The daily union. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1845-1857, 1845-06-25
MISCELLAN EOU US.
For the Union.
THE DEATH OF JACKSON.


A. n. MEEK.
A wall Of woe through all the land.
A stricken nations plaintive cry.
ssckoloth and gloon on every hand!
A shadow DER the sunny sky!
The muffled drum the tolling bell,
The planning bugles sinking breath
The booming lannon's sudden swell
All speak thy presence, mighty Death
Yes see the star.wreathed eagle stoops,
And in the darkness folds his wings;
And 10. Won lordly banner droors,
That never yelled before king.
OH why this general grief and gloomf
And Why this sudden. sad eclipsel
All! list-the plaintive answers come,
In sobbing tones. from freedoms lips
Colunsbia,s Stricken children
A chief and prophet from their affairs torn'
Well may ye weep. Columbia's sons
or every creed and party weep
For never, from your treasured ones
nobler soul has sunk to sleep.
Your country's latest boast and pridei
His fame has spread DER all the world
And poured her glorys starry tide
whcre'er her banners were uniuried.
The nations Of each distant CLINE
Have learned to breathe his mighty lb n1%
Have wed II to immortal fame.
Such spirits q nations stars
without them history were dark
And oh. amid LIES ocean jars,
Would perish freedoms fragile bark
Then weep, with tides Of deepest grief
The hero. patriot, statesman, sage, and chief.
wall for the warrior Of the West
Who In your country's morning hour
Though but a boy, exposed his breast
To shield her from tyrant's power.
All. see his fair and silken curls
Stained With the crimson currents hue.
Yet bravely still his arm unfurls
The struggling standard OF the few.
Years pass; and, by deep forest streams,
He quells savage foeman's powers
TIL, through the trees, the genial beams
ofpeace dispense their golden shower!
Again, by Mississippls wave,
He sees our olden foemen pour;
But. ever bold and prompt 10 save,
He hurls the Titans from the shore!
Then weep your mightiest warrior dead,
Who thrice your country saved from hostile tread
Blu, now the sage and statesman mourn!
For he was great in peace war;
And laurel-wreahs his brow adorn,
More bright than victory circied there
In vision keen in Judgment sound,
In honest effort ever true,
In knowledge OF the heart profound
An inspiration thence he drew.
His country owned his sterling worth,
And placed him in her chosen seat,
Above the loftiest thrones Of earth
With tyrants crouching at his feet
Nobly he filed his kingly sphere
And ever, like the olden sage,
Led on his countrymen to share
The treasures Of the promised age!
Then mourn, oh. reft and widowd land
The latest ruler of thine early band.
Yes freemen mourn. but, midst the gloom.
Your grief and darkness to assuage,
Turn back your eyes, and view yon room
Within his own loved HERMrAcE!
The sunset of a Sabbath eve
Shines round that couch with golden glow,
And DER the kneeling forms that grieve,
And round that head as white as snow!
All. seems he not some prophet old,
Just lingering on the brink Of timel
And bark! what scenes his lips unfold
OF pleasures in the blessed cline!
The sun sinks low ;--athwart his beam
A glittering mist one moment given!
Was II shadow or dreaml-
Eiijah has gone up to heapen!
Then mourn. but mot as f In vain;"
His memory, like a mantle, shall remain!
WASHINGTON, June -, ls45.