The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1895-05-29
"LORENA." +"
Peace Poem from the Greenvillc
News.

singing of Lorena Probably the
ma ajority of those who We're present had
never heard the song before, = Tis
years since first we met, Lorena. The
people who used to sing and whistle
''Lorena, who knew and loved every
note and word of it, in whose heads
and hearts it rang, are passing away
from here in increasing mum bers every
year now. 1t will not be very long
until the last of them has gone, but we
hope it will be long, long time be-
fore "Lorena" is lost.
In the River of Time, sung of in one
of the sweetest and most majestic brief
poems in the English language, there
is, we are told, an island of Long Ago
/ in which things broken but made
beautiful by memory and love. forgot
ten by the many but precious to some
hearts, linger and live life OF their
own. There are fragments Of songs
which nobody sings, pressed and dried
and withered flowers with volumes of
love and loss and longing and inini-
ties of pathos folded within their poor,
lifeless petals-aowers which bring
back the fragrance of days which the
years have swept into the far past, of
the gardens of seasons long gone.
There are ribbons and gloves and but
tons and broken toys of children, large
and small. locks Of hair and fading
pictures. Probably the songs which
nobody sings lives longest. Their
melodies are woven among the heart
strings. Considered as works Of art
few of them, we suppose, would be
very highly valued by skilled musi-
clans. The works of the masters are
immortal, but the number who can un
derstand them will always be limited.
The humber composers who make the
popular songs reach the popular heart
and confer the blessings of love and
hope and memory on multitudes.
We do not know that there is much
in 'Lorena" It will never be- clascic.
Probably the writer of it had no
thought that it would live long. But
it was born in time of tronble and
change when sentiment and passion
were strong and hearts were vibrant to
impressions and impulse. Like a
melodious echo from dream-an echo
of tender sentiment, of pathos and
vain longingand lost hope-'.Lorena"
comes family, part of a vanished past
which seems so unreal now that we
may hardly understand that it was
not a feeting vision. The old life of
the South was just breaking and de-
parting as the beautiful clouds Of sun
set time fade into the night. The long
peace was ended and men gathered
from thousands of homes, each carry
ing with him memories and hopes. In
the camps where the soldiers gathered
about the fires each heart had in it the
pictures of familiar scenes and loved
faces left behind, for they had all left
home, many Of them for the first time.
Around all the camp fires voices sang
of ''Lorena. The bands played itand
where there were pianos and the harps
which used to stand in the corners of
parlors its notes hoated upon the air
from beneath white fingers. AS
months went by and battles were
fought and marches made, as the ar
mics struggled and the tide OF war
rolled here and there, ''Lorena" lived,
and the tattered and worn and Scared
veterans without tents, blankets or
food sang it. To the very last, all
through the last days when hope gave
place to grim desperation and the
black cloud of defeat gathered ever
closer and blacker, the men sang "Lo-
rena" as so many who would sing no
more, whose lips were silenced and
whose sturdy hearts were cold forever,
had sung it, and to the last it carried
thoughts back and enveloped souls in
the mists of tender memories.
So ''Lorena" comes now to thous.
ands like a faint, far away, melodious
echo from brave bright days, from
youth departed, from hopes which
have gone long ago, from life of
which nothing remains but memories.
It brings with it the restfulness of the
old South and many glimpse of
things once so familiar, now so strange
and so distant, enconlpassed with a
dreamy haze like that of an Indian
Summer a love song, very simple
in words and composition, each note
and word of it is freighted with
thoughts of camp and battle and com.
rades, of storm and battle smoke and
danger and happiness. 1t is a song
from dead country, a dead army
and dead past. From the mystic
island of the Long Ago, set where the
waves of the River of Time sweep by
forever and beat softly upon its shores,
little parts of ''Lorena" float gently to
the living hearts which knew it..
Dixie" and ''the Bonnie Blue Flag
were songs of the Confederacy.
when this Cruel war is over" was a
song of the war. 'Lorena" was the
son of the men. 1t had no direct con-
nection with the war. It was written,
we believe, long before the ordinance
of secession was solemnly adopted.
But it came into general favor when
the war was we'll begun and held It's
place until the men who were left alive
had gone home.
We hope somebody will always sing
'sLorenaH now and then. We do
not know who ''Lorena" was. Like
the singing of Annie Laurie, each
heart recalled a different name with
"Lorena. The story OF it is ordinary
enough. Perhaps that is why the
song was loved $3.50 many me1l
could hear or sing ''Lorena" and un-
| derstand all about it and respond tc its
measure with their own EXPERIENCES and
knowledge. Everybody could learn 1t
and the days when all of us in the
South were dreaming dreams destined
never to be realized and hoping for
things impossible everybody knew it.
The old houses, stately or humble,
the yards and paths wherein the bare
feet of the boys who are old or aging
men now trod through so many long
Summer days, the trees, the fields;
fences and gateways, the porches and
steps Scared and marked with the re-