FORCEYTHE WILLSON.
* * * * *
BROTHER JONATHAN’S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE.
[March 25, 1861, South Carolina having adopted the Ordinance of Secession.]
She has gone,—she has left
us in passion and pride—
Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our
side!
She has torn her own star from our firmament’s
glow,
And turned on her brother the face of
a foe!
O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun,
We can never forget that our hearts have
been one,—
Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty’s
name,
From the fountain of blood with the finger
of flame!
You were always too ready to fire at a
touch;
But we said: “She is hasty—she
does not mean much.”
We have scowled when you uttered some
turbulent threat;
But friendship still whispered: “Forgive
and forget.”
Has our love all died out? Have its
altars grown cold?
Has the curse come at last which the fathers
foretold?
Then Nature must teach us the strength
of the chain
That her petulant children would sever
in vain.
They may fight till the buzzards are gorged
with their spoil,—
Till the harvest grows black as it rots
in the soil,
Till the wolves and the catamounts troop
from their caves,
And the shark tracks the pirate, the lord
of the waves:
In vain is the strife! When its fury
is past,
Their fortunes must flow in one channel
at last,
As the torrents that rush from the mountains
of snow
Roll mingled in peace in the valleys below.
Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky;
Man breaks not the medal when God cuts
the die!
Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven
with steel,
The blue arch will brighten, the waters
will heal!
O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun,
There are battles with fate that can never
be won!
The star-flowering banner must never be
furled,
For its blossoms of light are the hope
of the world!
Go, then, our rash sister, afar and aloof,—
Run wild in the sunshine away from our
roof;
But when your heart aches and your feet
have grown sore,
Remember the pathway that leads to our
door!
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
* * * * *
JONATHAN TO JOHN.
It don’t seem hardly right, John,
When both my hands was full,
To stump me to a fight, John,—
Your cousin, tu, John Bull!
Old Uncle S., sez he, “I guess
We know it now,” sez
he,
“The Lion’s paw is all the
law,
Accordin’ to J.B.,
Thet’s fit for you and
me!”