IOWT. 
 Laughed at the iron shower. 
 Stood an eternal hour 
 With smiling laces. 
 Then, back, with sullen brow. 
 Marched glorious tlien and now. 
 Half of their baud laid low 
 
 In death's embr:i<-'- 
 ATLANTA. UA., Angnst 17, 1864.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 73 
 
 In tlie Soldiers' Grrave-Yard. 
 
 Shoulder to shoulder there they rest 
 In line of battle forever drest, 
 The holy dead, the patriots blest 
 
 Returned to their mother's womb ; 
 The wild birds sing on the branches nigh. 
 The summer breezes around them sigh, 
 But hushed is their Southern battle cry. 
 
 Sealed up in the silent tomb ! 
 
 Sternly quiet, as if arrayed 
 
 For the murderous shock of the ambuscade. 
 
 Or, as after a march in the leafy shade. 
 
 In deep oblivion sleeping 
 A confused murmur around their graves 
 Is heard, as the moan of the ocean waves, 
 As they mournfully sing in their rock-bound caves : 
 
 'Tis the echo of mothers weeping ! 
 
 They came here in silence, one by one, 
 
 To sleep in peace when their task was done 
 
 From the home they have by their labors won 
 
 The foe will exile them never ; 
 Their loves are undying now, their bliss 
 Is rapturous as an eternal kiss, 
 And the ties they form in the deep abyss 
 
 Xo ruthless hand can sever! 
 10
 
 T4 WAR FLO AVERS. 
 
 There they lie, both rich and poor, 
 
 The owner of land and the homeless boor. 
 
 In equality joined at the voiceless door. 
 
 Which Liberty opes to the dead ; 
 With life has departed each cankering care. 
 But their happiness, purer, still is there, 
 And their graves resound thro' the midnight air 
 
 With the music of angels' tread ! 
 
 They will inarch no mure; thro' the starry night 
 To rush on the foe at the dawn of light, 
 Nor experience again that fierce delight 
 
 Which heroes in battle feel ; 
 Their bivouac fires are all gone out, 
 Mute are the song and the joyous shout, 
 The yell and assault on the strong redoubt 
 
 With the clashing of angry steel : 
 
 t 
 
 For each low grave there are weeping eyes. 
 A fruitful river of tears and sighs 
 There are none so humble beneath the skies, 
 
 But love and are loved again ; 
 It is fearful to think of the separations. 
 Of the broken hearts and the devastations 
 That will rise in judgment on warring nations 
 
 That pursue the example of Cain !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 75 
 
 A fancy comes over ray musing soul, 
 
 I think, as I look on each funeral knoll, 
 
 For the last review, when the drums will roll, 
 
 On the day of God's election, 
 How one by one each phantom brigade 
 Will arise in garments of light arrayed 
 And march to the muster where souls are paid 
 
 By eternal Resurrection ! 
 ATLANTA, GA., Angust 21, 1864. 
 
 "-A. Soldier--!N'ame "Unknown." 
 
 LINKS SUGGESTED BY THE INSCRIPTION ON A GRAVE. 
 
 What is glory ? A perfume whose own exhalations 
 
 Itself must exhaust in the end ; 
 Like the waves in a calm, all earth-born undulations 
 
 In solemn eternity blend I 
 
 What cares he, the martyr, tho' buried unknown. 
 
 So he rest from his battle fields gory ? 
 Immortality dwells with true virtue alone. 
 
 And not in the vauntings of story \ 
 
 The unknown of the earth have a name in the skies 
 Where the holy are radiant with beauty, 
 
 The soldier for justice who suffers and dies 
 Is called up to heaven " on duty !" 
 ATLANTA, Aug. 19, 1864.
 
 76 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 TO MY LITXJL.E: COUSIN 
 
 INSTEAD OF A VALENTINK. 
 
 Deai- Mary, listen to my song, 
 Advice is healthy now and then ; 
 'Tis friendship now that wields my pen, 
 
 And purest love that guides my tongue ; 
 
 You may not understand me now, 
 But read my thoughts in after years 
 I hope and pray no cause for tears 
 
 Tween now and then will cloud your brow ! 
 
 No fears distract your tranquil mind 
 You're young and artless, good and pretty, 
 You promise to be wise and witty, 
 
 Nor other beauties leave behind ; 
 
 Take care how you enjoy those graces ; 
 There's danger in each precious gift, 
 Misfortune's hand is strong and swift. 
 
