The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-04-14

Ahdb eulll 10 victory 8 JuOllees are neari
Too seldom do we stoop till we can hear
The undertone of wailng, when the voice
OF triumph echoes on, "Rejoieel rejoice!"
The pen of History, the voice of Song,
The stories of the victors will prolong
But who will sing disasters and defeatsl
Who chant of sad repulses and retreats
That bravest men felt heart break but to sec
Their true souls tried To utmost agonyl
These we throw back in shadow, and we say:
Show US the splendors of the war array,
The futter of glad banners. give our ears
The sound of pealing music, the wild cheers
That welcome home the heroes; only shield
Our eyes from resting on the bloody field,
A baffled effort, and a hope forlorn,
Over century's clouds TO me are borne,
And am moved to speak in this still hour,
Of one whose name comes like spell of power
70 stir my womans heart, till half l seem
10 hear his voice like echoes through dream
Question, Gam forgotten" and the tears
Spring to my eyes as in my chldhoods years
To see young man going out to die,
| My country's gallant Nathan Hale, the Spy,
quaint old town, amid New England hills,
With fiowery fields around, and dancing rills.
| Gives the bright boy home of happiness,
Then up fair Learning's heights his young feet
| press
| TIL on her frightening list of worthy souls
| His noble name most proudly Yale enrolls.
| Next, as u teacher in a quiet school
| He shows how easy tits by love to rule.
! But, the clouds mantle DER his country's sky
| And Freedom calls for men to dare and die.
| Oh! the young heart is strong, the spirit true
For AUST cause to try what man can do.
Freedom, that shone blessed light before
| The Pilgrims, as they sailed toward Plymouth
Shore
| 1t must be guarded still, the best of all
The blessed things that man his own may call.
The generations after us that come,
| Still they must know their land as freedoms
home.
So the young Captain reasoned, all the while
Walking in Honor's path, in Dutys smile.
Now comes the time when our great Washin gton
Sore pressed, aye sorrowing, feels the need of
one
Discreet and faithful, to be found to 60,
And learn the strength or weakness OF the foe.
Long Islands dark defeat has Swallowed Ger
The Continental Boys, as ne'er before.
Brave men are faltering, all the land has fears,
And on the issues hang two hemspheres.
/
The victims office for the country's sake
In beggar's raiment, with the witling's mien,
Among the Red coat soldiers he is seen;
And here and there, with covert watchfulness,
His glances go, seeing no more no less
Than the exact position of the foe
| Worth everything for Washington to know
His hand is skillful with stealthy care,
10 map the pathway to the Lions lair
me eagle yet shall float wide-pinioned Ger,
| For ages when the Lion is no more.
Now for escape; the soft September night
Is very lovely, stars shining bright,
The twilight seems so holy, heaven so near,
Half he believes that angels hover near.
He thinks about his brother far away,
His sister, he has Thought of her all day.
Then his thoughts lDger on that high career
His parents marked for him from year to year,
To stand within the pulpits sacred bound
Preaching the gospel, till the lost was found,
And dear to him, the tender and the brave,
The fathers blessing, and the mothers grave.
One moment-he is lost-Save him who can,
The linen cambria of the gentleman
| Showed at his wrist, and wary British eyes
Are eager there to pierce the thin disguise.
The young the loved, the beautiful is now
Led as captive, up before Lord Bowe.
AS his Life's hopes are dwindling less and less,
He gives no homage, claims no tenderness;
Ordered TO execution on the morn
Though for all tyrants he can feel but scorn-
He, as Christian soldier, asks to see
chaplain in this last extremity,
Or, have Bible, above worldly strife
To point to Resurrection, and to Life
To the vexed vengeance of the heartless chief,
Ile Wagidie. the time W. hria
Until that soul unstaIned, should take its flight
Into the patriots heaven, the home of light.
Pity grows pale, and Justice turns away
To read the story, how at dawn of day
The touching farewell letters from his men
To father and to sister, were cen then
Destroyed, and he was led out to his death,
Manfully saying with his latest breath
He had but this regret he had but one
Poor life to give his country; nobler son
Has any nation ever claimed than he:
Do we rear statues to his memory2
Or build fair temples with his honored name
Associated that the trump of Fame
Shall sound it on and ever, East and West2
All, no! but he has more than regal rest
| Who died to save people. God above!
Blessing us ever with thy bOundless love,
oh, teach US in our peaceful, prosperous days,
To look along the thorny, dismal ways,
Ger which our holy Liberty has come
To sit within her well-defended home;
While our dear soldiers, still in fondest pride,
Living are honored, dead are glorifed.
Dublin, Ind. Louise v Boyd
The sociable Ostrich.
San Francisco Chronicle.
The ostriches recently turned out in Los
Angeles county became panic-strcken last
week and knocked the fence down, one of
| the birds escaping. The Anaheim Gazette
| nf tSA u