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No. 996. — 4 July, 1863.

POETRY.— The Black Regiment, 2. Song for the Loyal National League, 2. In War

Time, 47. When thou Sleepest, 48. The Flower, 48.

THE SECOND LOUISIANA.

Glad to breathe one free breath,
MAY 27TH, 1863.

Though on the lips of death.

Praying-alas! in vain !
BY GEORGE H. BOKER.

That they might fall again,

So they could once more see DARK as the clouds of even,

That burst to liberty ! Ranked in the western heaven,

This was what “ freedom” lent
Waiting the breath that lifts

To the black regiment.
All the dread mass, and drifts
Tempest and falling brand

Hundreds on hundreds fell;
Over a ruined land ;

But they are resting well; So still and orderly,

Scourges and shackles strong Arm to arm, knee to knee,

Never shall do them wrong. Waiting the great event,

Oh, to the living few, Stands the black regiment.

Soldiers, be just and true !

Hail them as comrades tried; Down the long dusky line

Fight with them side by side ; Teeth gleam and eyeballs shine ;

Never, in field or tent,
And the bright bayonet,

Scorn the black regiment !
Bristling and firmly set,
Flashed with a purpose grand,
Long ere the sharp command
Of the fierce rolling drum

SONG FOR THE LOYAL NATIONAL LEAGUE,
Told them their time had come,
Told them what work was sent

On the Anniversary of the Attack on Fort Sumter, For the black regiment.

April 11, 1863.

BY GEORGE H. BOKER. “Now,” the flag-sergeant cried, “ Though death and hell betide,

When our banner went down, with its ancient Let the whole nation see

renown, If we are fit to be

Betrayed and degraded by treason, Free in this land ; or bound

Did they think, as it fell, what a passion would Down, like the whining hound

swell Bound with red stripes of pain

Our hearts when we asked them the reason ? In our old chains again!"

Chorus-Oh, then, rally, brave men, to the Oh, what a shout there went

standard again, From the black regiment !

The flag that proclaimed us a nation !

We will fight on its part, while there's “ Charge!” Trump and drum awoke,

life in a heart, Onward the bondmen broke ;

And then trust to the next generation. Bayonet and sabre-stroke Vainly opposed their rush.

Although causeless the blow that at Sumter laid Through the wild battle's crush,

low With but one thought aflush,

That flag, it was seed for the morrow; Driving their lords like chaff,

And a thousand flags flew, for the one that fell In the guns’ mouths they laugh ;

true, Or at the slippery brands

As traitors have found to their sorrow.
Leaping with open hands,
Down they tear man and horso,

Chorus-Oh, then, rally, brave men, to the Down in their awful course ;

standard again, Trampling with bloody heel

The flag that proclaimed us a nation ! Over the crashing steel,

We will fight on its part, while there's All their eyes forward bent,

life in a heart, Rushed the black regiment.

And then trust to the next generation.

“ Freedom !” their battle-cry-
“ Freedom ! or leave to die !''
Ah ! and they meant the word,
Not as with us 'tis heard.
Not a mere party-shout:
They gave their spirits out ;
Trusted the end to God,
And on the gory sod
Rolled in triumphant blood.
Glad to strike one free blow,
Whether for weal or woe;

'Twas in flashes of flame it was brought to a

shame,
Till then unrecorded in story;
But in flashes as bright it shall rise in our sight,

And float over Sumter in glory!
Chorus-Oh, then, rally, brave men, to the

standard again,
The flag that proclaimed us a nation !
We will fight on its part, while there's

life in a heart, And then trust to the next generation.

From Blackwood's Magazine. Few, indeed, were they who needed the warn-
EPIGRAMS.*

ing which Waller — most clegant of love's We live, it is said, in a prosaic and real- epigrammatists-puts into the mouth of his istic age. With all our modern science and messenger, the Rose, modern refinements, our life is not so imag “Tell her that's young, inative, so gay, so insouciant, as that of our And shuns to have her graces spyd, grandmothers and grandfathers. Even con That had she sprung

In deserts where no men abide, versation, we are told, has lost its brilliancy.

She must have uncommended died. Women, who used to talk so charmingly, vi

Bid her come forth, brate now between slang and science. Men Suffer herself to be desired, are either too busy or too languid to exert And not blush so to be admired.” themselves to talk at all, unless to constitu- The days when such verses passed from encies or mechanics'institutes. The few who hand to hand, and were read instead of Punch could talk well are suspected of keeping their and Mr. Darwin, were indeed “ a good time," talk to put into books. We all srite and as the American ladies call it, for the fair read instead of conversing. And even read- enchantresses who, strong in the charms of ing and writing have become occupations youth, had only to " come forth” to insure rather than amusements. The warmest and admiration ; but it was quite a different case most imaginative lover never now pens a son- with poor Chloe, who was repairing the damnet to Delia's eyebrow, or an impromptu upon ages of years with a little innocent paint, or Sacharissa's girdle. The modern representa- with Celia, who had just mounted a new wig tives of those charmers would only vote him of her very own hair, honestly bought and a “muff” for his pains. Vers de société are paid for Human nature, we suppose, was gone out of fashion altogether. Such poetry human nature then ; and it could never have as we want (and we do not want a great deal) been pleasant to have one's little personal peis done for us by regular practitioners—lau- culiarities, or some untoward accident, or reates, and so forth; we no more think of slight social sin, done into verse forthwith making our own verses than our own pills. by a clever friend, and handed round the Any man or woman who was to produce and breakfast or tea-tables of your own particular offer to read in polite company a poetical ef-circle for the amusement and gratification of fusion of their own or a friend's, such as other dear friends, clever or otherwise. It would have charmed a whole circle in the was a heavy penalty to pay for living in an days of Pope or of Fanny Burney, would be Augustan age. In this present generation, stared at upon reasonable suspicion of hav- if you find yourself the victim of a severe aring escaped from a private lunatic asylum. ticle in a popular review, you have yourself Even if the offered verses should be warranted half solicited the exposure by being guilty of to contain the severcst remarks upon a mu- print in the first place; even if, in the hontual friend, we of a modern audience should est discharge of your ordinary duties, you have strength of mind enough to resist the awake some morning to a temporary notoriety temptation. Perhaps society has grown more in a column of the Times, you can satisfy charitable and less scandalous; perhaps it is your feelings by stopping the paper; and in only less easily amused.