 And good with evil runs tight races ! 
 
 Shut not your heart to thoughts of good, 
 Be kind" and generous and true 
 Be fearless, yet be prudent too ; 
 
 If Eve had watched, Eden had stood !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 77 
 
 Ne'er let your tongue belie your heart, 
 Nor e'en your blue eyes tell a story : 
 
 Candor and truth to souls impart 
 The radiance mild of heaven's glory ! 
 
 Crave nothing which you cannot reach, 
 For disappointments chill the heart 
 Contented play your humble part, 
 
 The little birds lltat lesson teach ! 
 
 Do not be selfish fear no cost 
 
 When others want what you can spare 
 
 The kindest is the fairest fair, 
 And richest she who gives the most. 
 
 Hope, love, believe in Paradise 
 Such are the joys that angels sing 
 With these an ever-budding spring 
 
 Will paint its sunlight in your eyes ! 
 
 Dance, laugh and sing but never flirt ; 
 
 Keep all your heart and love for one 
 
 There's profanation in such fun 
 And lying lips cause sorest hurt ! 
 
 Keep your young heart in fullest bloom, 
 For who 's it cares for faded roses ? 
 The heart whose lid each one uncloses, 
 
 Unworthy, loses all perfume !
 
 78 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 When you grow up, sweet cousin Mary, 
 You will be loved and you may love 
 
 Of your affections then be chary 
 Until your lovers truth you prove; 
 
 Then let your heart run fetter free 
 There's joy in heaven when true hearts love, 
 Celestial harmonies above 
 
 Answer their souls' ecstatic glee ! 
 
 Your life is white and spotless yet, 
 Let doubt or sin pollute it never 
 Keep childhood's innocence forever 
 
 Pure hearts have nothing to forget! 
 
 Endeavor still a child to be, 
 And God will call you to his side 
 For Jesus said, who never lied. 
 
 Let little children come to me ! 
 
 I may not see your beauties bloom, 
 Wish not to live to see them fade ; 
 Perhaps ere yet the bullet's made 
 
 That soon may seal the soldier's doom. 
 
 But, Mary, whether far or near, 
 You want a friend, oh, think of me, 
 I do not ask for much, you sec. 
 In life a smile, in death a tear ! 
 MiCON, GA., February 18, 1865.
 
 WAR FLO AVERS. 79 
 
 A REMINISCENCE. 
 
 The link is broke the boat is gone, 
 When shall we meet who part in tears '. 
 
 Ah! meetings are of fleeting minutes. 
 And separations are of years! 
 
 Ah ! the cruel, cruel steam ! 
 
 Ah, the rapid flying hours ! 
 Bliss, too swiftly fading dream, 
 
 Transient as the April showers ! 
 
 Shall we ever meet again, 
 
 Who part with many tears '' 
 Will the visions of the past 
 
 Light again the coming years '.' 
 
 Still the cruel boat is gliding 
 Calmly on the sullen waters. . 
 
 From me, with my soul is riding 
 On the cold and heartless waters ! 
 
 And the music of the paddles 
 
 With its mournful mouotone 
 That is gone now with her vanished, 
 
 With my heart and hopes are flown !
 
 80 WAR FLOWER.*. 
 
 And alone the mocking waters. 
 
 Seem to laugh upon my sorrows, 
 Seem to pity and to mock me. 
 
 Who depend on false to-morrows! 
 
 Now the boat seems but an atom 
 Trembling near the great unknown. 
 
 Smiling as it disappears 
 Leaving me. oh God, alone ! 
 
 Strain you now my fixed eyes 
 Your endeavors will be vain ; 
 
 'Fore you, water and the skies, 
 In me solitude and pain ! 
 
 And the moaning of the waters, 
 Murm'ring still and moaning ever 
 
 To my loan, despairing spirit 
 Whispers : " Now, forever, never!" 
 
 MOBILE, April 5, 1865.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 81 
 
 THE 
 
 He slung his rifle on his back, 
 
 He shook his locks of raven black, 
 
 That Hilda loved to see, 
 And idly laughing would compare 
 With her own tresses soft and fail- 
 As moonbeams on the sea ! 
 
