Instinctively his fingers clutch the sword,

Which hangs beside him; then the glittering blade-
Releas'd from his strong grasp, slowly descends
To share the Alabama's crystal grave-

Its metal unsurrender'd! Heaven be praised!
Yachts cruising in the channel, close at hand,
Come to the crew's relief, a few at length
Safely upon the docks at Portsmouth land,
But many a gallant sailor meets his doom.
Shame to the truant Winslow, that no boat

Was lower'd by his command, to pluck from death
Those struggling men, toss'd on an angry sea.
History's pen cannot condone the wrong.
But, ah, the Alabama's race is run.

Write over her the legend, "Here we rest!"
Meet that the tilt-yard of the sea should be
The scene of such a burial, that the wail
Of weeping winds should wake the funeral knell,
And chant the doleful requiem, that the trump
Of old renown should lengthen out a name
That gives these waters back once more to Fame,
That the historic channel's volleying boom,
Should thunder o'er the Alabama's tomb,
Where, mingling with Britannia's trophied gems,
Lies the unconquer'd sword of Raphael Semmes.

XI.

T

THE OLD SOUTH.

HE old South! Ah, what tender chords are touch'd,
What mystic spells are woven, when, at length,

Fond Memory wakes the past! The very words,
Pack'd to the rim with music, seem to loose
A thousand nightingales! What mingl'd balms
Of honeysuckle and of rose are caught
From fragrant hedges, till the past returns,-
In soften'd pictures, fram'd in Memory's gold.
The pillar'd mansion, in the grove of oaks,
Which, in the storm, became Eolian harps,
Which, in the sunshine, dropp'd ambrosial shade,
Which, through the long sweet, whispering summer nights,
Sifted the moonbeams, underneath whose boughs
Our mothers play'd. The Southern woman! Where,
I ask, of History's muse, since Time began

Can we behold her counterpart? O, not

In Caesar's Rome, when soul-bewitching eyes
Beam'd on the old arena;-not in Troy,

When, fir'd by Helen's beauty, it awoke

The slumbering harp of Homer;-not in Greece,
When Sparta vied with Athens for the palm
Of immortality;-not in the land

Of regal pyramids, when Egypt's queen
Beheld her charms reflected in the Nile

And wove the spells for which a madman flung
His conquer'd world away. O, no! Nor yet,
In yonder hallow'd Orient, where Ruth
Glean'd in the field of Boaz and, with eyes
Of love, look'd on the hills of Bethlehem.
O, not where Miriam sang and Dorcas sew'd

And Martha serv'd and Mary's ointment breath'd
Its spicy balm;-nor, in that elder East,
Where Esther wore the Persian gems. Alone,
She stands upon her solitary height!

The Southern woman, matchless in her mold,—
Sweeps the horizon's giant circle 'round,
To find her gentle image nowhere else—
Herself her only parallel! Go, match,

If match thou canst, the Southern gentleman,
Who, in the old school, learn'd the velvet arts
Which made him worthy, in his day, to mate
The Southern woman! Cull from History's page
Its fairest models, and behold them melt
To nothingness, beside his radiant torch.
He was the beau ideal, compar'd with whom
Our modern Brummels are but tallow dips
Held to the noon-day sun, bearing to him

But far-fetch'd likeness, such as glowworms bear
To evening stars. He was the prince of men,
Whose presence, ere he spoke, proclaim'd—
The accolade of knighthood, and its spur.
Who bore the hall-mark of an ancient line,-
Bore it in accent, eloquent of blood,
Bore it in aspect, to the manner born,

Whose royal stamp of manhood would have grac'd
The very throne-room of Elizabeth,

When Raleigh caught her smile, when Sidney shone
The pearl of England, and when Shapespeare dream'd
Those dramas which the world still knows by heart.

What could yon mountain tell us of the days

When Dixie's knighthood flower'd? When men were brave But tender, strong but gentle, proud but true,

Traits all from molds of chivalry deriv'd,

Befitting well the sons whose gallant sires

Were English Cavaliers, who followed kings

And starr'd imperial courts! When women, too,
Were fair but modest, regal but without

GEN. LEE MOUNTED ON HIS FAMOUS WAR-HORSE, "TRAVELER"

UNIV

OF

MICH