Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-12-13


That's akin to whatsoever
Is at enmity with God.
1t has wrought upon q portion
Qfthe people Of the land,
Tin they almost think theyr honest
In the treason they have plannd.
1t has struck the sea with rapine,
1t has tinged its shores with blood,
And it rolls and surges inland
Like desolating flood.
II has rent the nearest kindred
Zen the mother and the son;
But, as Gods God of Justice,
Its career will soon be run.
There's camp in Wickliffes meadow,
Less than eighteen miles away
John, ct your age I could make it
Twice 'twixt now ard break of day:
Fill your buggy up with baskets,
FIJI each basket to the brim,
Sweep the pantry of its choicest
Till the shelves are lean and slim;
Take jug or two of apple,
For those chill November damps
Oft benumb the weary sentries
As they guard the sleeping camp;
Drive the get of old Sarpedon-
For the glory of his sires
He will make the camp at Wickliffe's
Ere they stir the morning fires.
Tell the soldier of Kentucky,
And the soldier from abroad
Who has come to fight the battle
OF his country and his God
Tell them one who on the Wabash
Fought with Daviess when he fell,
And who bled at Meigs, where Dudley
Met the painted hosts of hell
One who fought with Hart at Raisin,
And with Johnson on the Thames,
And with Jackson at New Orleans,
Where we won immortal names,
Sends them from his chimney corner
Such fair greeting as he may,
With few small creature comforts
For this drear November day.
Tell them he has watched this quarrel
From its outbreak until now,
And with hand upon his heartbeat
And Gods light upon his brow,
He invokes their truest manhood,
The full prowess of their youth,
In this battle of the Nation ..
For the right and for the truth;
Tell them one whose years are sinking
To the quiet of the grave
Thus enjoins each valiant spirit
That would scorn to be slave;
"By the toll and blood your fathers
In the cause of freedom spent;
By the memory of your mothers,
And the noble aid they lent:
By the blessings God has showered
On this birthright of the free,
Give to heaven reverent spirit,
Bend to heaven q willing knee,
And in silence, mid tbs pauses
Of the hymn and of the prayer,
To the God of Hosts appealing,
By the God Of battles swear
Swear to rally round the standard
With our nation that was born,
With its star Of worldwide glory
And its stripes that none may scorn
Swear to fight the fight forced on us,
While an armed foe stirs abroad;
Swear to fight the fight of Freedom,
Of the Union, and of GOdl"
All he drives the young Sarpedon-
Drives the son of glorious sires,
And he'll make the camp at Wickliffe's
Ere they build the morning fires.
Do you know, child, am prOuder
OF the spirit of your boy
Than of any other grandson
That ere brought his mother Joy
And so now, good Mamie Hardin,
For the night you best retire:
AS for me, my child, I'm wakeful,
And I'll still sit by the fire.
Oh, my soul is in the battles
OF the Wabash and the Thames,
Where the proves of Kentucky
Won imperishable names.
must see the camp at Wicklifes-
Mamie, you as we'll can go;
must mingle with the soldiers
Who have come to meet our foe;
must talk to then of battles
By the ranks OF freedom won,
And of acts Of valOr yentured,
And of deeds of daring done.
Oh, I'll take them to the ramparts
Where their fathers fought of old
For my spirit now surveys them,
AS chart that is unroll'd-
And I'll show them in the mirror
Ofthe clouds and of the skies,
Where the hosts Of glory marshal
And the flag Of glory flies.
Take blanket, dear, from Effe,
And comfort here and there,
And from my good bed and wardrobe
Strip whatever ] can spare.
Hunt the house from top to bottom,
And let all the neighbors know
What they yneed, the men who shield them
From the fury of the foe.
Be up early in the morning,
Ask Of all what they will send
To the camp in Wickliffe's meadow,
Where each soldier is a friend.
'Twere a sin, whilst there is plenty,
(Let us never feel the taunt,
That the Legions of the Union,
Braving danger, were in want
Write at once to Hatty Shelby
And-for both of them are there
Send line to Alice Dudley
And word for Ruth Adair;
Then tomorrow write to Dorcas
And anon to Mollie Todd:
Say they've work now for their country
For their freedom and their God:
And If only half the spirit ~ :,
That their mothers had is theirs, ..
There'll be rapid. work with needles
And sharp rummaging up stairs.
Oh 1t stirs the blood of seventy,
Wherever 1t survives,
Just TO touch the chain of memory
Of the-sld Kentucky Wivesl
In day or tWO--at farthest,
when the'present rain is dome
You and will take the carriage