 He started for the mountain height, 
 Nor waited he for dawn of light 
 
 Or rise of grey-eyed morn, 
 His closely fitting suit bespoke 
 A graceful frame, yet strong as oak. 
 
 His eyes were dark with scorn ; 
 
 With scorn, for Frantx did hate the laws 
 That held like vulture in its claws 
 
 His roaming spirit wild, 
 The laws that bade him spurn his rifle, 
 The noble thoughts of freedom stifle, 
 
 Him, the bold mountain child ! 
 
 The laws that kept the chamois shaggy. 
 Secure upon the mountains craggy 
 
 From rifles that were poor. 
 11
 
 82 WAR FLOWER?. 
 
 To serve as play things in the hands 
 
 Of those who ruled the rocky lands 
 
 Where trudged the hopeless boor : 
 
 His eyes were dark with scorn, his heart 
 Was black with storms, yet bright in part 
 
 With love's pervading ray. 
 That like the sun, on cot or hall. 
 With equal beams doth shine for all 
 
 Upon life's great highway ! 
 
 He loved young Hilda was the maid 
 His restless heart with joy obeyed, 
 
 A creature fair and mild, 
 And on that day the youthful pair 
 Were to be joined in wedlock rare. 
 
 There in the rocky wild : 
 
 In the lone glen, beneath a rock 
 
 That looked like some grey friar's frock 
 
 Or like an angry frown 
 Of earth, they were to live and love 
 Should the dark fates that rule above 
 
 Not crush their wishes down ; 
 
 Should they t For fates are cruel sisters 
 Who love to quench the light that glitters 
 Even with the purest ray.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 83 
 
 They smite the king within his palace, 
 And change to murkiest night the solace 
 That cheers a happy day ! 
 
 Frantz had a spirit deep and free 
 As waves upon the stormy sea, 
 
 He was a Wildshiitz brave, 
 And would not quench his mind of fire. 
 Not for the king's or heaven's ire. 
 
 Not for his soul to save ! 
 
 A path of danger was his road. 
 For cruel was the forest code, 
 
 And keen the forster's eyes 
 Who ranged Bavaria's forests wide 
 Oh, ne'er a hunter left his bride 
 
 And left her void of sighs ! 
 
 Poor Hilda prayed the eve in woe 
 He should not to the mountain go 
 
 For that her soul did burn 
 With thoughts of evil bode, and oh ! 
 She feared that now for him to 0. 
 
 \V;i never to return ! 
 
 For in the night her spirit dreamed 
 About her lover, pale he seomod 
 And fearful to behold,
 
 84 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 All ghostly white, o'erbloodied all. 
 And on his limbs a mournful pall 
 Dark prophecy foretold ! 
 
 " Oh, Frantz ! depart not in the inorniner. 
 Think of thy loving Hilda's warning. 
 
 Think of niy bosom's fears. 
 And that I shall be yours to-morrow. 
 Oh, give me not this chance of sorrow- - 
 
 Think of thy mother's tenv< ! " 
 
 Her voice fell sweet upon his ear. 
 The evening sky was soft and clear, 
 
 The pitying moon shone bright, 
 And Hilda seemed, whilst praying there. 
 A spirit made of light and air, 
 
 In her long robes of white ! 
 
 Frant/' loving heart, like mountain snow 
 Beneath the winter's mid-day glow. 
 
 With such words melted nigh, 
 But like the angry storms of winter 
 Did thoughts of danger fled from, enter 
 
 And cloud his beaming eye ! 
 
 ; Think of my woe," sobbed forth the maid ; 
 " Think of my fame," the hunter said. 
 " For should I shrink from danger.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 85 
 
 What shame would sit upon my brow. 
 And they, my bold companions now. 
 Would scorn the timid ranger! 
 
 ; No, I must go upon the mountain. 
 To meet the chamois by the fountain 
 
 With powder and with ball ; 
 And ere the sun illume the east. 
 To grace our merry wedding feast 
 The fattest one shall fall ! " 
 
 Young Hilda wept, but spake no more. 
 Like waves that lash upon the shore, 
 
 The sorrows smote her breast. 
 And that night as she went to sleep. 
 Her bosom like the furrowed deep 
 
 Upheaved in troubled rest. 
 
 n. 
 
