The Canton mail. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 18??-1882, 1875-06-19
CUR BEAUTIFUL SOUTH.

| Enterprise, mss, al me SpectW re-
guest Of the Mississippi Press Asso-
ctatao1l, aud rcod az their annual
coarocdtion, at KoSciuSho, Mss,
June, 1870.
What is that word whose sweetness brins4
I Memories frauGht with better things:
Its magic echo thrills the heart
| With feelings than can nc'cr depart.
With sof,'ned voice we speak it DER.
| Yet dearcr now. than Ger before
| Ills sacred. list. breathe j. low
Our cherished South in the Long Ago"
| Our beautiful, beautiful South.
A s,Inlit scene. no slladowy fear,
O'crspreadS the land we hold so dear;
| In every spot Content is found.
And white ROBBED Peace and Love abound !;
| Home of the heart Bright. happy cline.
| We view thee now in the days ofthy prIuc,
When all thy people with pride could tell.
| OF the glorious land they loved so we'll,
Their beautiful, beautiful South.
For here was the homestead and ne'cr
forget
| VIII ever be.that hallowcd spot;
| The old gray house with pillars tall.
And ivy creeping long the wall
The yard where grew the forest trees,
That swaycti rs sighed the passing breeze.
The bubbling spring that rose to view,
Mid velvet moss and violet blue,
Or our beautiful. beautiful South.
As child, we loved our happy home,
And oft in merry sport we'd roam,
Through meadows green, aud clover
sweet,
To pluck the flow'rs meath our feet
10 chase the butterfly's rapid flight
W it'll laughing shouts of deep delight;
Feel
Where the daisies made their purple bed,
In our beautiful, beautiful South.
We've watched the field of waving corn,
The tassels wet in the dew ofmorn
And along the fence with eager zest
We'd hunt all day for turkeys nest;
At the close of each long summer day.
Tie cows would slowly wend their way
To the old milk pen where "Aunty
stood,
In homespun gown, and kerchicf hood;
.! our beautiful, beautiful South!
When all the crops were stored away,
Then came our Christmas holiday;
The old and young were gathered here.
To enjoy once more the Christmas cln,er;
The house, we decked with gar.antls
green,
Woven Of holly and aglantine;
In our beautiful, beautiful SOUTH
OFT we have viewed on Christmas night,
The servants dance by the red torch Ii sht.
A race who knew no care nor sorrow.
In thinking of each coming morrow.
All those were happy, dear 8 old times"
And as we list to memory's chimes;
A sweet. sad feeling steals DER the heart,
And falling tears from the eyelids tart.
For our beautiful, beautiful SOUTH!
Happy were we in her glorious niorn,
And happier still, when noon came on;
Nor dreamed while all was glsd aud bright
Of the coming storm and wretched night.
Till black winged birds of strife and hate.
Came flying before a cruel Fate;
And as their shadows dark ming fell.
Peace breathed long sad g Farewell"
10 our beautiful, beautiful South.
The bugle sounded the dread war song.
That urged our troops with haste along;
And soon across tine rolling plain,
Lay hundreds of our Sourth ern slain;
ALI many noble, gallant Brave,
His life blood spent, the So nth to save.
But the "die was cast" the stern decree,
Our people ruined-no longer free,
Our lost and blighted south
The dear old Flag, all soilt.d and torn,
Was made the foremen's ie st and scoru;
And as its folds were trailing low
A nation wept that loved il: so!
Then sad, we laid our Flag away
With the honored suits of Southern GRAY
And bending DER our treas, tres there,
Each heart breathed fort u an earnest
For our lost and bllghteI South.
As spirit unto whom was given,
A passing glimpse of smiling Heaven,
Then -banished to. forever dwell,
Within the dark precincts of He'll
Finds it more black whene'cr he dreams
OF visions bathed in Heavenly beams,
So now we feel, as we COIL pare
The glorious Past, all br1ght and fair.
With our lost and bli GIFTED South.
Now as we look DER our ruined land,
We see deep gloom on every hand;
Men, true to duty i'll the past.
FoTsook the South in her need at last
Left her alone to be tossed about.
The tears of Angels could ncser=blot out,
The record made in the Book on High,
OF the guilt and shame of their treachery, |
To our sad and needy South!
Our WRONGS are deep ming day by day,
Meath the burden of the fOemen's sway
They have given the South Il bitter cup,
" ill her people bow and drink it up,
Does not our Southern pride still live,
That will ulUlaunted power give
To all who'll work with might and main,
To bring relief and peace again
To our lost and blighted South?
Say. We who on the watchtowcr stand,
See ye no help for our stricken land
On the distant sky no streak of gray
To herald the dawn OF Il better day
To you, we look in this trying hour.
To you, who WELD the Press's power,
Let each be brave-true to his post.
The Pen must win what the Sword hath
lost
For our beautiful, beautiful South!