Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1902-11-12
1863.'73.


1t was the first day of the Fair,
And fast, on every side,
From all the country round about
Rolled in the living tide.
All day, along the broad highways
The great crowd ebbed and flowed
And wbirlipg wheels and trampling feet
Thronged all the sounding road.
From morn till night marked the rou,
That came aud went away;
Despite the wintry wind and rain
The town kept holiday.
But at the dusk 1 stood apart,
To watch the troubled flow
Of tired feet, that down the street
In weary sort did 90.
Long while l stood and waited there,
Alone and silently,
Watching the outer, larger fair
OF human vanity.
Till tired at last, turned away;
With seeing satisfied;
The weary sights and weary sounds,
Still rising far and wide.
But ere that had gone rood
marked upon it all,
Along the street, from end to end,
A sudden silence fall.
Sec there! and every eye was fixed,
And every foot was stayed;
We saw beyond the breathless throng
A dusky cavalcade,
Come riding up by two and two,
AS silent as the dead;
Their very horse-hoofs made no sound
Upon the hard road-bed. h
No sound of bugle, nor of drum,
Nor loud command was there;
No silken flag threw out it's folds
Upon the evening air.
Nor flashing uniform they wore,
But by the light of day
That still was left, we thrilled to see,
Once more-the Rebel greyl
And nearer, nearer, yet they come,
They climb the weary hill;
And, nearer yet; upon the throng
The hush grows deeper still.
No silken flag throws out it's folds
Upon the evening air,
And yet above their heads we see,
A tattered banner there!
The banner that doth haunt our sleep,
The Southern Cross-and Crownl
The wonder of a thousand lands,
And glory of our own.
That fair hands wrought, that brave
ones bore
Unsullied all it's years;
That hope baptized with fair, false
smiles;
That memory guards with tears.
Our blazon in the days of wrath;
nnr nriHa N douo nf naooa.
The flag that guarded all our land
And famed along the seas.
The crimson field, the azure cross,
We see with more than sight!
The stars we deemed forever set
Once more shine through the night.
Forgotten are our fetters now,
Forgotten all our pain
These riders bring spell with them,
And we are free again!
SO strange they seem, there comes {
doubt
If these be living men!
We cannot think we look upon
That glorious host again.
Yet here they ride; and these not all
We see them far along;
Behind, before, by Thousands more,
The old-time squadrons throrg.
There goes the Army of the North
There Johnston and the West;
An angry wave that rolleth on
With bayOnetted crest.
Once moro the light of Jackson's SWORD
Far flashes through the gloom
There Ashby rides; and there, onc
more,
The toss of Stuart's plume!
oh, life goes back ten years tonight,
And we are men once more;
And this old hill is Arlington,
And there the alien shore;
And over yonder on the heights
The hostile campfires quiver;
And sullenly 'twixt us and them
Flows by Potomac's river.
And these be going to the front,
With work to do ahead,
How fair they ride--God go with them
Alas! that day is dead
Der Stuart's head, in place of plume,
The long grass now doth wave;
Ten times we've seen the violeps bloom
On Stonewall Jaokson's grave.
And he who ne'er did yield to man
Hath yielded unto death;
The stainless sword ut Lexington
Hangs Idly in It's sheath.