 Why sounds the, bell in doleful dirge. 
 And moan the people like a surge 
 
 O'er heartless rocks prevailing V 
 Why sob the echoes near and far ? 
 Why the black pall and funeral car. 
 
 And matrons loud bewailinu '.' 
 
 A youth is dead, u mother childless! 
 A lovely girl on earth is friendless ! 
 The rjreat have willed it so :
 
 86 WAR FLOWFHS. 
 
 A funeral hath replaced a wedding : 
 Frantz is no more, oh, what a shedding 
 Of tears and streams of woe ! 
 
 Why stamps with joy the loathing earth, 
 And rubs his bloody hands for mirth 
 
 The for'ster in his hall ? 
 Why plays the smile of satisfaction 
 Around his lips, in cruel action. 
 
 And lauglis his bosom tall ? 
 
 The mountain grass is red with gore. 
 The chamois roam and fear no more 
 
 The whistling ball of lead : 
 Hurrah ! the for'ster never misses 
 When in the air his bullet hisses 
 
 Aimed at the Wildsliiilx.' head ! 
 
 Ml. 
 
 The fir trees and the rocks among 
 Is heard a low and plaintive sonsr 
 
 Upon the mountain steep. 
 And as it glides aloii the trees. 
 It seems a wind, a sigh. ;v Uree/r 
 
 That urges hearts to \\<v]> : 
 
 The voice that sings the song is sweet. 
 The hand of melancholy beat 
 A measure to its rhyme.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 'Tis made of incoherent phrases 
 Like clouds that rush in various mazes. 
 Or different bells that, chime ; 
 
 The ear that hears it on the hill 
 When all around is hushed and still 
 
 Believes it is a fairy, 
 Or northern winds that sighing pass. 
 Kissing the tall and waving grass 
 
 Upon a western prairie ; 
 
 But 'tis no fairy singing there, 
 'Tis not the sighs of winter air 
 
 That wild song of dejection : 
 Tis a yonng maniac with fair tresses 
 Who weeps and on her bosom presses 
 
 A lover's recollection. 
 
 'Tis Hilda mourning for her lover 
 AVell may she mourn and wander ever ! 
 
 Blow on ye killing blasts 
 The life is short that sorrow spins ; 
 The crown of light a lover wins. 
 
 Whose love forever lasts !
 
 88 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 TO A. fltlEND OIP ONJii \VKEli. 
 
 This world is of shallow foundation. 
 
 Friends meet like a passing of shadows 
 They come and they go in rotation. 
 
 Like sunlight and cloud o'er the meadows ; 
 
 Hospitality smiled ou your threshold. 
 
 I entered and Friendship was there- 
 Such memories never grow old. 
 
 They will follow my soul everywhere ! 
 
 1 would fain have remained somewhat longer. 
 
 Seen more of you. regretted you more. 
 But Fate than man's wishes is stronger. 
 
 E'er behind us there closes a door ! 
 
 None can say : " I've a friend now forever. 
 
 Here's my home and the nest of my loves'' 
 There's a hand whose domain is to sever 
 
 Time's wheel crashes all as it moves ! 
 
 (Jh Time ! cruel moments so fleeting ! 
 
 You run off with our most happy hours, 
 But in pity for hearts sadly beating, 
 
 You respect the poor soul's faded flowers ! 
 
 Yes, thank God, kindly hearts can remember. 
 
 And though met with and lost in a day, 
 Perfumed and far sweeter than amber 
 
 Is the memory of friends far away ! 
 COLUMBUS, GA., March 6, 1865.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 89 
 
 A. VALENTINE. 
 
 Love dwells within your sunny smiles, 
 And heaven in your heart 
 
 There's so much wit in your blue eyes 
 They make each lover smart; 
 
 The music of your silver tones 
 Such high success obtains, 
 
 Ulysses' wax had not been proof 
 Against its melting strains ! 
 
 Each movement in you is so kUliwj. 
 
 The work of all the graces ! 
 I'd fear much less from Yankee guns 
 
 A vottey at ten paces ! 
 
 But Fortune favors still the brave 
 I love, tho' death's behind ! 
 
 If Cupid cannot see, I'll e'en 
 With Cupid go it blind ! 
 
 And if you don't accept my suit, 
 
 Remaining still a miss, 
 The death I'll seek on battle-fields 
 
 Can never come amiss ! 
 
