No dull decay nor lingering pain,
By slow degrees, consumed thy health,
A glowing messenger of flame
Translated thee by fiery death!
And we who in one common grief
Are bending now beneath the rod,
In this sweet thought may find relief,
"Our holy father walked with God,
And is not--God has taken him!"

Viola.




"Stonewall" Jackson

By H. L. Flash.



Not 'midst the lightning of the stormy fight
Not in the rush upon the vandal foe,
Did kingly death, with his resistless might,
Lay the great leader low!

His warrior soul its earthly shackles bore
In the full sunshine of a peaceful town;
When all the storm, was hushed, the trusty oak
That propped our cause, went down.