Sugar planter. [volume] (West Baton Rouge [i.e. Port Allen, West Baton Rouge Parish, La.]) 1856-1925, 1858-02-06
The Grave of Calhoun.

ton News, visited the tomb Of her
husband, on Sunday last, at st.
Philips Church, after the congre-
CATION had dispersed, accompanied
by one Of the elder members Of the
church and vestry and two ladies.
The visit was atfccting~the widow
never having been III the city since
the demise Of her iI]ustrious hus.
band-and her simple and unah;ect-
ed exclamation Of "and is this the
tomb Of my husband Z" brought
tears to the eyes Of those who ac-
companied her. while her own were
streaming with recollections Of the
past, and q cheerful hope Of d hap
| py meeting in 'Sthe better land ''-
From the graveyard, the widow
then visited the Statue, at the City
Hall, and after contemplating it in
oil its bearings, III melancholy 81
lence pronounced it very good
likeness, and with the lamented
Hamilton. she might have said:
''There stands Calhoun, in all the
grandeur Of his genius and the soil
0ity Of his im1novable integrity
What inscription Of his praise does
he need beyond the utterance Of his
name ~
The rectal Of this incident caus-
es us to recur to a production enti-
tied a @'Monody on the Death of
Calhoun published originally in
Edward Fishers Southern Press
Like all the productions of its gift
ed author, it unites the smootbest
melody Of verse with the true fire
of poetry. At time like this, when
the South needs to turn to the mem
ory Of her departed prophets and
to recall their inspired warnings, we
think we can not do better than to
repu blish these beautiful verses:
MoHoDY on THE DEATH OF CArHous---BY JOHN
W. OVERALL.
Why brea ks upon the lambent air
The deep-toned thunder guns
Why hangs SO To-" mute despair
\ on banner in the suu
lht cannon hath ulcurnlul sound,
That flag is strangely still.
Not as it waved on Eutaw's ground,
Or crimson Bunker Hill.
The soft, sweet wind ssghs not Of death,
IT'S balmy as an angels breath;s
Earth. sea and air, below, above,
Are radiant with the beams Of love.
Hark like pulse when life is low,
A thousand funeral feet,
With sotenn pace and hearts of woe,
Move down the crowded street.
A star has left the Southern y
A world Of thought has flown,
And all that e'er was born to die
Lies on the bier alone.
The tear-drop steals down woman's cheek,
The stalwart freeman can not speak
Heave not the sad, the n1ourntul sigh,
The great, the mighty too must de
With lofty air and searching ken,
Defiant glance and tone,
He stood amid our giant men,
Titanic and alone.
He owned not Powers wizard rod,
He could not brook control.
He lived beneath the eye Of God,
4 pure and patriot soul.
The wreath was weaving for his brow,
The Nation's Father! but not now!
The eagle sailed full nigh the sun,
And died ere yet his flight was done.
He won, amid the stormy flight,
No victor's laurel crown;
He soug ht no battles urid light
To bring to him reuown.
The Senate was his battle place,
The burning word the brand,
That hurled upon his foes disgrace,
And saved his sunny land
He died like Chatham ere be fell,
The Senate heard his sad farewell;
And 10 like Pitts, his funeral pyre
Grew bright with high, prophetic fire.
Long, long beside the lonely tomb
Where sad pa!mettoes wave,
And wild flowers scent with sweet perfume
That gloomy, silent grave;
The pilgrim oft with fearful eyes
And swelling heart, will come,
To bless the spirit in the skies
The lips that now are dumb.
Prophetic FIRE was on his tongue,
Prophetic warning from it 'ang;
With scorpon-Iash he scourged the throng--
The bigot tool--the slave Of Wrong.
Child OF the South thy glorious name,
With millions yet to be,
Will fill the unglng trump of fame,
And bid the soil be free.
The Nations heart may cease to beat,
Aud where the sun|is ht smiled,
He1 verdu1ed valleys, green and sweet,
BE like Lyblan wild
Yet thou shalt be remembered then,
a nong that race Of godlike men,
Who welded Truth, and with her trod,
Triumphant to the throne Of God !
weekly Delta.
III (, rc, c,to,ra 10 i-,.,, arl.,oc.. 4