 MACON, February 14. 18(55. 
 12
 
 90 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 THE DYING MOTHER. 
 
 Am : " Scenes that are brightest.'' 
 
 My son, I am dying. 
 
 Where are you now ? 
 Said a mother lying 
 
 Death on her brow 
 Mournful replying 
 
 In whispers low, 
 The winds were sighing 
 
 Where are you now? 
 
 How he will miss me. 
 
 My boy, my pride ! 
 Come, daughters, kiss me, 
 
 Cling to my side ; 
 Tell him his mother 
 
 Blessed him and died 
 Where is your brother, 
 
 My boy, my pride ! 
 
 My son, I am dying 
 
 Where are you now ? 
 Where shots are flying ? 
 
 Where winters blow? 
 How the mists deepen 
 
 Over my brow 
 God, the skies open ! 
 
 I see you now ! 
 DALTOX, GA., December 24, 1864.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 91 
 
 SONG. 
 
 AIR : " We wont go home till morning.'' 
 
 I'll tell you just now what I think, boys. 
 
 In troubles who wish to be gay, 
 There's nothing so good as a drink, boys, 
 To drive dull care away. 
 CHORUS : Its a way we have in the army, (fer.) 
 To drive dull care away. 
 
 You may talk of religion and quote, boys, 
 
 Philosophy's powerful sway, 
 But drinking's the best antidote, boys, 
 
 To drive dull care away ! 
 
 Like democracy, stations it levels, 
 
 Preserving the flesh from decay, 
 It gives wit, it destroys the blue devils, 
 
 And drives dull care away ! 
 
 It's a remedy 'gainst every ill, boys. 
 
 It enlivens the gloomiest day, 
 It gives courage to cowards and will, boys, 
 
 E'er drive dull care away ! 
 
 Of all blessings that come from above, boys. 
 
 It's the cheapest and best in its way. 
 It is sure with tobacco and love, boys, 
 
 To drive dull care away !
 
 92 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 Then never let whiskey or gin, boys. 
 From your presence untasted away, 
 
 For without it, you cannot begin, boys, 
 To drive dull care away ! 
 CHORUS : It's a way we have in the army, (fer.) 
 
 MY CRAVAT. 
 
 It is blue as the heaven's own splendor. 
 
 With a fillet of white all around it, 
 Tis the color of true faith and candor 
 
 With its own spotless fingers has bound it 
 
 Tis the work of an angel or peri. 
 
 With eyes of intelligent azure 
 With a voice like the song of a fairy, 
 
 And a hoart who will win such a treasure ? 
 
 When I think of the hands that have made it, 
 How delicate, kind, white and pure, 
 
 I'd be willing in death to parade it, 
 And be choked with delight I am sure ! 
 
 Bonds of steel may restrain in despair one, 
 But the soul such vain fetters disdains 
 A blue silken tie from the fair one 
 
 Is the strongest of possible chains ! 
 COLUMBUS, GA., March 7, 1865.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 93 
 
 FOOT-BALL 
 
 AT SPRING HILL COLLEGE. 
 
 Oh ! goddess fair, tune tliou my soft harp-strings. 
 
 And make them rough to sing of warlike things 
 
 Tell me the names of all the heroes strong 
 
 Who joined the foot-ball game's tempestuous throng. 
 
 Oh ! tell me those who fell, and say which side 
 
 Turned in its favor battle's martial tide ! 
 
 The Club, of course, the warlike club was there 
 
 Immortal Tom, Alceus, Marmion fair, 
 
 And you. oh Heidelberger, powerful ana, 
 
 A rock you stood amid the game's alarm ! 
 
 The boys, by lot. their equal force divide 
 
 Between the Spartan and the Theban side 
 
 The Club was spartan, worth the Spartans old, 
 
 Arminius too, and dark-eyed Oscar bold, 
 
 And other warriors, live alike to fame, 
 
 On Spartan side enrolled a deathless name 
 
 But who the heroes of the Theban band? 
 
 Th ? undying Phosphor, named the " Mighty Hand," 
 
 Swift-footed Frank, and young Achilles sweet, 
 
 Sebastian proud, who measures seven feet, 
 
 And countless others, famous in the field, 
 
 Who, bred to battle, scorned the prize to yield 
 
 The sides are ranged, the warriors all arrayed. 
 
