The Portland daily press., 1888-03-20

CIVIL WAR SONGS.
The Impressive Recitation of One Of
David Barker's Poems at Law
renee.

Helen N. Packard In Belfast Journal
The war had precisely the same effect on
the mind of poets and versifers as any other
great event does which stirs all the deep
emotions Of the human heart. An entire col
lection of the war poetry, good, bad and in
different, would indeed be curiosity. But
nearly all of the good has been preserved.
while the poor has gone to the oblivion
which it deserved. We all remember how
indignant the northern people were when
England demanded the surrender Of Mason
and Slidell. This called forth a little poetry
from-nobody knows who. The writer
called it "impromptu," and no one could
very well doubt it. 1t ran thus:
"Take them and welcome, old England, the trail
tors,
Though slave cannot breathe on your boosted
Your arms open wide to receive their Cypress
Should anyone hinder, the world you'd en-
broil.
"sit down at your ease, with your ears stuffed
For long they've been closed to paupers sad
You like the slave product, if others will keep
them.
You heed not the sorrows pressed down in each
bale.
"Take them and welcome old England, the trail
tors,
Wen send you the rest Tor their heads) bye
and bye.
But never more say that you stand up for free
dom,
Or the civilized world will cali it a le."
Now l leave it to the readers of the Jour
nal, if that is not expressive poetry Some
body's righteous Indignation found vent in
verse, and nothing fiat about it either.
1t was common during the great struggle
to talk freely on the great and absorbing sub
ject, and introductions were not always nee
essary in order to converse on the topic
which occupied the minds of every one. l
was travelling on one of the steamers of the
Boston and Bangor line, in the early days of
the war, when it had been in progress per-
haps year. l was very young, and also
very enthusiastic, and naturally Joined an
eager crowd of listeners around pale, schol-
arly young man who was discoursing on the
great struggle. / remember that he was very
entertaining, and also very poetical. He
concluded his informal remarks by recltlnga
poem. had never before heard it, and In
deed it was new, but L shall never forget the
impression it produced on the crowds who
gathered in the saloon of the proud steamer
as she ploughed her stately way through the
waters of the broad Atlantic. Early the
next morning we arrived in Boston, and as |
sat in the train which swiftly carried me to
my home in Lawrence, l wondered if
should ever again be thrilled by that most
startling poem.
The same evening of my arrival, there was
to be grand war rally" at the city hall,
and, as Lewis Barker and several other elo-
quent speakers were tn be present, / natur-
ally found myself with the eager swaying
crowd, who pressed up the broad steps, and
rapidly filled the large hall, until the whole
was perfect sea of faces. | do not remem-
Der the speakers, only one,-Lewis Barker
He came rapidly to the front of the platform
and with no preliminaries whatever, recited
G~l1 in aatxv
voice:
THE OLD SHIP OF STATE.
"O'er the dark, and the gloomy horizon which
Through the night, and the storm, and the hell
which surrounds her,
/ can see with faith which immortals have
Burning words blazing out, DER the portals of
Heaven,
but part of the freight which our forefathers
We must cast to the deep yawning waves to
IT'S the chain for the slave, we must fling out to
Ills the brand and the whip, we must yield up
She will live.
Clear the decks of the curse, If opposed by the
owner,
Huri the wretch to the wave, as they hurled
over Jonah.
With a Freedom to ALI cleaning forth from our
banner
Let the tyrant yet learn, we have Freemen to
She will live.
She will live while billow lies swelling before
her.
She viii live while the blue arch of Heaven
bends DER her,
While the name of Christ, to the fallen we
cherish,
TIL the hopes in the breast of humanity
perish,
She will live.
OF course the effect was electrical, and
cheer and cheer from the excited crowd rent
the air. 1t is, of course, needless to tell the
readers of the Journal that our own native
poet, David Barker, was the author, as he
was of many war poems. He wrote, The
Empty Sleeve" also poem. on the death OF
Gen. Berry, and long one of peculiar meter,
the name Of which have forgotten. 1t was
tedious in its many repetitions, and was too
many readings. 1t can prob
able be found in his book of poems, and II
any of the journal readers have time,
would advise them to read it,
There are many instances of prophetic YER
SEES written by the soldiers just previous to
battle. No one can doubt, if the poetic in
stinct was strong, that the solemn thoughts
Of the coming conflict would bring it to the
front. / will copy little poem which was
said to have been taken from the pocket of
dead soldier and which / believe has never
before been published. The pathos, the
direct simplicity, and, above all else, the
rugged honesty and pure patriotic spirit,
may well appeal to every loyal heart.
81 lay me down TO sleep,
With little thought or care,
whether my waking ind
Me here or there.