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IV.

"Tis no time for pleasure,
Doff the silken vest!

Up, my men, and follow
MARION of the West!

Strike with him for freedom,
Strike with main and might,
'Neath the noonday splendour,
'Neath the gloom of night!
Strike by rock and roadside,
Strike in wold and wood,
By the shadowy valley,
By the purpling flood!

On, where MORGAN's war-horse
Thunders in the van!
God! who would not gladly die
Beside that glorious man?

V.

Hath the wily swamp fox

Come again to earth?

Hath the soul of SUMTER

Owned a second birth?

From the Western hill-slopes

Starts a hero-form,

Stalwart, like the oak-tree,
Restless, like the storm!
His, an eye of lightning!
His, a heart of steel!

Flashing deadly vengeance,

Thrilled with fiery zeal!

Hound him down, ye robbers!

Slay him-if ye can!

But woe worth the hireling knave

Who meets him, man to man!

BUTLER'S PROCLAMATION.

BY PAUL H. HAYNE.

"It is ordered that, hereafter, when any female shall, by word, gesture, or movement, insult or show contempt for any officer or soldier of the United States, she shall be regarded and held liable to be treated as a woman of the town plying her avocation."-Butler's Order at New Orleans.

I.

Ay! drop the treacherous mask; throw by
The cloak, which veiled thine instincts fell;
Stand forth thou base, incarnate lie,
Stamped with the signet brand of hell!

At last we view thee as thou art,

A trickster with a demon's heart.

II.

Off with disguise! no quarter now
To rebel honour! thou wouldst strike
Hot blushes up the anguished brow,

And murder Fame and Strength alike:
Beware! ten million hearts aflame

Will burn with hate thou canst not tame!

III.

We know thee now! we know thy race!
Thy dreadful purpose stands revealed,
Naked, before the nation's face!-

Comrades! let mercy's fount be sealed,
While the black banner courts the wind,
And cursed be he who lags behind!

IV.

Oh! soldiers, husbands, brethren, sires!
Think that each stalwart blow ye give
Shall quench the rage of lustful fires,
And bid your glorious women live
Pure from a wrong whose tainted breath
Were fouler than the foulest death.

V.

Oh! soldiers, lovers, Christians, men!
Think that each breeze that floats and dies
O'er the red field, from mount or glen,
Is burdened with a maiden's sighs-

And each false soul that turns to flee
Consigns his love to infamy!

VI.

Think! and strike home!-the fabled might Of Titans were a feeble power

To that with which YOUR arms should smite In the next awful battle-hour!

And deadlier than the bolts of Heaven

Should flash your fury's fatal levin!

VII.

No pity! let your thirsty brands
Drink their warm fill at caitiff veins ;
Dip deep in blood your wrathful hands,
Nor pause to wipe those crimson stains.
Slay! slay! with ruthless sword and will—
The God of vengeance bids you “kill!”

• VIII.

Yea! but there's One who shall not die

In battle harness! One for whom
Lurks in the darkness silently

Another, and a sterner doom:

A warrior's end should crown the brave-
For him, swift cord and felon grave!

IX.

As loathsome charnel vapours melt,
Swept by invisible winds to nought,
So may this fiend of lust and guilt

Die like a nightmare's hideous thought!
Nought left to mark the monster's name
Save-immortality of shame!

Colonel Hayne boasts of the friendship of a British poet, who gave him locks of the hair of Byron, Leigh Hunt, Keats, and Shelley, which he had most carefully cherished.

I was taking a farewell evening pipe in the piazza of Mrs. McMahon's house, listening to tales of war, to accounts of Yankee violence and cruelty, to Mr. Simmons, of his two sons who fought in the desperate fight at Secessionville, and to his explanation of Mr. Russell's report that South Carolina was ready to have a monarchy. It was in a boating party, where Mr. Simmons was in company with Mr. Russell, when the former observed, that, rather than again submit to

the tyranny of the North, they would have a Prince of England to be their king. He spoke of such a measure as only a "dernier ressort," or rather an impossible alternative.

Among the passengers by train this evening was Colonel Chesnut, who had been acting as aidede-camp to General Lee, but was now obliged to attend his duties here as member of the Executive Council. When those five days' battle began, President Davis was with the General, to whom he had given command of the Confederate forces: they were advancing over the Chickahominy, the shells and balls falling thick among them, when General Lee, addressing the President, said, "Sir, it is getting too warm for you; you must not go forward, your presence will be needed elsewhere-I must command you to retire;" on which the President said, it was his duty to obey.

On the 9th of July I met an officer fresh from Richmond, who stated that the Yankees had lost 30,000 men, fifty pieces of cannon, and 12,000 rifles in the fight near Richmond; the Confederate loss being 8,000 men. He heard a prisoner taken from the Yankees, an Irishman, say, it was not a fair fight, as the Confederates did not stop to fire, but came on to them with bayonets.

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