 With hopes of glory their great hearts are swayed
 
 94 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 A moment all was silent, all was still. 
 Save withered leaves that rustled on the hill. 
 As when two clouds by heaven's magic wrought, 
 Meet high in air with awful thunder fraught, 
 They stand awhile, till sounds the signal blast, 
 And at the shock all nature thrills aghast ! 
 Thus stood the boys, when from the Spartan crew, 
 The valiant Marmion bold defiance threw : 
 
 ' Are you ready to meet the Spartan band, 
 To join with them in combat hand to hand, 
 Are you ready ?" The Thebans thus defied, 
 " To fight, always, but ne'er to yield," replied 
 " Then have your boon and fight !" did Marmion cry, 
 And fast he hurled the foot-ball to the sky; 
 High sped the ball by Marmion's fury sent, 
 A wild halloo the blue-domed heavens rent, 
 Then rushed the boys the contest to pursue 
 
 Who first was he among the Spartans true 
 Who, Theban warriors boldly overthrew? 
 "Twas thou, oh Heidelberger, Spartan heart, 
 Thou, skilled to chase the swiftly-running hart, 
 Who, Frank so bold, o'erthrewest in his might 
 And broke his strength, the rash and hapless wight ! 
 For, Theban true, he caught the flying ball. 
 Just then thy arm compelled his form to fall- 
 He fell, and earth resounded with the shock. 
 So shakes the mountain /neath the tumbling rock.
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 95 
 
 The Thebans mourned, but Heidel running fast. 
 Still held the ball, voluminous and vast ; 
 By him you fell, oh Harry, youth so fair. 
 You had a will to do, a soul to dare, 
 But weak your arm to Heidelbergers hand. 
 You fell, a beauteous flower on the strand 
 But who will stop the hero's powerful strides 
 As, dashing on, he terror-dealing rides ? 
 With him Arminius. youth exceeding strong, 
 With thin mustache, with silken curls and long, 
 To victory rides, pursuing far the ball. 
 Him swiftly follows proud Alceus tail- 
 But see Sebastian's giant form headlong. 
 Come rushing forth to join the battling throng 
 He comes, he joins, and Heidelberger falls ! 
 Oh, silk-haired youth, thou'lt ne ? er boast in thy halls 
 Of matchless laurels on the tented field, 
 Sebastian's arm compelled thy strength to yield ! 
 
 Oh! Marmion, then, where was thy dauntless might? 
 Immortal Tom, why lived you for the sight? 
 Alceus bold, the club, the club is down, 
 Proud Heidelberger's length on earth is thrown. 
 Come to the rescue, save the doubtful game 
 Or hide thy head beneath thy hands of shame ? 
 
 But see the Marmion's anger flashing eyes 
 See how to vengeance lightning-like he flies
 
 96 WAR FLOWER?. 
 
 Alceus, Tom, with Marmion start amain, 
 T' avenge the club, or die on battle plain ; 
 Oh ! then there was so mad a battle sound 
 On Spring Hill's classic hero-bearing mound, 
 It seemed as fiends had pealed the battle yell, 
 And rose in arms the chivalry of hell ! 
 Like arrows from the Cretan archer's bow. 
 The raging friends to battle onward go 
 They fly, they reach the mingled scene of fray, 
 Oh ! ne'er the sun beheld such glorious day ! 
 At their fell shock, four warriors measured the field- 
 Yet still Sebastian, valiant, will not yield. 
 He holds the ball, back'd by our Theban foes 
 In Marmion's heart enkindled fury rose. 
 With one slight turning of his dext'rous feet 
 He felled to earth Achilles' form so sweet. 
 And as the rose that lives a summer day, 
 At eve expires, perfumed it dies away, 
 So, young Achilles, gentle summer rose, 
 Fell harshly trampled by unpitying foes 
 And then you fell, oh! valiant Macatchoo. 
 Beneath Tom's arm, and fell Ignatius too 
 But Spartan heroes on the earth are strewn, 
 Like withered leaves when autumn's breath has blown. 
 They fell beneath Sebastian's powerful arm, 
 Nor could Alceus save their forms from harm 
 They fell like brave men on the battle ground. 
 And falling, earth was startled by the sound !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 97 
 
 The Theban warriors on the striving plain. 
 'Neath Oscar's hand fell thick as April rain. 
 As golden harvests when the grain is ripe, 
 Fall 'neath the sickle in the laborer's gripe. 
 They fell beneath the youth's resistless blow. 
 Their backs all down, their faces to the foe ! 
 
