Though his alone the blood that flecks the ground,
Recording all his grand heroic deeds,
Freedom herself is writhing with his wound,
And all the country bleeds.

He entered not the nation's "Promised Land,"
At the red belching of the cannon's mouth;
But broke the "House of Bondage" with his hand--
The Moses of the South!

Oh, gracious God! not gainless is our loss:
A glorious sunbeam gilds Thy sternest frown;
And while his country staggers with the cross--
He rises with the crown!




"Stonewall" Jackson.--A Dirge.



Go to thy rest, great chieftain!
In the zenith of thy fame;
With the proud heart stilled and frozen,
No foeman e'er could tame;
With the eye that met the battle
As the eagle's meets the sun,
Rayless-beneath its marble lid,