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APOCALYPSE.
Is woman a coward? No, no, she is brave!Oh! nothing but love ever made her a slave;In home's happy circle she's poetry's lark,But threaten that home and she's Joan of Are.
O Abraham Lincoln! we call thee to hark,Thou Comet of Satan! thou Beast of the Dark!Take off thy red shadow from Washington's land—Back! back! for thy footstep is slavery's brand.Future-eyed prophecy cries to thee, Down!For she sees on thy forehead the hope of a Crown;The fire that sleeps in our Southern eyes dark,Would lighten in battle—we're Joans of Arc.
APOCALYPSE.
"All Hail to the Stars and Stripes!"
Luther C. Ladd.[1]
STRAIGHT to his heart the bullet crushed, Down from his breast the red blood gushed,And o'or his face a glory rushed.
- ↑ Killed at Baltimore, Md., April 13, 1861.