 But see the ball hurled from the battling crowd ; 
 The boys pursue with trampling footsteps loud 
 So, ere the storm, the rumbling thunder far, 
 Calls clouded heaven to black and lurid Avar- - 
 And" keep it up ! ' is heard the Theban cry ; 
 " Kick down, or die !" the Spartans' bold reply 
 The ball's in front, the warriors all pursue, 
 But Phosphor's strength the battle day shall rue 
 For swiftly dashing past the Theban throng 
 The reckless hero dares Alceus strong : 
 Alceus saw, his wakeful ire rose high, 
 Shrill rang in air his dreaded battle cry 
 He ran as flashes lightning on the storm, 
 Woe to the youth who meets that rushing form ; 
 The warriors rushed, hell trembled as they rode. 
 And quaked the monarch of the dark abode ! 
 They met oh ! then, where was the Phosphor bold. 
 The " Mighty Hand ? " Upon the sand he rolled- 
 He fell as falls the deeply rooted oak 
 When loud the woodsman plies his heavy stroke, 
 
 13
 
 98 \VAR FLOWERS. 
 
 He reeled, he tottered, then to earth he fell. 
 The sound awoke the direful fiends of hell ! 
 Then Tom, you fell beneath a Theban's hand- 
 Your form adorned fair Spring Hill's golden sand : 
 You're down, but cheered the Spartans as you fell. 
 Your shout swelled up the raging battle yoll 
 
 Who overthrew th' immortal strength of Tom '' 
 
 'Twas one who from fair Canton town had come 
 
 T' enjoy the latin poets' deathless names, 
 
 And show his might in Spring Hill foot-ball games : 
 
 'Twas mighty Sherrod high his head he bears. 
 
 His golden hair in silken curls he wears, 
 
 His sinews steel, his heart is passing bold. 
 
 He boasts descent from Pelopidas old 
 
 But Marmion and Alceus both unite 
 
 To wreak their vengeance on the Sherrod's might, 
 
 And save the honor of the club in fight 
 
 They rush on valiant Sherrod raging high. 
 
 They meet, and Canton maidens loud will sigh. 
 
 For heavenly Sherrod on the ground lies low. 
 
 Hurled from his feet by warlike Spartan foe, 
 
 Bathed in the blood which trickles from his nose. 
 
 Long will the Theban feel Alceus' blows ! 
 
 But while engaged thus, Alceus and his friend. 
 From Canton r s brows the laurels green to rend. 
 Ar'minius, swift as sparrow on the wing, 
 Seizes the ball, then with a sudden spring
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 99 
 
 He leaps in air and kicks the volume round - 
 The ball emits a hollow, moaning sound. 
 Obedient to the Spartan's skillful care, 
 It rushes whistling thro' th' opposing air. 
 Then as a shell by blazing powder thrown 
 High in mid air. when, rapid, it has flown. 
 Describes a curving parabola there. 
 So turns the ball its bending course and fair : 
 It falls, and far behind the Theban base, 
 With many a bound it stops its headlong race 
 Thus, in the wold, by hunter's arrow struck. 
 High bounds in air the branch adorned buck. 
 Some hundred yards with many a leap it flies 
 Then, drained of blood, with tearful eyelids dies 
 The victor Spartan's loudly cheer the game. 
 Extoll to heaven Arminius' glorious name, 
 The Theban warriors mournful hang their heads, 
 And sigh t' enshroud their shame in drowsy beds 
 The Spartan hero bears the victor's prize, 
 A gorgeous foot-ball of prodigious size. 
 With dexterous kick he speeds the ball on high. 
 With many groans it dares the glaring sky, 
 Then seek the feast, the friendly foemen all, 
 With three hurrahs for Spartan skill at ball !
 
 100 WAK FLOWERS. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE . 
 
 Twas night, and all was silent on the hill. 
 In darkness was enveloped Israel's host, 
 And Jeptha's daughter in the gloom of night, 
 Thus prayed and M-ept her most untimely death : 
 
 The youthful vine each day enjoys the sun, 
 The infant corn fears not the reaper's blow, 
 Most flowers e'en will live more days than one. 
 But as a rose to-day I live and die ! 
 
