The Montgomery advertiser., 1906-09-09

Aftef tnis the Bplrly or the South becomes more serious as the horrors of war press upon the country, and the voice of the bard takes a plaintive tonesa he sings the tragedy of "The Letter to the Dead" The Jacket of walks on his beat to and fro" By the way. it Is Interesting to note that the copy of this most pathetic of war lyrics. All Quiet Along the Potomac.' nied by an editorial notice to the ef- effect that 1t was found in the pocket of q volunteer who died in camp on the Potomac"
 But the spirit of the South, though saddened. was by no means broken, as witness this song of
 The Barefoofed Boys. By the sword of St. Michael, The old draeon through! By David. his sling.
 And the giant he slewi
 Let us write us rhyme As record. to tell
 How the South on time stormed the ramparts of hell
 With her barefooted boys, There's grandeur in fight sAnd terror the while Iut none like the light or that terrible smile
 The smile of the South, When the storm cloud unrolls The Tightening tf-t loosens The wrath in the souls Of her barefooted boysI
 The bitterness of war, as the work of -destruction progressed. bringing In US Lrain the ruin and desolation of itself in the songs of the period, and is voiced with a passionate resentment hard for this peaceful generation to !@arrSSersntand, !arS n, in the fierce war cry of space for only few sample stanzas :: Awake. and to horse. my brothers, And harki in the crackIing brush There are feet that tread this way. Who eomethf" A friend" "what
 tidingsTs
 "oh, God. sicken to tell For the earth seems earth no longer. Ana it's sights are sights of hell. They are turning the slave upon us. And with more than the fiend's
 worst art
 Have uncovered the fires of the sav- That slept in his unsaught heart. With halter and torch and Bible.
 dru,s mgHns 10 the sound of the They preach the gospel of murder
 And pray for Lust's kingdom to In Gods hand alone is vengeance.
 But he strikes with the hands of And his blight would wither our man. If we smote not the smiter again. By the graves where our fathers slum- By the shrines where our mothers By our homes and hopes and freedom,
 ~ee every man swear on his blade. That he will not sheathe nor stay 1t will I'll from point to hilt 1t glow
 In the blood sh of 3f the tAhmS6ty ieIoSy fos Justice In its stirring appeal to the passions Ind IYrio its t fierce cry for vengeance. this of ie snY Yai ianSys Iew equals insthewar poetry And now, as the beginning of the er ero ro qraws near, the voice of the sing sinks at last, into the sorrowfuI waii
 The Conquered Banner.
 Ihe copy or this immortal ode pre- served in our old scrap book IS pre- Faced raced. by this curious editorial note: me following poem was written by aa young lady. of Baltimore a short rounds pretty generally. While it does not evince any poetic faculty of 3 high order. 1t Is yet renlete with Ieeiing, and addresses itself with ear pathy." S' A'' Unfortunately. the name of the pa- per IS not given, but whoever the edi- have been as much at fault as his in- formation. ms III A specimen of this eleeiac poetry that possesses a peculiar intereas ion.eaeracy yoy Alabamians. is requiem on 'aThe Sinking of the Alabama" clipped from dneoa cne aAnnapolts Republican," and pre- in these words "The following stan gas or. the sinking of this famous reh- ei e,. cruiser, were handed to us for pub They were originally pubiisbad jn g''y, a SSoutnsrn sS newspaper. and secured by the above mentioned gentleman while confined in Libby Prison" For want given, which are sufficient to show the spirit or the poem:
 still her bright name
 Is in death. as in life, ever glorious: And sceptre all barren the conqueror
 must claim,
 Th1ough he boast the proud title,
 Victorious.
 R The spirit that shed OCT the waves
 gleaming clear
 Shall live, while a sail flutters over
 the breast
 Of thy far sounding pillows. Atlan- As long as one swift keel the strong Or poor Jack ioxes his song and Shall shine in tradition the valor of And the brave ship that bore him to
 glory.
 And speaking of the gallant Semmes, the old book contains, among Q mum eral letters of the Souths great ma val hero, given to the compiler by a member of his family One of these, which is of special interest by reason of his first war ship. the Sumter" I give in full:
 My Dear Son:-I enclose you a cou- pie of letters. The one from your sis ter being post-marked Cumberland" took the liberty of opening and read Ing. Your mother and sisters, Lee and Kate, and Ralph, are by this time m Cincinnati, l presume In writing to them you should be careful. now that we are at war with the United States, not to put any military news of any Kind In your letters, lest, through some or through a violation of 1 the mail. 1t might reach the enemy l am preparing my ship for sea with all dispatch. though some three weeks yet will probably elapse before my prepar- ations will be complete. We are look@ ing very anXiously to your movements before Fort Pickens, and may God bless you, my son, in anything that
 Your afr; father.
 R. Semmes. Lieutenant S. S. semmes.
 Thefe is also a characteristic scold-