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Page 57
He came out of the West, like the young Lochinvor,
Compeller of fate and controller of war,
_Videre et vincere_, simply to see,
And straightway to conquer Hill, Jackson and Lee,
And old Abe at the White House, like Kilmansegg _p�re_,
With a monkeyish grin and beatified air,
"Seemed washing his hands with invisible soap,"
As with eager attention he listened to Pope.
He _came_--and the poultry was swept by his sword,
Spoons, liquors, and furniture went by the board;
He _saw_--at a distance, the rebels appear,
And "rode to the front," which was strangely the rear;
He _conquered_--truth, decency, honor full soon,
Pest, pilferer, puppy, pretender, poltroon;
And was fain from the scene of his triumphs to slope.
Sure there never was fortunate hero like Pope.
He has left us his shining example to note,
And Stuart has captured his uniform coat;
But 'tis puzzling enough, as his deeds we recall,
To tell on whose shoulders his mantle should fall;
While many may claim to deserve it, at least,
From Hunter, the Hound, down to Butler, the Beast,
None else, we can say, without risking the trope,
But himself can be parallel ever to Pope.
Like his namesake the poet of genius and fire,
He gives new expression and force to _the lyre_;
But in one little matter they differ, the two,
And differ, indeed, very widely, 'tis true--
While his verses gave great Alexaader his fame,
'Tis our hero's reverses accomplish the same;
And fate may decree that the end of a rope
Shall award yet his highest position to Pope.
Sonnet.
On Reading a Proclamation for Public Prayer.
South Carolinian.
Oh! terrible, this prayer in the market-place,
These advertised humilities--decreed
By proclamation, that we may be freed,
And mercy find for once, and saving grace,
Even while we forfeit all that made the race
Worthy of Heavenly favor--and profess
Our faith and homage only through duress,
And dread of danger which we dare not face.
All working that's done worthily is prayer--
And honest thought is prayer--the wish, the will
To mend our ways, maintain our virtues still,
And, losing life, still keep our bosoms fair
In sight of God--with whom humility
And patient working can alone make free.
Battle of Belmont.
By J. Augustine Signaigo.
From the Memphis Appeal, Dec. 21, 1861.
I.
Now glory to our Southern cause, and praises be to God,
That He hath met the Southron's foe, and scourged him with his rod:
On the tented plains of Belmont, in their might the Vandals came,
And they gave unto destruction all they found, with sword and flame;
But they met a stout resistance from a little band that day,
Who swore nobly they would conquer, or return to mother clay.
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