 My comrades, when I shall be laid in earth. 
 Will hear their children's gay and playful call : 
 Their son as manly as his father see 
 But I must die in life's primeval bloom ! 
 When old age comes, their parents worn and weak. 
 In their sweet arms will lay time-weary limbs, 
 Will die in peace, with children weeping 'round. 
 Yet childless mine : alas ! to-day I die ! 
 
 Oh, thou ! who nearest maidens' mournful notes, 
 Behold my father's tears, arrest their stream ; 
 On him bestow, with compensating hand. 
 The happy days which thou hast snatched from me ; 
 Oh, then, Almighty God ! I'll happy die !
 
 WAR FLOWERS. 101 
 
 BLANCHE. 
 
 When music with melodious voice 
 
 Speaks to my dreaming soul, 
 And pleasure bids my heart rejoice, 
 
 To drain the sparkling bowl, 
 I think of one with lustrous eyes. 
 
 Brighter than solar beams. 
 And thoughts of bliss within me riw 
 
 That smile upon my dreams. 
 
 When shines the sun and skies look gay. 
 
 Or drops the winter rain, 
 When clouds obscure the summer day 
 
 I think of her again ; 
 Dost think of him who, since we met. 
 
 Has always thought of you ? 
 Twere madness to believe it, yet, 
 
 Twere blissful madness too ! 
 
 Now war's alarums wring the air 
 And valor smiles on death ; 
 
 And youths to myrtle blossoms fail- 
 Prefer the laurel wreath, 
 
 But when sweet Peace from heaven above 
 Brings back the olive branch, 
 
 Oh ! let me hope the soldier's love 
 Will move the heart of Blanche !
 
 102 WAR FLOWERS. 
 
 CONQUERED, 
 
 Like the bird who sings at midnight 
 
 I am lone, 
 And the burden of my song's flight 
 
 Is a groan ! 
 Like the flames that sparkless languish 
 
 Burns my soul, 
 Round my heart the waves of anguish 
 
 Sullen roll. 
 
 For 1 once believed and now 
 
 I despair 
 For my hopes are lying low. 
 
 Stark and bare ! 
 For I fought the glorious battle. 
 
 Freedom's fight, 
 Hearing through its smoke and rattle 
 
 Words of light ; 
 And the right was crushed and broken 
 
 At my feet, 
 And the words of light a token 
 
 Of deceit ! 
 
 Oh! we lead a life of sorrow 
 
 And of lies ! 
 Who can say : I see to-morrow 
 
 In the skies ?
 
 WAK FLOWERS. 103 
 
 Who caii say my love is certain. 
 
 Or iny hate ? 
 Who can lift the heavy curtain 
 
 Of his fate ? 
 Who can say who tastes of bliss, 
 
 >Tis forever ? 
 Where's the pair when spent the kiss 
 
 Did not sever? 
 Where's the day that was not swallowed 
 
 Up by night ? 
 Where the faith that issued hallowed 
 
 From the fight '.' 
 
 Yes, I've seen my comrades bleeding 
 
 Like a rain. 
 With their crimson gashes pleading 
 
 All in vain ! 
 I have seen the flag deserted 
 
 In its need, 
 "While the foe's exultant flirted 
 
 In its stead : 
 And I've seen the shameless traitors. 
 
 False and hollow, 
 Fawning on their country's hater- 
 
 For a dollar ! 
 Seen the freedom that I cherish 
 
 Bound with ropes. 
 And I could not even perish 
 
 With my hopes !
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 60, last stanza, second line, 
 And moves the hostile /*.<?/. 
 
 Page 63, first stanza, fifth line, 
 Then why should man despise thy equal form ' 
 
 Page 71, first stanza, fourth line. 
 'Xeath honor's glances. 
 
 Page 75, A Soldier Name unknown, 
 Lines suggested by the abore inscription, He. 
 
 Page 76, third stanza, first line, 
 
 No fears disturb your tranquil mind. 
 
 Page 70, third stanza, second lino, 
 
 We who part with many tear?. 
 
 Page 80, last stanza, third line, 
 
 To my lone despairing spirit.
 
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