either case, you have the consolation of knowIt could hardly have been comfortable, after ing that probably a majority of your personal all, to live in the age of epigrams and im- friends will never read the abuse, and that promptus. It was all very well for the De- most certainly nine-tenths of those who do lias and Sacharissas aforesaid to have their read it will have forgotten it in a week. But charms celebrated by the wits and poets of the terse social epigram, of some four or eight the day; and though it is notoriously true lines, communicated first from friend to friend that their admirers did not err on the side in a confidential whisper, and then handed of reticence, female delicacy in those days about in manuscript long before it escaped was hardly startled by the warmth of the into print, was remembered by the dullest homage. A lady had no more objection to dolt amongst a man's intimates, stuck to him be compared to Venus than to the Graces. all his lie, and, in many instances, became

* " Epigrams. Ancient and Modern." By the bis only memorial to posterity. Like SinRev. J. Booth, B.A. Longman and Co.

tram's co-travellers, there was no escape from

its dreadful companionship; if bad, it was the gram of four lines would require a page of more readily remembered; if neat and well- preface to make its point fully intelligible to pointed, it was more generally admired and an ordinary reader. But certainly, as one more widely circulated. True, the author turns page after page of this “ literature of of the satire did not always put in the ac- Society," one gets confirmed in the imprestual name; the victim of his verse figured sion that society was very ill-natured in those commonly under some classical alias ; but days. The science of making one's self everybody knew -- and none better than the “ beautiful forever," hy the aid of paint and unfortunate object — that Grumio meant Sir other accessories, is still studied by some la Harry, that Chremes stood for old Brown, dies, if we may trust law-reports and adverand that Lady Bab was intended by Phryne. tisements, and, no doubt, sharp-sighted friends Even if there was nothing more personal than detect this false coinage of beauty ; but they a row of asterisks in the original, there were do not mercilessly nail it down on the social always plenty of copies in circulation with counter, as in the case of poor Dorinda the hiatus carefully filled in. Let no one (whose real name was doubtless perfectly sappose for a moment that the polish and the well known to her contemporaries) :humor of such productions made the attack “Say, which enjoys the greater blisses more endurable. Few men, and perhaps John, who Dorinda's picture kisses, fewer women, are of Falstaff's happy temper- ! Or Tom his friend, the favored elf, ament, content to be the subject of wit in

Who kisses fair Dorinda's self?

'Faith, 'tis not easy to divine, others. There is more sound than truth in While both are thus with raptures fainting, the epigram which says,

To which the balance shall incline, • As in smooth oil the razor best is whet,

Since Tom and John both kiss a painting." So wit is by politeness sharpest set ;

There is a sequel, too, even less gallant, which Their want of edge from their offence is seenBoth pain us least when exquisitely keen.”

| calls itself “ The Point Decided : "And both cut deepest too, and leave scars

“ Nay, surely John's the happier of the twain,

Because the picture cannot kiss again.” that are longest in healing. Johnson was. quite right when he pronounced, on the other

The rude wits of society delighted in attackhand, that's the vehicle of wit and delicacy" ing these adventitious charms - unconscious, only made the satire more stinging: com- probably, that in this as in many other things, pared with ordinary abuse, he said, " the the Greek epigrammatists had been long bedifference was between being bruised with a fore them. Here is one of the best amongst club, or wounded with a poisoned arrow." many-anonymous, so far as we know-which One is surprised, however, on the whole,

the whole we miss in Mr. Booth's volume :in looking over any collection of epigrams “ Cosmelia's charms inspire my lays, which were considered extremely good things

Who, fair in nature's scorn, in their day, to find how poor the majority

Blooms in the winter of her days,

Like Glastonbury thorn. of them are. They would read better, no

If e'er, to seize the tempting bliss, doubt, to those who knew the parties. The Upon her lips you fall, spico of neighborly ill-nature, which gave The plaistered fair returns the kiss, them their chief zest originally, and made up

Like Thisbe, through a wall.” for the poverty of the wit, is lost-happily– Modern gallantry keeps its eyes open, and its to the cool judgment of the modern reader. lips to itself, under suspicious circumstances ; They are like the glass of champagne kept and perhaps not being so readily taken in by till it has lost its sparkle.

false colors, is not so bitter against those who A nicely printed little book, recently pub- wear them. lished, containing a selection (for a collection There are blockheads amongst fashionable it certainly is not, though so called in the physicians in our own days, and jealousies, it dedication), will impress this fact upon most is to be feared, are not unknown in the proof its readers. Of course, such jeux d'esprit fession ; but they do not put their professional do not show to advantage when gathered to- antagonism into the form of epigrams, as Dr. gether at random, as these seem to have been. Wynter, Dr. Cheney, Dr. Hill, Dr. Lettsom, They find their best place as illustrations of Dr. Radcliffe, and a host of others did (or biography or political history; often, an epi- | their friends and enemies did for them) in

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