Brave Forrest, like a lion springs On the prowling vandal, who comes With vengeful sting As a torrent he rushes along; And his warriors brave, Like old ocean's wave, Surge over the Hessian throng! Brave Forrest, like an eagle swoops With glittering sword in noon-day's blaze, Oh, twine his name With the laurel of fame, Each thread of the story, Like the comet's dash, Thro' the ages 'twill flash On Eternity's shore, It will live in a record sublime! MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA, July, 1861. THE DEVIL'S DELIGHT. The Devil's Delight. BY JOHN R. THOMPSON. 205 To breakfast one morning the Devil came down, A headache had darkened his brow with a frown, In a robe of red flame was Diavolo dressed, Blue blazes enveloped his throat and his chest, No masquerade devil of earth could begin, With his counterfeit horns and his mock tail, To look like this model Original Sin, As of lava and lightning and bitters and gin, But to give, in all conscience, the Devil his due, Then a smile, such as follows some capital joke The paper was brought, and Old Nick ran his eye Over crimes, there were plenty, of terrible dye, And the blatherskite leaders of Bennett. There were frauds in high places, official deceit; But the numberless horrors of every degree "Ho, varlet! fill up till the beaker runs o'er!" Cried the Deil, growing joyous and frisky; A white-hot ferruginous goblet he bore, And the liquor was vitriol 'straight,' which he swore Was less hurtful than tangle-foot whisky. "Fill up! let us drink," said the Father of Lies, "To the mortal whose claims are most weighty!" eyes, And a light diabolic shone out of his That made the thermometer instantly rise To fully five thousand and eighty. "I have knights of the garter and knights of the lance,. Who shall surely hereafter for sin burn; LIBRAR OF TH UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNI THE DEVIL'S DELIGHT. I have writers of history, ethics, romance, And a gay little poet in Swinburne : "Reformers, who go in for infinite smash; 207 "And besides all the hypocrites," chuckled the Deil, "Who serve me with Ave and Credo, I have tyrants that murder, commanders that steal, Dahomey, Mouravieff, Butler, McNeil, Thad. Stevens, Joe Holt, Escobedo : "But the man of all others the most to my mind, The dearest terrestrial creature, Is the blaspheming priest and the tyrant combined, "And so long as of Darkness I'm absolute Prince, Then the Fiend, with a laughter no language may tell, Drained his cup, and abasing his crown low, Cried "Hip, Hip, Hurrah!" and a boisterous yell Went round till the nethermost confines of Hell Re-echoed "Three cheers for old Brownlow!" The Brare at Home. THE maid who binds her warrior's sash, The wife who girds her husband's sword, Was poured upon the field of battle! The mother who conceals her grief, While to her heart her son she presses, Then breathes a few brave words and brief, Kissing the patriot-brow she blessesWith no one but her secret God To know the pain that weighs upon herSheds holy blood, as e'er the sod Received on Freedom's field of honor! |