Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1868-09-23
(From the Evening Post.)
The "LOSt Cause"
VIDE WADE HAMPTON 8 SPEECHES.

VIDE WADE HAMPTON SPEECHES.
Last night, as l was wandering home,
And musing on events to come.
Dimly, from out the ruddy glare
OF gaslight shimmering through the air,
An image of dusky hue
Loomed slowly upward to my view
With reeling step it groped its way.
Till meath a lam-post's quivering ray,
l caught the letters c. S. A.
l saw the rusty coat of gray,
Which clothed figure, tall and thin,
Most strongly redolent of gin;
Fast clinging to the iron shaft,
1t tcoughed, and whined, and feebly laughed
And then, from faltering lips "there rung
These accents, of tipsy tongue;
81 say, my friend ! now just look here
Where can it be? tits very queer
But, though I've hunted DER the Park,
And searched the city through till dark,
l cannot find the thing I've lost;
Though rivers, mountains | have crossed
I've failed to get single trace,
To guide me to its hiding place.
Somehow It's gone, and, like Othello's,
Or some of those old fighting fellows,
My Occupation with it fled,
And | might Just as well be dead.
Say, can't you help me in my search?
Don't leave brother in the lurch."
"What hast thou lost, oh grisly sprite,
Strange, dubious phantom of the night?
What banished gem of priceless worth,
Dooms thee to wander thus on earth?
Describe the thing, and for the rest,
I'll gladly aid thee in thy quest
"Why, look here, mister (the reply
Was clogged with many maudlin sigh, J
I've lost the Cause, the Cause (d'ye see p
Worth more than aught beside TO me:
The noble cause, which for long years,
Drenched all our land with blood and tears:
The righteous Cause, whose naked truth,
Cleaned in the blade of gallant Booth; ;
The Cause whose fall, by Seynlour's aid,
Though not averted, was delayed.
l, Sir, am one of Seymour's '.trtends'
We're working both, for common ends :;
He's mighty smart, | do mt deny,
But what of that, Sir? so am l
I've strung up niggers by the score,
I've held the torch to house and store
I've lots of Yankee scalps to show,
My mode of dealing with foe;
I'm not a reconstructed fiat.
No sir you bet your life on that
But, somehow, things ant looking bright :;
You see, they whipped us in the fight,
And, though our brothers at the North,
Are putting all their muscle forth,
By choosing copperheaded men,
To set us on our legs again,
The masses clearly don incline,
''To keep the ranks and '.toe the line, ="
And stupid asses, such as Grant,
Seem Just exactly what they want.
Our Cause is lost The southern heart,
So often fired, has played it's part;
And sunk to dimness and decay,
The fame is smouldering fast away.
The Cause is lost but, wandering round,
I'm trying if it can't be found.
I've sought to clear my failing sight,
BY drinking cocktails day and night
| see all other objects double,
Except the object of my trouble.
Come, stranger, lend a helping hand
Aid me to search, or else TO stand
For somehow things are spinning round"
just here he pitched upon the ground;
A senseless mass, he reeled and sunk,
\ case of ''most decided drunk.
Spurning the creature as he lay,
With loathing soul l turned away.
And thus in sad, yet grateful strain,
Ny thoughts resumed their track again.
Yes, it is lost thank God It's lost
Long was our stately vessel tossed.
With shattered planks and canvas rent,
Till the foul storm at length was spent.
Now Justice to the faithful few,
W no stood, unbribed amid her crew,
Till willing hands could mount her deck,
And save her from the threatened wreck
Now. decent homage TO the dead
Who for her rescue, starved and bled
Respect for men, whose forces gone,
With crippled limbs still struggle on;
Demand, that while Ger all the past,
a pardoning veil we freely cast,
This motto stands recorded yet:
Let us forgive, but not forget
Let Treason whine a doleful stave;
Let Hampton tears bedew it's grave.
We've buried it so fast and deep,
That noisome weeds shall never creep
From out its fostering decay.
To spread anew their baneful sway.
Thank God tits lost ! that venomed chain,
No hand shall ever forge again
And now, when baffled traitors try,
To make their shame rallying cry,
When lips which, but few year past,
Breathed fire and slaughter to the last,
Ply all their eloquence and art,
To rouse some pity in the heart.
For the Lost Cause, the sdear Lost Cause,
Shall such stale tricks command applause?
Nay ! treat them as an empty jest.
Flung from the lips of one possessed
Let all true men esteem it shame,
To give 1.-The cause milder name,
Than that which stamped it from the first,
A loathsome thing, cause accursed.
p. R. S.
Flushing Bay, September Is. 1868.