The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-07-27

MISOELLANX Y
The following beautiful poem was svrst-
ten by the Aberdeen Miss Daily E1Hnaa-
,.er, by talented young gentleman nH.,ara o,
Memphis, who will not consent to append
his name 20 his productions:
The Prisoner OF Monroe.
The night winds moan
Has saddened tone,
AS it sweeps DER the prison dreary,
With its fearful breath
Breathes o song of death
To the captive within those stern grey
walls,
AS on his ears its signing. falls,
Now soft and mournfully,
Now loud and scornfully,
AS if mockipg his sighs so weary.
On heavens broad main,
Sad, funeral train,
The stars look down on the nightly
shore,
And the moons soft light
Illuming the night,
The dungeon walls and the murmuriag
deep
That sadly sigh DER the prisoners sleep,
Low and thrilling,
And anon swelling,
Into a ceaseless, eternal roar.
Mid the shadows dim
Stands the sentry grim,
Ever spllen, and wary, and watchful OF
Who within his low cell is sleeping:
As he tramps his round,
The echoed sound
OF his measured step breaks the 81
lence profound,
AS his lonely vigils he's keeping,
Silently watching
Eagerly catching
Every sigh from the breath Of tho captive
chief,
Weary of dungeon and worn of grief.
Not weakly complaining,
In his dungeon remaining,
The grand old hero proudly disclaiming
His glorious lineage and life to be staining
With aught of self abasement,
With proud serenity,
He asks not the lenity
or the pigmies who seek with their own
OF his name from its brilliant page of
glory
To work the utter erasement
Grey-haired and bending,
Yet greatness lending
A conscious grace with his mcekncss blend
ing,
All verify speak of noble ending
Whether he falls by the traitors doom,
Or sinks to rest in the prison-gloom,
Or n homeless and friendless exile roam
No matter how dying,
Over bastard dccrying
81 al fame, replying,
Pronounce him victorious.
But now, in his dreaming,
There fits the seeming,
with celestial brilliance of glory
gleanaing,)
Shad0wy visions
OF lofty ambitions
or that dream of hope that were crimo TO
be spoken
That thrilling dreaming so rudely brokcn
Recall it fearfulIy;
Speak of it tearfully,
While you are speaking
Strong, manly hearts,
Are qulverlng, breaking!
And bright visions come
In the nights thick gloom,
While the winds round the walls are
signing,
Freed from his chains.
On Manassas plains,
AS IN days OF yore when ragged tho battle,
The cannons' thunder and muskets' rattle,
And the riderIess steed i'll terror flying,
of the dying,
And all the sounds of the bitter fight
Come to his dreaming in shadows of
night.
'Fallenl fallen!
From his high estate,'-{?)
Never of him can the word be spoken,
Though faded his form-his vigor broken;
Though his step be faitering, painful and
slow;
Though his eye has lost it's fiery glow,
And his once ringing tones are sad and
low,
Not fallen! risen higher!
From out Of the fire,
Furcr. and clearer, and brighter than ever,
His name and glory none shall Ger sever.
Oh! blind Belisarius!
Shall wee'r weary us,
Praying the God Of the pure and the
bravo
That He may be with thee, cheering, sus-
tanning
Thy noble heart in the days remaining,
That the glory may brighten as life is
waning,
And sinking to rest in martyrs grave
Thy noble example on us bestowinG,
That with deathlcss love of our Southland
glowing,
We may know to follow the way thouri
showing,
Closing our eyes in eternal night,
Trusting III God to defend the right,
WILL RISK THE CONSEQUENCES. =
Franz, of the Brandon Miss Repub
Hcan, says:
Douglas Jerrold calls women's arms
the serpents that wind around mems
necks, killing the best resolutions.
That class Of serpents can just wind
orn,1n1 orOrnI o,,,