SUMTER. [On the 12th of April, 1861, Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbor, South Carolina, garrisoned by United States troops, was bombarded by the Confederate forces, and, after resisting for thirty-four hours, capitulated. This was the first battle of the war.] CAME the morning of that day How we loved him, living, dying! For we knew that far away, And that Sumter's brave defender And we knew the April sun Island crag; Guns and mortars grimly frowning, Oh, the fury of the fight Yet no breath, from noon till night, We had almost ceased to wonder, Then our hearts more fiercely beat, All the tale; All the doubtful chances turning, Who had fired the earliest gun? Was there succor? What was done And once more our thoughts would wander Not too long the brave shall wait; Flag defied and compact riven! EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN, BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE. SHE has gone-she has left us in passion and pride Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side! She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, And turned on her brother the face of a foe! O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, We can never forget that our hearts have been one, Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name, From the fountain of blood with the finger of flame! You were always too ready to fire at a touch; But we said, "She is hasty-she does not mean much." We have scowled, when you uttered some turbulent threat; But Friendship still whispered, "Forgive and forget!" Has our love all died out? Have its altars grown cold? Has the curse come at last which the fathers foretold? Then Nature must teach us the strength of the chain That her petulant children would sever in vain. They may fight till the buzzards are gorged with their spoil, Till the harvest grows black as it rots in the soil, Till the wolves and the catamounts troop from their caves, And the shark tracks the pirate, the lord of the waves: In vain is the strife! When its fury is past, Their fortunes must flow in one channel at last, As the torrents that rush from the mountains of snow Roll mingled in peace through the valleys below. Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky: Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts the die! Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven with steel, The blue arch will brighten, the waters will heal! O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, There are battles with Fate that can never be won! Go, then, our rash sister! afar and aloof, grown sore, Remember the pathway that leads to our door! OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. MEN OF THE NORTH AND WEST. MEN of the North and West, Wake in your might, Prepare, as the rebels have done, For the fight! You cannot shrink from the test; Rise! Men of the North and West! They have torn down your banner of stars; They have stifled the freedom they hate, Do you love it or slavery best? Speak! Men of the North and West! They strike at the life of the State: They cry, "We are two!" And you? You must meet them, then, breast to breast; Not with words; they laugh them to scorn, But with swords in your hands, and death Strike home! leave to God all the rest; RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. MY MARYLAND. [This poem is probably the most famous, as it is the most stirring in its martial tone, of all that the war evoked. Its form is doubtless suggested by Mangan's “Karamanian Exile": "I see thee ever in my dreams, Karaman! Thy hundred hills, thy thousand streams, As when thy gold-bright morning gleams, So now thou loomest on my dreams, But the previous use of this form, which is remarkably effective for a battle-lyric, in no wise detracts from the |