A SONNET.

Grandly thou fillest the world's eye to-day,

My proud Virginia! When the gage was thrown--

The deadly gage of battle--thou, alone,

Strong in thy self-control, didst stoop to lay

The olive-branch thereon, and calmly pray

We might have peace, the rather. When the foe

Turned scornfully upon thee,--bade thee go,

And whistled up his war-hounds, then--the way

Of duty full before thee,--thou didst spring

Into the centre of the martial ring--

Thy brave blood boiling, and thy glorious eye,

Shot with heroic fire, and swear to claim

Sublimest victory in God's own name,--

Or, wrapped in robes of martyrdom,--to die!

Beechenbrook A Rhyme of the War · 第 18 / 39 题