Democratic banner., 1847-02-08

solid and compact, was speeding over the
valley like a thunderboit, sped from tn,
heavens--three hundred swords rose Gilt.
terlng in a faint glimpse of sunlight-and in
front of the avalanche, with his form raised
TO its full height, a dark frown on his brow.
a fierce smile on his lip, rode Pulaski
Like a spirit reused into life, by the thun-
derbolt, be rode-lis eyes were fixed upon
the iron grey and its ridcr-his band had
hut n look, one will, one shout for
!WAsrIHcrox:
The British troops had encircled the A
merican leader-already they felt secure of
their ~prey-alresdy tie head of that trail
tor, Washington, seemed to yawn above the
gates Of London.
Rut that trembling Of tho earth in the
valley, yonder. What means it?
That terrible beating of hoofs, what does
it p rtcnd?
That ominous silence-and now that
shout-not of words or of names, but that
half yell, half hurrah, which shrieks from
the Iron Men, as they scent their prey?-
What means it all?
Pulaski is on our track! The terror of
the British army is in our wake!
And on he came-hc and hi, gallant
band. 4 moment and he had swept over
the Observation-Disclosures, dead
and dying they strewed the green sod-he
had passed over the hill, he had passed the
form of Washington.
Another moment! And the iron band
mad wheeled-back in the same career Of
I'd, the red coats fec from the hill, while
the iron band sweep round the form Of
George WaS'ington-they cncircled him
their forms of oak, their swords of
,teel-tIe Stout of his name shrieks through
he air, and away to the American host they
him in all Il soldiers battle JOY.
1t was at Savannah that night came down
lpon Pulaski.
Yes, | sec him now, under the gloom Of
hight, riding forward towards yondcr ram
PARTS. his black steed rearing aloft, while
wo hundred of his own men follow at his
Right on, neither looking TO right or left,
Re rides. his eye fixed upon the cannon of
British, his sword cleaning over his
.ead.
For tie last time, they heard that waT
~
"Forwarts, BIuGeIn, forw artist"
Then they saw that black horse, plung-
nc forward, his ~forefeet resting on the can
ION of the enemy, while his warrior-rider,
rose in all the pride Of his form, his face
,ati.cd in a flush Of red light.
That flash once gone, they saw Pulaski
o more. Eut they found him, yes beneath
he ~cnc,nv's cannon, crushed by the same
I'm, tat Killed his steed-yes, they found
the horse and rider, resting together
death, that noble face glaring in the mid
isht sky with CLASSY eye.
80 in his glory he died. He died willis
.mcrica and Poland were yet in chains
Ic died, in the stout hope that both, would
ne day, be free. With rcgardto America,
is hope has been fulfilled, but Poland
Tell me, shall not the day come, when
nndcr monument-erccted by those warm
outhcrn hearts near Savan ah-will yield
p its dead?
For Poland will be free at last, as sure as
ed is Just, as sure as he governs the Uni
use. Then, when rc-crcated Poland
'ars her Eagle alort again, among the BAN
RS Of nations, will her children come to
av annah, to gather up tie ashes oftheir
no, and bear him home, with the chaunt
priests, with the thunder Of cannon,
itn Tie tears of millions, even as rePen-
mt France bore home her own Napoleon.
Yes, the day is coming when koskiusko
ID Pulaski will sleep side by side' beneath
e soil Of EEcRrATrD POLAND.
PENITENCF.-Tl.e editor Of the New
II lz-4.-,. a,-e SMa orn