The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1875-06-16

Written by Miss Mollie l.. MCGEE, of
Enterprise, Miss, at the special request
of the Mississippi Press Association, and
read at their annual convocation, at Kos
ciusko, Miss, June 1875:
What is that word whose sweetness brings
Memories fraught with better things?
It's magic echo thrills the heart
With feelings that can ne'er depart,
With soft med voice we speak it DER,
Yet dearer now than e'er before
IT'S sacred, list breathe it low,
Our cherished South in the "Long Ago"
Our beautiful, beautiful South.
A suniit scene, no shadowy fear,
O'erspreads the land we hold so dear;
In every spot Content il found.
And white ROBBED Peace and love abound;
Home of the heart! Bright, happy cline!
We view thee now ia the lays OF thy prime
When all Shy people with pride could tell,
OF the glorious land they lpved so we'll,
Their beautiful, beautiful South!
For here was the homestead, and ne'er forgot
Will ever be that hailowef! spot;
The old gray house Wit'i iillIrS tall,
And ivy creeping Long the wall =
The yard where grew tIs. for. Il trees,
That swayed As sighed che passing breeze,
The bubblng spring that rose to view,
Mid velvet moss and violets blue,
OF our beautiful, beautiful South.
AS child. we loved our happy home,
And Oft in merry sport we'd roam,
Through meadows green, and clover sweet,
To pluck the flow rs meath our feet;
To chase the butterfiy's rapid flight
With laughing shouts of deep delight;
When wearied, pillowing our little head
Where the daises made their purple bed,
In our beautiful, beautiful South.
We've watched the fields of waving corn,
The tassels wet in the dew of the morn;
And all along the fence with eager zest
We'd hunt all day for turkeys nest;
At the close of each long summer day,
The cows would slowly wend their way
To the old milk pen where s.Aunty" stood,
In homespnn gown, and kerchief hood;
OF our beautiful, beautiful South!
When all the crops were slowed away,
Then came our Christmas holiday;
The old and young were gathered here,
To enjoy once more the Christmas cheers
The house, we decked with garlands green,
Woven of holly and Byzantine;
And there were letters in the hall,
That read "A Merry Christu rs TO All"
LIN our beautiful, beautiful South.
on we have viewed on Christmas nigh,
The servants dance by the red torch light,
a race who knew NO care nor sorrow,
In thinking Of each coming morrow,
Ali those were happy, dear ssold times"
( And as we list 20 neInory's chimes;
| A sweet, sad feeling steals DER the heart
/ And falling tears from the eYelids start,
For our beautiful, beautiful South.
Happy were we in her glorious morn,
| And happier still, when noon came on;
Nor dreamed while all was glad and bright
OF the coming storm and wretched nighE
Till black winged birds Of strife and hate,
Came flying before q cruel Fate:
fAmd IS their shadows daFk,ning fell,
Peace hreathed . long sad t.Farewen,'
To our beautiful beautiful South.
The bugle sounded the dread war song,
That urged our troops with haste along:
And soon across the rolling plain,
s Lay hundred Of our Southern slains
Alb many noble, gallant brave
His life blood spent, the South 60 saves
But the ~die was cast, the stern decree,
Our people ruined-no longer free.
Our lost and blighted SOUTH
The dear old Flag, all s0fled and torn,
Was made Che toemanV jest and scorn;